Patriot Dames
by Autolycus, maynlinz@earthlink.net
A genetically altered woman battles twin terrorists.


This is a work of fiction. Any similarity to real persons is only a figment of
your imaginations. Let's face it, we all wish these babes were real! Anyway,
they're not, so go take a nice cold shower.

BABES IN SPYLAND VI:

PATRIOT DAMES

(c) 1998 Autolycus

Here's the deal: This is the story of a genetically altered female who is not
only a perfect physical specimen, but also has psychic abilities. She was
created by the US government to be the ultimate espionage agent, although her
creator/father, the late Dr. Smitrovich, didn't know that at the time. She was
seized by an ultra-secret anti-terrorist government agency, the Aegis Group,
and (ultimately, but against her will) trained in martial arts and other forms
of combat, although she refuses to kill anybody, which drives the head of the
AG, General Armitage Winsome, absolutely nuts. By the way, her name is Jessica
Chance and this is her encounter with twin Irish terrorists named Kyla and
Kyna McMasters.

She pressed the muzzle of the Remington revolver to the brunette's temple,
grinding it hard enough to cause some discomfort, and asked in a soft, but
menacing voice, "How is the assassination going to take place, Kyna? Tell me
or I swear to the Goddess I will blow your brains all over the inside of this
car."

"Ya dinna understand, do ya, Jessica?" the dark haired woman replied. "Me life
is worthless compared to the success o' the mission. And besides, we both know
yer bluffing."

"Once, that would have been true. In fact, there was a time when I would have
refused to even pick up a gun, let alone use it to kill someone," Jessi
explained, nodding her head and keeping the gun at the other woman's temple.
"But I don't have the luxury of those simplistic attitudes anymore. You and
your sister saw to that. So, ironically, it is you and Kyla who are to blame
for your death if you don't tell me what I want to know. Now, Kyna!" She
cracked the brunette across the jaw with the butt of the gun to emphasize her
deadly seriousness.

The dark haired woman put her hand to her mouth. "Ours is a righteous cause,
Jessi, and I willna betray it," she stated, staring straight ahead, ignoring
the blood trickling out the side of her mouth.

"I'm not questioning the righteousness of your cause, Kyna. It's the methods
you and your sister have chosen to use to fight for it that cause us to
differ," Jessi stated, the frustration apparent in her voice. "Repaying
injustices with further injustices can only lead to still more injustices.
Don't you see that?" She saw the brunette's determination, written plainly on
her face in the form of the bruises and cuts from their earlier battle, and
knew the answer to that question. "No, I don't suppose you do, or we wouldn't
be in this situation, would we?"

Jessica thought back to that final day in Paris with Kendra and Lupe and how
everything had changed with a phone call from British Intelligence.

Kendra's face turned a disturbing shade of white as she listened to the voice
on the other end of the phone and she stopped winding her blonde hair around
her fingers. When she finally hung up the receiver, after mumbling a
half-heard good-bye, her blue eyes were filled with tears and she dropped onto
the bed and held her head in her hands.

Lupe, a 6' Spanish werewolf brunette with a powerful build, and Jessica, a 5'
10" redheaded American with the lithe form of a dancer, exchanged concerned
glances and then Jessica got up and went over and sat next to Kendra, wrapping
her arms around her shoulders and gently stroking her blonde hair.

"What is it, Kendra?" she asked quietly. "What's wrong?"

It took her a moment to respond, and when she finally did, her speech was
halting, due to the sobbing. "They've lost contact with Trevor, Angel!" she
cried, using her nickname for the American. "He hasn't been heard from for
over a week and HQ thinks he may-" But at this point the sobbing increased and
she couldn't finish her sentence, couldn't bare to say aloud what she feared
the most: That her brother was dead.

"A week isn't that long, Kendra," Jessi whispered. "When I was at Dallas'
ranch I was out of contact with the Aegis Group for over five months."

But the blonde shook her head. "No. You don't understand. According to the
information gathered, HQ believes the assassination attempt that Trevor was
sent in specifically to stop is going to happen within the next fortnight, and
that Trevor reported in his last communication that he would alert them as to
both the intended target and method within 48 hours," she explained.

"Come on, Kendra, we both know that out in the field things have a rather
nasty habit of becoming anything but predictable," the redhead reminded her,
smiling reassuringly. "Perhaps he hasn't had the opportunity to report in, or
he hasn't got anything worth reporting yet. If what I've read about the New
Erin Army is accurate, their leaders are too smart to make the intended target
widely known. Maybe your brother is just out of the loop?"

Kendra smiled at that. "Well, I suppose I'll be finding out soon enough," she
sighed, sitting up straight and placing both hands on her knees. "I've been
ordered to track down Trevor and find out what's going on, and put a stop to
it."

"They can't be serious, Kendra!" Lupe said from her position in a chair on the
other side of the room. "You're still in no condition to undertake such a
mission."

Jessi nodded in agreement. "You're still weak from Ophelia's attempt to make
you a vampire," she reminded her. "You need more rest before you go back out
on a mission."

"I'm fine," she assured the two women. "I've had a week to get my strength
back and I feel wonderful, fit as a fiddle, good as new."

"And the nightmares?" Jessica asked. "Ever since your ordeal with Ophelia
you've had terrible nightmares and hardly gotten the sleep you should have."

"I said I was fine," the blonde said, with a bit of an edge to her voice.
"Now, I'm going to London, and you two are off to America. You know you've got
less than 3 weeks to find a cure for Lupe, Angel."

"Do not worry about Lupe," the brunette chimed in. "I have lived with
lycanthropy for over a hundred years. A few more weeks will not matter."

"Besides, if the assassination is to take place within the next fortnight,
I'll still have a good week to break down the genetic code for the lycanthrope
virus and discover an antidote," Jessi said brightly. "Piece of cake."

Kendra laughed. "Be that as it may, it's a moot point since British
Intelligence has ordered me to locate Trevor, and to stop the assassination,"
she stated.

"Fine. But we're going with you," Jessi replied, glancing over at the
brunette. Lupe nodded. The three of them had become quite good friends in the
past week and the brunette was eager to make up for her past misdeeds.

"I can handle this on my own," Kendra sighed, but she gave Jessi one of those
looks which told the redhead she was secretly grateful.

"No doubt you can, but we're coming with you all the same," the American
grinned, hugging Kendra tightly. "Just you try and stop us."

The blonde looked over at Lupe and the Spaniard likewise grinned and nodded
her head. "You are stuck with us, senorita," she smiled. "Make the most of
it."

"Oh, I intend to," Kendra laughed. "I intend to."

* * * * *

Trevor winced as the teeth of the pliers pinched tightly against his right
nipple. He was a handsome man, roughly 6' tall, with coal black hair and steel
gray eyes. At the moment he was in a warehouse in the wharf district of
London, seated in a chair, hands bound securely behind his back, naked. There
were four other people in the small room with him: Two large men named Mick
and Sean, and two women, identical twins, except that one had eyes of blue and
one had eyes of green, both beautiful brunettes. The dark haired woman holding
the tool flashed her emerald eyes at him and grinned toothily.

"Now, love, let's try it from the top once more, shall we? Who sent ye here?"
she asked, tightening the grip on his nipple slightly.

But Trevor gritted his teeth and a slight groan was his only response.

The woman twisted the pliers savagely. "Not a wise choice, dear," she sneered.
"I really don't want to have to use these things on another part of your
anatomy, if ye know what I mean." She glanced down meaningfully.

"Do your worst, Kyla," he spat. "You'll get nothing out of me, but my blood."

"You know, I think I believe ye," she sighed, removing the pliers. "Pity." She
gestured to the two large men standing behind his chair and then walked away
as they began to beat Trevor.

After watching for a few minutes, her sister joined her. "Why bother beating
him, Kyla? Ya know he won't say anything, and ya know bloody well who sent
him: The feckin' Brits," she snarled.

"It gives Mick and Sean something to do, and he deserves it, instead of a
quick, painless bullet to the brain," she replied.

"But it doesn't help us find out if he was able to pass on any details of the
plan to his superiors?" her sister pointed out.

"I don't think he did, else we wouldn't be standing here having this
conversation," Kyla returned. "Besides, the beauty of this plan is that even
if they do know what Trevor knows, it can't help them prevent it. If anything,
it will make it all the easier when they increase security around the puppet
king."

"So, there's no real reson to kill Trevor yet, and, in fact, he might very
well come in handy later on," Kyna added. Her sister nodded in reluctant
agreement.

"Oh, boys," they both called out together. "On second thought, don't kill him
just yet."

"Yer lucky, Brit," scowled Mick, driving one last fist into Trevor's bruised
ribs.

"We'll finish this another time," added Sean, snapping the bound man's head
around with a vicious right hook. "Count on it."

Trevor coughed, spitting up blood and pretty sure from the agony he was
experiencing that he was bleeding internally, and then set to work on the
ropes which bound him to the chair as soon as he was alone.

* * * * *

As the plane they were on descended toward Heathrow airport, Jessica suddenly
felt dizzy and leaned on to Kendra for support.

"What's wrong, Angel?" asked the blonde. She reached over and stroked the
redhead's pale cheek.

"I'm not sure, Kendra. It almost feels like that damn frequency which blocks
my psychic abilities," she replied, shaking her head.

"Oh, my. That's exactly what it is!" the blonde exclaimed.

"You're not going to tell me that the whole city is being bombarded with that
signal, are you?" she inquired.

Kendra nodded sheepishly. "After our scientists discovered the frequency while
testing Velika, the cabinet insisted on broadcasting it constantly across the
capital, to prevent any foreign personnel from learning classified information
via mind reading," she explained. "All government employees are also required
to wear individual transmitters at all times."

"Does the word 'paranoia' ring any bells?" Jessi sighed.

"My government was pretty shocked by the confirmation of the existence of
people with psychically enhanced powers, and their reaction may seem
overboard, but I can't say it's wholly unwarranted," the blonde stated.

"You don't think I'm a threat to your national security, do you, Keni?" the
redhead asked softly. "That I'm some kind of freak, like Frankenstein's
monster?"

"Hardly," Kendra laughed, leaning over and kissing her tenderly. "But, I am
not my government and am hardly in a position to question its actions when
matters of national security are involved. And, we both know that other powers
are still working on projects similar to Angel, so I don't think this
frequency is being broadcast at you personally, dear."

The redhead chuckled and nodded as the plane continued its descent.

When they finished the disembarking procedure, they were told of a message
waiting for Kendra, informing her that Trevor was in hospital, in critical
condition.

* * * * *

Trevor opened his steely eyes and smiled weakly. "For me?" he whispered,
indicating Lupe.

Kendra smiled, wiped away the tears streaming down her cheeks, and brushed the
hair from his forehead. "Only when you're better," she said softly.

"I'm fine," he snarled, pulling gently at the restraints on his wrists. "I'm
not a criminal. They've no right to tie me down."

"It's for your own good, silly. And if you hadn't tried to leave the operating
room, during your surgery, and then later attempted to scale down the wall of
the building using ripped up sheets, this wouldn't have been necessary," she
scolded.

"But, they're going to kill the King!" he hissed desperately.

"I know, Trev, I read your report and I'm going to stop them. Don't worry,"
she promised, bending down and pressing her lips to his clammy forehead. "You
just get better, or I won't even introduce you to Lupe, here."

"We've met," Trevor and Lupe said together.

Kendra pushed her wire-frame glasses up with her index finger and looked first
at her brother, then at the Spaniard, and finally at Jessica, who just
shrugged.

"At the Kinky Cat," Trevor added, reminding her that it was his suggestion
that she and Jessica check it out when they were vacationing in Paris.

"Of course," Kendra nodded, glancing suspiciously at Lupe.

"The doctors said that you ruptured your appendix and that you're going to
require several weeks of rest," Jessica said quickly, pushing between the
blonde and the brunette. "Hello, Trevor."

"Hello, Jessica," he smiled. "It's good to see you again, and I'm glad to hear
that you took such good care of my sister." The redhead stared at him blankly.
"I read the letters she wrote me from Paris when I first woke up here." He
gestured with his head toward a couple of envelopes which lay on the bed
stand.

"Well, it was the least I could do after she saved my life, at your request, I
understand," Jessi grinned.

"I just told her to keep an eye on you, saving your life was all her idea," he
chuckled, and then suddenly grimaced in pain.

"That's enough for now," said a nurse who had been standing unobtrusively in
the doorway the whole time. "Commander Willowgate needs rest at the moment.
You can visit tomorrow, if he's feeling up to it." She gently, but
determinedly, ushered them out of the room and then closed the door behind
them.

Kendra cried softly into Jessi's shoulder as the three women made their way
out of the building.

* * * * *

General Winsome actually sounded angry. "Permission denied, Ms. Chance. Your
vacation officially ended yesterday and I expected you to report to my office
this morning," he said evenly. "You are an employee of the United States
government, Ms. Chance, and, despite your admittedly unusual duties, you are
expected to behave like one, and not some free lance vigilante, out to save
the world."

"But, sir, I have promised Lieutenant Willowgate that I would stay and help,"
Jessica replied.

"You had no right to make any such promise, and it is your own
short-sightedness which forces you to break your word," he stated. "You will
be on the first available flight to Washington, Ms. Chance. Is that
understood?"

"Yes, General," she replied sullenly.

"Very good. I'll see you in the morning, then. Have a good flight, Ms.
Chance," he added with a slight chuckle as he hung up the phone.

Jessica stared with open contempt at the phone in her hand and then slammed it
down hard on the cradle.

"Hey! Careful with my stuff, Angel!" laughed Kendra, coming out of the
kitchen. "I'm just a poor working girl, like you, remember?"

"I've just been reminded of that fact by my superior," Jessi sighed, falling
easily into a large chair.

The blonde came over and sat on her lap. "Sounds like bad news," she said,
softly caressing the cheeks of the redhead.

"I have to go back to Washington tonight," Jessica scowled.

"And are you upset because you were looking forward to spending more time with
me, or because you don't think I can handle stopping the assassination on my
own?" Kendra inquired not-quite-seriously.

"Of course you can handle it, Keni. I was just looking forward to working with
you, and playing with you," she added, sliding her hands beneath the blonde's
posterior and pinching it affectionately.

"Well, it looks like we'll have to do both some other time. Right now, you and
Lupe need to go to the airport and I need to track down these twin
troublemakers and stop them from killing His Majesty," she sighed, wrapping
her arms around Jessica and kissing her deeply.

* * * * *

Two people watched from the dark sedan parked across the street as Kendra,
Jessica, and Lupe left the blonde's flat and climbed into her red mini,
following them discreetly when they drove off.

One of the passengers whispered into a cellular phone, "All three women who
were at hospital visiting Willowgate are leaving. We are continuing to follow
them. Yes, we have it. A field test might prove most amusing, indeed, sister.
Excellent idea."

Kyla closed the phone and replaced it in her purse. "Catch up to them once
they get on a throughfare, Myrna," she told the copper-haired woman driving
the car. She then twisted around and removed a small hand-held rocket launcher
from beneath the back seat, along with a metal box. Sitting forward once more,
she opened the box and carefully removed a cannister marked with the
international symbol for toxic material.

Myrna grinned and gradually accelerated until the sedan was directly behind
the red mini.

* * * * *

"Lupe, have you ever been to the US before?" Kendra asked in an attempt to
spark some conversation and dispel the uncomfortable silence which permeated
the car.

Lupe, who was gazing sleepily out the side window of the back seat driver's
side, shook her head. "Never, seniorita. I have been to Africa, the Middle
East, and as far away as India, but never ventured across the Pacific," she
replied. "I'm looking forward to it very much. I have heard a lot about the
many opportunities available and hope to make a lot of money."

"Really?" laughed Jessica, turning around to look at the brunette. "And just
how do-" She stopped when she spied the muzzle of the rocket launcher
protruding from the window of the dark sedan which had pulled up next to them.
"Kendra! Hit the brakes! Now!!!" She braced herself as the car screeched to a
halt, watching helplessly as the projectile whooshed across its hood and
struck a bus in the lane of oncoming traffic next to theirs.

The shell went straight through the side of the bus and then exploded, filling
the vehicle with a thick reddish smoke.

Almost immediately, the bus turned drastically into oncoming traffic, lazily
rolling over onto its side as it drove through the barrier separating the two
flows of traffic and then skidding into several other cars before coming to a
halt in the middle of the two lanes.

Meanwhile, when Kendra had braked suddenly, the car behind hers had slammed
into her rear bumper, propelling the mini forward and into the side of the
dark sedan, mangling the driver's side back door and forcing it to also come
to a stop.

Jessica looked up just in time to see a dark-haired woman carrying a large
suitcase leap from the car and race across oncoming traffic toward a roadside
neighborhood. "I'm going after her!" she stated, throwing open her door and
following the brunette.

Myrna, however, had elected to try to and separate the two cars and she was
gunning her sedan's motor, causing the tires to scream in protest as they
tried vainly to move the trapped vehicle.

"Lupe, take care of that maniac in the sedan, but make sure she's alive. We
need to get some answers!" Kendra ordered, accelerating and grinding the mini
into the other car, further preventing the sedan from escaping. "As soon as
you've got her out of the car I'm going to check on that bus!"

Lupe grinned wolfishly and dove out of the open passenger's door, rolling as
she hit the pavement, but she was on her feet in seconds and making for the
driver's side of the sedan.

Myrna, finally realizing that freeing the two cars was hopeless, threw open
her door and made a mad dash for the field on the other side of the road,
causing Lupe to reverse her direction and scramble over the top of the sedan
to catch up to the redhead.

Kendra switched her car off and got out and walked back to the car which had
rear-ended hers. The man within lay slumped over the air bag which had
exploded from the steering wheel, but when Kendra pressed her fingers to his
throat she was relieved to find that his pulse was strong and steady. After
examining his head and finding nothing more than a bruise, she ran back to
where the bus lay on its side, effectively blocking traffic heading toward the
airport, reddish smoke billowing from its shattered windows. She called out to
the people inside, but received no answer, other than the tires of the bus as
they continued to spin wildly, as if going hundreds of kilometers per hour.
Avoiding the gravel being spit out by the rotating tires, she worked her way
around to the front of the vehicle and looked through the large windows on its
face.

Through the red smoke she could barely make out a large number of bodies, none
of them moving.

Confused, she banged on the glass, but the forms within remained motionless.

Concerned that they might be suffocating from the smoke, she stood back,
pivoted on on the ball of her left foot and smashed her right heel against the
glass window of the driver's side, causing it to explode inward in a shower of
deadly shards, and releasing a cloud of red smoke into her startled face.

Before she could even turn away, she collapsed with a slight gurgle at the
foot of the overturned bus.

* * * * *

Jessica narrowly avoided several oncoming cars as she pursued the brunette
fleeing with the suitcase. Once clear of the traffic she caught sight of her
quarry jumping down from the top of the chain link fence which separated the
throughfare from the houses and community streets and raced after her. The
redhead easily scaled the fence and was actually gaining on the brunette as
they charged down the road when a car suddenly rounded the corner and slammed
on its brakes when it saw the two women running down the center of the street.

A middle-aged man got out of the driver's side and called out, "What the devil
do you birds think you're doing?"

Kyla pulled a gun from her jacket and aimed it at the man. "Back away from the
car!" she ordered, running up to him.

"My wife and kids are in there!" he shouted, nevertheless backing away.

"Everybody out of the car! Now!!" the brunette demanded, circling around the
man and holding the gun to his temple. "And, ye, whoever ye be, stop right
there or this Brit gets his feckin' brains all over the road!"

Jessica skidded to a halt. "Don't do anything stupid," she called out. "I'm
stopping."

Kyla glanced over and saw that the wife and two kids had exited the car.
"Good. Now, I don't know who the feck ye be, but I don't really care either.
And, seeing as how ye'll be dead in a second, it doesn't much matter, does
it?" she laughed, aiming the gun at Jessica.

She fired, but, thanks to Jessi's lightning reflexes, the bullet only grazed
the redhead's shoulder.

Kyla didn't bother firing off another shot but instead shoved the man forward
and into the redhead as she scrambled into the car and punched the gas,
cranking the steering wheel savagely until the car was barreling toward
Jessica and the man.

Jessica barely managed to propel the man away from danger and then leapt up
and over the car at the last minute.

The brunette wasn't satisfied with just escaping, however, and wrenched the
steering wheel around for another try. With her attention completely on the
redhead, she didn't even see the man's wife and two children until it was too
late.

Their terrified screams echoing in her ears, Kyla stepped on the gas pedal and
the car shot back up the street, leaving three broken and bloody bodies
behind.

Jessi dove out of the way and this time the car continued on its way.

The man bellowed his rage and sorrow and fell to his knees, cradling the
bodies of his wife and children, sobbing uncontrollably.

Jessica knelt beside him and reached out and felt for pulses on the wrists of
his family. "They're alive," she whispered.

Just then, a car drove up and the driver, an elderly man, rolled down his
window and asked if he could help.

"Please, take this man and his family to the nearest hospital," Jessica
answered. She then quickly explained what had happened as the two of them
carefully loaded the man and his family into his car.

"I'll take good care of them, Jessica," he promised, getting back into his
car.

"Thank you, Rupert. And, if there are any problems, contact the American
Consulate and tell them I take complete responsibility," she added, leaning in
and kissing his grizzled cheek.

As the car sped off, Jessica was suddenly aware of ambulance sirens coming
from the throughfare and, cursing the circumstances which had allowed the
terrorist to escape, headed back toward the downed bus.

* * * * *

When Lupe reached the side of the road, she paused to remove her shoes, skirt,
and blouse, leaving her clad in only a brassiere and panties. She then raced
down the slight incline and easily cleared the 6' chain link fence with a
graceful leap. She landed lightly and then grinned toothily as she saw the
redhead running frantically across the field.

With a small howl of joy, she ran after her.

Myrna, wearing ragged jeans, a Dublin University sweatshirt, and black
construction boots, startled by the howl, turned and was alarmed to see a
half-naked woman chasing her. She desperately pulled a gun from her waistband
and fired back as she continued to run.

Lupe easily dodged the bullets and quickly gained ground, throwing herself
forward and catching the terrorist around the ankles, toppling her face-first
onto the grass.

Lupe then stood up and kicked the gun from her hand. "We can do this the easy
way, senorita, or the hard way," she informed the redhead as Myrna climbed to
her feet.

In answer, the terrorist pulled a switchblade from her boot and flicked it
open. "Oh, I am gonna enjoy slicing you open, you cow," she hissed, tossing
the knife from hand to hand.

"Bad choice," Lupe sad, shaking her head.

"For you, bitch!" agreed Myrna, lunging at the Spaniard's belly.

"No, senorita, for you," Lupe corrected, reaching out, grabbing the wrist and
nearly snapping it as she twisted it, forcing Myrna to drop the knife. The
brunette then reached down and, taking hold of the bottom of the shirt, lifted
the sweatshirt up and over Myrna's head, exposing her pendulous, flat
banana-shaped breasts. Lupe then held the shirt and both of the redhead's
wrists with her left hand while the right one buried itself in Myrna's tummy
several times in rapid succession. When the terrorist's legs buckled and the
only sound coming from the makeshift sack around her head was feeble gasping,
Lupe let go and Myrna fell to the ground, clawing at the sweatshirt to get it
off her.

"You will come with me now, si? And not give me trou--Ooommph!" Lupe suddenly
wheezed when Myrna spun around and drove both feet into the taller woman's
middle.

The redhead leaped to her feet and, grabbing a handful of Lupe's wild hair,
brought her knee up and into the brunette's face. She then looped her arm
around Lupe's neck and, dropping to one knee, flipped the brunette over her
shoulder and onto the ground. Myrna then jumped up and landed with both feet
on Lupe's stomach, bending the large frame of the Spaniard around her legs.
After a quick "Flashdance-like" stomping, she jumped off and turned, pleased
to see Lupe roll on to her side in agony.

"You were saying, sweetie?" she laughed, planting the toe of her boot in
Lupe's side, flipping her completely over onto her back once more. Myrna then
walked around and, grabbing Lupe's ankles, bent her legs backward, spreading
them at the same time. She then dropped down, viciously driving the point of
her knee into the brunette's crotch.

Lupe's entire body quivered in agony as the redhead stood and then repeated
the painful move. Myrna leaned forward, still holding the Spaniard's ankles,
until her face was inches from Lupe's and her knee was pressed tightly against
the brunette's sex. "Now then, this is the part where you beg for mercy, but I
kill you anyway," she whispered, maneuvering herself so that the taller
woman's head was sandwiched by her own calves, leaving Myrna sitting on the
back of Lupe's knees, and the brunette's ass sticking straight up.

But the redhead had forgotten Lupe's arms, and the Spaniard suddenly looped
the fingers of both hands above her head and then brought both fists over and
thrust them deep into Myrna's gut. Shocked and winded, the terrorist released
her hold on Lupe's ankles and the brunette's legs shot backward, catching the
redhead on both shoulders and pinning her to her back. Lupe sat up and once
more both fists snapped down and into Myrna's stomach. She then dropped down,
ramming her elbow into the girl's crotch. "How do you like it, senorita?" she
snarled, slamming her other elbow into the same location. Myrna tried to crush
Lupe between her thighs, but the brunette returned to punishing the redhead's
middle and the pain from that prevented her from applying enough pressure to
be more than a nuisance to the Spaniard.

Lupe sat up on her knees and removed her brassiere. Then, she slid up Myrna's
prone body until her large breasts were resting on Myrna's own. The Spaniard
looked down into the light blue eyes of the woman beneath her and grinned
wolfishly when she saw the fear in them. "You are right to be afraid,
muchacha," she hissed, locking her ankles around those of the terrorist and
spreading her legs painfully wide open. She then reached up and grabbed both
of Myrna's wrists with her right hand and lowered her breasts onto the
redhead's face, completely covering her nose and mouth.

She maintained that position until she felt the body beneath her struggling
frantically for air. Then, she rolled over onto her right side, just enough to
expose the tear-streaked face and allow the woman to gulp in a mouthful of
air.

"I give up," Myrna sobbed, choking on the words.

"Not just yet, senorita," Lupe smiled, gut-punching the woman with her left
hand and then quickly rolling back over and suffocating her with her breasts
once more. "That was for shooting at me."

Again, Lupe waited until the little air remaining in the woman's lungs had
been used before rolling over and allowing her to breathe.

"N-no more, please!" Myrna cried, shaking her head frantically.

But Lupe bent down and savagely bit the redhead's right breast, her unusually
long, sharp teeth sinking deeply into the tender flesh. "That," she smiled,
revealing the blood on her lips, "was for pulling a knife on me." Before Myrna
could say anything, Lupe's fist slammed once more into her belly.

She then rolled back over and continued to hold her breasts over the
terrorist's face, using her left hand to press them tightly in place, causing
the redhead to run out of air much more quickly.

This time, when Lupe finally rolled over, Myrna could only cry softly and
feebly shake her head in surrender.

But, Lupe was not quite finished with her. She sat up, flipped around, sitting
her pantied ass directly on the terrorist's face, and then literally ripped
the ragged jeans and underpants from her victim. Once the thatch of red pubic
hair was exposed, she reached down and dug her claw-like nails into Myrna's
pussy, tearing into the sensitive flesh painfully. "And this is for what you
did to my love-nest!" she cried.

Myrna's legs kicked pathetically a couple of times, but then the excruciating
pain of her ordeal took its toll and she passed out.

Lupe released the savaged organ and sat up, flipped around and planted her ass
on Myrna's breasts, and then looked down at her sleeping prisoner, noticing
how lovely she was for the first time. She gently caressed the unconscious
woman's cheeks, noting how soft they were, and suddenly realized that she was
little more than a girl, 17 or 18 at most.

Then, she heard sirens approaching from the throughfare and suddenly
remembered the bus and its passengers.

Lupe reached around and grabbed the ragged jeans and quickly tore them into
long strips which she used to bind Myrna's wrists and ankles. For good
measure, she stuffed the torn panties into the redhead's mouth and then tied a
strip of the jeans around her head to keep her quiet.

With a sigh of regret, she stood up and slung the naked body of the
unconscious terrorist over her shoulder and headed back toward the accident.

* * * * *

By the time Jessica arrived back at the bus, Kendra was being loaded onto an
ambulance. One of the paramedics informed her that she had apparently inhaled
some sort of deadly gas, as all of the passengers on the bus were dead, but
that Kendra was still alive. She was in bad shape, barely breathing, feverish,
and in a coma-like state, but she was alive. He gave her the name of the
hospital she was being taken to and then climbed in the vehicle and it roared
off, just as a toxic control unit screeched to a halt and several figures in
full bodysuits emerged and headed toward the bus.

Frantic, and furious, Jessi looked around and spotted Lupe by the side of the
road, putting her clothes back on. She also spotted the naked body of the
terrorist next to her.

Cursing to herself, Jessica jumped into Kendra's car and slammed it into
reverse, gunning the engine and laying down rubber until the squealing tires
finally tore the mini free of the sedan. She drove over to where Lupe was just
picking up Myrna again, after having finished dressing, and called out
angrily, "Toss that garbage in the back seat and climb in, Lupe! We've got to
get away from that damn broadcast so that I can find out from your friend
there just what the Hell is going on!"

Lupe laid Myrna in the back seat and then jumped into the front seat, barely
getting in before the mini was screaming down the road, headed away from the
city.

When Jessica could no longer feel the effects of the disruptive frequency, she
pulled into the first roadside inn and rented a room far away from the office.
"Bring her inside, Lupe," she said, indicating the redheaded terrorist who was
still unconscious. "I'm going to take a shower and then I'm going to get
inside her mind and find out everything she knows about the assassination."

Lupe nodded and, as Jessica opened the door to their room, she once more gazed
at the sleeping terrorist and hoped that Jessica would not hurt her. At least,
no more than was necessary.

She then got out and picked her up, admiring the hard curves of her muscles,
and carried her into the room and laid her on the bed. Then, unable to help
herself, she untied the gag and removed the torn panties from Myrna's mouth
and then stretched out on the bed next to her, lazily caressing her body with
her long nails.

When the redhead's eyes snapped open in alarm and she opened her mouth to
protest, Lupe quickly placed her own mouth over it and forced her tongue deep
inside Myrna's. At the same time, one hand closed gently around the redhead's
left breast while the other affectionately rubbed her posterior.

After a couple of seconds, Myrna ceased struggling and thrust her own tongue
into Lupe's mouth, playfully stroking the other woman's tongue.

When at last Lupe pulled away, she smiled down at Myrna and then whispered,
"My friend Jessica is going to ask you some questions about what you've been
involved in, muchacha."

"Myrna," the redhead said quietly. "Me name is Myrna."

"And I am Lupe, Myrna," smiled the brunette, kissing her gently on her
quivering lips. "Now, take Lupe's advice and tell my friend the truth. She
will know when you are lying."

"I'll tell her all I know, but, I've got to tell you right now that it isn't
much. Kyla and Kyna are running this operation and they don't tell any of us
anything we don't need to know," Myrna explained.

"So," said Jessica, emerging from the bathroom, with a towel around her waist
and another wound around her head, "they are as smart as I'd heard. What else
do you know, Myrna? Like, what was that stuff your partner shot at us?"

Myrna, startled by the sudden appearance of the American, paused. But then she
looked up into Lupe's eyes and saw the concern in them and said, "That was
Kyla McMasters, she and her sister Kyna are the ones in charge of this plan."
Jessica cursed herself once more for allowing the dark haired woman to escape.
"And that stuff was an experimental toxic compound which they intend to use to
kill the King."

"When?" asked Jessi suddenly.

"I don't know. The twins are very careful not to let anyone know the exact
time and place of the assassination, in case we're captured," Myrna added with
a sigh.

Jessica walked over and sat next to Myrna, on the opposite side of the bed as
Lupe. She stared down at the frightened young woman for a moment, noting the
signs of her recent battle with Lupe, and sadly shook her head. "How old are
you, Myrna?" she asked.

"I have lived under the Brit's tyranny for 17 years," she replied.

"17? And how many people have you killed?" Jessi pressed.

"None. Yet. But, to free Erin once and for all from the feckin' Brits, I am
prepared to shed blood, including me own," she stated.

Jessi looked deeply into her eyes. "Untie her, Lupe," she said softly,
standing up and briskly rubbing the towel on her head through her hair.
"You're wrong, Myrna, you have killed. Oh, I know Kyla fired the capsule and
that we were the intended targets, but you are technically an accessory to the
murder of all 29 people on that bus."

"Just 29 less feckin' Brits in the world," she sneered, rubbing her wrists as
soon as they were loose. "And good riddance, I say."

"No, Myrna. 1 Brit and 28 Irish. That bus was carrying 28 Catholic priests
from Ireland who were here for a conference with their English brothers,"
Jessica said, glancing over her shoulder and sighing sadly as she saw the
young woman's eyes suddenly fill with tears. She returned to the bathroom,
leaving Myrna clinging to Lupe's strong shoulders and crying like the child
she was.

* * * * *

Jessica and Lupe exited the elevator and walked down the hallway of the
hospital, not even slowing down when they saw two armed guards standing
outside the room they had been told Kendra was in. "Remember, Lupe, let me do
all the talking. And I won't mention anything about Myrna," she promised.

"Thanks, Jessi," smiled the Spaniard, squeezing her shoulder appreciatively.

"Oh, don't thank me. I doubt that Myrna will punish herself any less than the
authorities would have. Probably more," she added, wondering if the redhead
would really wait for them at the hotel as she promised, but realizing that
wherever she went, she could never escape her own guilt, which made it easier
for Jessi to justify not turning her over to the British to stand trial for
her actions.

"We've all done things we're not proud of. The trick is to learn from them and
become a better person for the mistake," Lupe said quietly.

Jessica nodded and then stopped in front of Kendra's room and carefully
removed her pocket book and showed her Aegis Group ID card. "I'm a witness to
the terrorist act which caused this," she stated. "And, as soon as I've seen
my friend, I'll be happy to answer any of your questions."

"We'll have to contact the proper authorities, Miss, before we can let you in
there. Orders," added the officer, noting the distress on the redhead's face.

"I know that Lieutenant Willowgate is a member of British Intelligence. I
suggest you call her superiors and get someone from her branch down here,"
Jessica said. "In the meantime, I'm going in to see my friend."

The two men looked at each other for a moment and then shrugged and opened the
door for Jessi. As the redhead entered, they looked at Lupe questioningly, but
the brunette shook her head and took a seat across the hall.

Kendra lay in a large bed, making her look very small and fragile, with an
oxygen mask over her mouth and several wires running from beneath the sheets
and into a bank of machines which pinged and beeped in a mechanized chorus,
like hopelessly lost crickets from the English countryside.

Her face was even more pale than normal and it had a definite, unhealthy
luster to it, as if someone had dusted her with gray paint.

Jessica approached and gently took one of Kendra's hands in both of her own,
trying to summon the healing powers within her, despite the inhibiting
frequency, but she couldn't do it. Cursing the paranoia of the British
government, she knelt beside the bed and softly cried into Kendra's side.

* * * * *

"Miss Chance?"

Jessica raised her head and wiped her eyes and looked behind her. A
middle-aged man was standing in the doorway, concern readily visible in his
brown eyes. He was slightly overweight, with thick hair that was more gray
than anything else. He had a kind, but stern, face that was ringed with
melancholy, especially around his pursed lips. He was wearing a conservative
blue suit and a tie with red, white, and green stripes.

"Yes?" replied Jessi, standing and facing the stranger.

"I am Admiral Percival Farthingdale, Lieutenant Willowgate's commanding
officer," he said, extending his hand. "I believe we have some things to
discuss."

"That's putting it a bit mildly, Admiral," smiled Jessica, taking his hand.

* * * * *

General Armitage Winsome yanked the phone impatiently from its cradle and
barked into it, "You were supposed to be here six and a half hours ago, Ms.
Chance! Where the devil--Eh? Who the blue blazes is--She what?!"

"Miss Chance is a material witness to a terrorist action which resulted in the
deaths of 29 people, General Winsome," explained the Admiral patiently. "As
such, she is required to remain here until we have learned all we can from her
about the identity of the terrorist, whom she had close enough contact with to
be able to provide us with an accurate description."

"Now, see here, Admiral whoever-you-are! Miss Chance is not only a citizen of
the United States, but a member of a highly confidential government agency--"
began Winsome.

"Yes, I know. The Aegis Group. Nice ID cards, by the way. Love the little
hologram of of the shield. We are not absolutely clueless when it comes to our
American counterparts, General," sighed Farthingdale. "Miss Chance is being
officially detained by order of His Majesty's Government, and with her
complete cooperation, I might add."

Biting back his rage, the General cleared his throat and asked, in his least
threatening voice, "May I please speak with Ms. Chance?"

"Sorry, but Miss Chance is unavailable at the moment. I'll have her call you
when she has the time. Goodbye, General Winsome," Farthingdale said quickly
and then the line went dead.

The General's face began to twitch violently and then he ripped the base of
the phone free from its wire and hurled it across the room as he roared out in
frustration.

* * * * *

"That ought to keep the good General off your back for a while," smiled
Admiral Farthingdale as he hung up the phone.

"Thank you, sir," grinned Jessica. "Have you learned anything about the
McMasters' twins yet?"

"We checked out the warehouse address that Commander Willowgate gave us when
he regained consciousness, but there was no indication that anyone had used it
in months. It was leased to a company called Daytech, but the representative
we spoke to informed us that they had stopped using it over a year ago," he
explained, clearly annoyed by the lack of any useful information. "As for the
McMasters themselves, officially, they aren't in the country, at least, not
according to our records. So, I'm afraid I've nothing to report on that
score."

"Have you been able to figure out what they used on Kendra and the others?"

"We recovered the cannister from the bus, but so far have been unable to break
down the residue within sufficiently to develop an antidote," the Admiral
frowned. "The Lieutenant was lucky she only caught a whiff of the gas. It
would appear that in order to be 100% lethal, the gas must be inhaled in an
enclosed environment, as it dissipates rapidly in the open air and becomes far
less deadly."

"And about that other matter we discussed?" Jessi asked hopefully.

"It's an odd request, Miss Chance, but I've taken it to the proper
authorities, and we should have an answer within two days," he shrugged.

"I hope that will be soon enough," said Jessica quietly.

Farthingdale added his own silent plea to that of the redhead.

* * * * *

"Why are we checking this place out when the Admiral told you his people
already talked to them?" Lupe asked as their rental car--Courtesy of British
Intelligence--pulled into the parking lot of Daytech Industries.

"Because I can't sit in that hospital room another second, Lupe. And because I
have to do SOMETHING, and this is the only lead the Admiral's people came up
with," she frowned, looking up at the rather small, half-century-old building.

"And eliminated," the Spaniard reminded her.

"Just humor me, Lupe. Please?" the redhead pleaded.

"After this, we return to the hotel, and Myrna, si?" pressed the brunette,
revealing her true reason for protesting.

"Si," grinned Jessi.

The blonde behind the main reception desk smiled politely and matter-of-factly
answered Jessi's questions, informing the redhead that Daytech had offices all
over the world, including Ireland. The woman--Lorna, according to the name tag
she wore--explained that Daytech was a computer software development company
that had been started back in 1999 by a group of Silicon Valley rebels and had
quickly become one of the major innovators of new computer technology.

"I'd never heard of your company before this morning," Jessica stated. "What
programs have you produced?"

"None. You see, Daytech doesn't actually produce anything, except ideas,
methods of doing things, and some very hi-tech equipment which you wouldn't be
familiar with, unless you were a computer engineer," Lorna elaborated
cheerfully.

"I see. If you don't mind, could I take a look at your shipping invoices for
the past month? Especially any shipments which came from your Ireland office,"
Jessi added politely but firmly.

"I'll have to check with my supervisors. One moment please," Lorna replied,
her smile slipping momentarily. She adjusted her headset and typed onto her
keyboard.

"Yes?" growled Kyna when her intercom beeped shrilly. Kyla was presently
straddling her, rubbing her small, but well-formed, breasts against the
slightly larger ones of her sister. Both brunettes were topless and Kyna's
fingers were slipped inside her sister's panties, fingering her into a climax.

"I have a woman here who wants to see our shipping invoices. She's with an
American agency," Lorna said quietly. "A government agency."

Kyla turned her head and glanced at the bank of monitors, which displayed the
various rooms of the complex, and suddenly stood up, startling her sister. She
pointed to one of the screens, the one which showed the front desk, and
snarled, "That's the same bitch who nearly caught me yesterday!"

Kyna paused in her reply to Lorna and smiled wickedly. "Let her have the
invoices, but take yer time. I want her delayed for at least 20 minutes.
Understood?" she asked.

"Understood," Lorna answered.

"I think it's time for Brianna to do her stuff, sister," grinned Kyna, gently
pulling Kyla back down on to her lap.

"I was just thinking the same thing," smirked Kyla, lowering her head and
sucking on Kyna's breast.

Kyna reached around her sister and pushed a button on her phone.

"It may take a while to locate those particular invoices," Lorna informed
Jessica with feigned concern. "If you'll have a seat I'll bring them over to
you when I get them."

"What's the matter? Can't Daytech be bothered to develop a better file
retrieval system?" she scowled, walking over and sitting next to Lupe on a
large, ugly couch.

Lorna shrugged and spoke quietly into her headset.

Ten minutes later Lorna walked over and handed Jessica a stack of papers.
"Here you are. Sorry about the delay."

"Hey! These are the shipping invoices for Scotland, not Ireland," the redhead
stated, pointing to the word and holding the stack up for Lorna to see.

"Oopsie. My mistake. I thought you said Scotland," she explained, taking the
papers. "It'll just take a few minutes to get you the ones you want."

"Sure it will," muttered Jessica, sitting down heavily next to Lupe.

Ten minutes later Lorna walked over and handed Jessica a stack of papers.
"Last month's shipping invoices from Ireland, as requested."

Jessica quickly scanned the papers and nodded. "These are the right ones."

"And it's about flippin' time," added Lupe under her breath.

"If you need anything else, please ask me," smiled Lorna as she walked back
over to her desk.

Jessi ignored her as she pored over the papers.

"Nothing?" huffed Lupe disgustedly as she climbed into the passenger seat of
the BMW. "After all that hassle, you come up with nada?"

"On the contrary, if I'm right, I just sent the McMasters a very definite
message and we should be receiving their reply shortly," Jessi grinned, gazing
up at the dark glass windows of Daytech's upper offices as she slid behind the
wheel.

"Whatever. Can we go back to the hotel now?" the Spaniard asked.

"Of course. I promised you we would, didn't I?" the redhead smiled as she
pulled out of the parking lot.

Down the street, a pair of female hands pulled tightly on some racing gloves
and firmly gripped the steering wheel of the Ferrari as its engine roared to
life.

"This is going to be fun," purred Brianna as she gunned the motor and peeled
out, following the larger car.

"See?" said Jessi with a smirk, gesturing to the sports car directly behind
them. "I told you that I'd be getting a reply very shortly."

Lupe glanced over her shoulder and saw a woman driving an Italian sports car.
When the other woman waved at her and nodded politely, she automatically waved
back. "What makes you think that woman is part of the New Erin Army?" she
asked.

Just then, the Ferrari accelerated and rather gently rammed their car.

"Call it a hunch," Jessi smiled, fighting to keep her car on the road.

Lupe looked behind them and saw the woman gesturing for them to pull over.
"She wants us to stop," Lupe related, accompanied by another, much less gentle
nudge from the sports car.

"I gathered as much," Jessica replied, blowing the hair from her face and
holding even more tightly to the wheel.

When the BMW didn't pull over, Brianna pulled a strange gun from her handbag
and aimed it at the car's rear window.

"She's got some kind of gun!" Lupe exclaimed.

"Start pushing buttons and flipping switches!" Jessi ordered, swerving the car
all over the road to make it a more difficult target. "This is a British
Intelligence vehicle, so there's bound to be all kinds of useful espionage
accessories."

Lupe flipped a switch...and the windshield wipers began scraping across the
windshield.

She pushed a button...and the sounds of the latest pop band filled the car.

She pulled a lever...and the back of her seat fell backwards.

She flipped another switch...and the headlights came on.

"What the Hell kind of spy car is this?!" groaned Jessi, continuing her
evasive maneuvers, even as the strange gun fired deadly laser bolts at them.

Lupe pulled a large lever in between the two seats...

"Not that one!" shrieked Jessica, bracing herself.

...and their car suddenly screeched as its tires skidded across the pavement
and it came to a sudden stop on the dirt shoulder of the road.

"That's the emergency brake!" the redhead stated.

Then, the Ferrari crashed into their rear bumper, causing both of their
airbags to explode outward, enveloping their faces in white plastic.

The terrorist's airbag likewise exploded, causing Brianna to drop her gun.

The American was the first out of her car, followed closely by the terrorist.
Lupe, meanwhile, having never seen an airbag, was screaming and tearing at it
with her teeth and nails, when it suddenly exploded, momentarily stunning the
Spaniard.

Brianna appraised her opponent and smiled cruelly. The woman was about 5' 10",
with red hair which hung about her shouldrers in soft curls and piercing blue
eyes. Her build was nothing out of the ordinary, but the terrorist had learned
not to underestimate appearances, and felt sure that the lithe body also
contained its fair share of muscles. The woman's breasts, clearly visible
through the sheer material of her top, were slightly pointed, the nipples
pressing against the blouse she wore. Besides the blouse, she was wearing a
short skirt and a pair of white pumps, which she kicked off her as soon as she
exited her car.

"My name is Brianna, Miss Chance," she smiled. "And I am going to regret
killing you before getting a chance to enjoy you."

Jessica looked at the strange woman and swallowed hard. She was gorgeous.
Brown hair with red highlights, barely shoulder length, framed a face which
should have been on the cover of fashion magazines, instead of leering at her
like that. She had large green eyes and a slightly turned up nose with round,
inviting lips. Her figure was intimidating. She stood close to 6', with
well-developed muscles and large, full breasts. She was wearing a black
leather mini skirt, red bikini top, and high heels.

"I don't suppose there's any point in discussing your surrender?" Jessica
shrugged.

"My surrender? Oh, that's a good one, Yank," Brianna laughed, digging her long
toes into the loose dirt.

"We do outnumber you two to one," she added, gesturing toward Lupe, who was
crawling dazedly from the car, covered with white powder.

Brianna quickly appraised the second woman. She was easily 6' tall, with a
wild mane of what would ordinarily have been dark brown hair, when it wasn't
coated with white powder. She was more obviously muscular than the redhead and
her breasts were larger and more rounded. She was wearing a straining tank top
and shorts, of indeterminate color, thanks to the powder, and sandals, which
she immediately kicked off.

The terrorist stifled a laugh. "Oh, yeah, I'm, like, so scared of you two I
can barely keep from fainting out of fear," she mocked.

The three women looked at each for a minute and then suddenly rushed each
other.

Lupe, hoping to catch Brianna off guard, went in low, while Jessica jumped up,
kicking at the terrorist's head. Unfortunately, the other woman was ready for
both attacks and she deftly spun out of Jessi's way, lashing out with her foot
and staggering Lupe with a blow to her middle in the process, and then swung
her arm around and caught the redhead by the ankle and brought her roughly to
the ground.

Brianna then slammed her forearm into the side of Lupe's head and followed
that up by looping her buff arm around the dazed Spaniard's throat. The
terrorist then dropped onto Jessica, who was still lying on her back, catching
her breath, and planted one knee onto her gut and the other across her
windpipe. Then, still maintaining the hold on Lupe, she delivered a series of
rapid, extremely hard punches to the brunette's stomach. As Lupe collapsed,
Brianna jumped up off of Jessica, pushing off by driving her knee deep into
the redhead's gut, and guided the winded Spaniard down across Jessi's body.

Smiling with open delight, the terrorist then leaped up and landed heavily on
Lupe's back, pressing her larger bulk down even harder on the prone redhead
beneath both of them. Brianna grabbed handfuls of both women's hair and
smashed their heads into the ground several times, banging the back of Jessi's
skull and bloodying the Spaniard's face with the dirt and rocks.

Out of sheer desperation, Jessi reached up and raked her nails across
Brianna's thigh, leaving bright red welts. The terrorist howled in pain and
then swung around and belted Jessica across the mouth.

"Do anything like that again, Yank, and I'll make your death even more painful
than I planned," she hissed, clamping one hand around the redhead's throat and
slapping her sharply. Before Jessica could respond, Lupe, having finally
caught her breath, suddenly reared back, tossing the terrorist off of her, and
turned to face the startled woman, glaring at her with terrible ferocity.

"Do you want this one alive, too, Jessica?" she growled, advancing on the
terrorist, who was scrambling to her feet.

"I need to find out what she knows," Jessica replied, sitting up and massaging
her bruised throat.

"She will tell us everything, I promise you that," grinned Lupe wolfishly.

"Don't bet on it, puta!" snarled Brianna, slowly circling the Spaniard.

Lupe charged in, thrusting her shoulder into the other's middle, lifting her
off her feet and driving her back into the side of the BMW. Lupe then stepped
back and once more rammed her foe's back into the car.

But Brianna raised both hands over her head and then brought them together and
dropped them onto the small of Lupe's back. At the same time, she drove her
left knee up and into the other woman's chest. Both blows were repeated
several times, crushing the Spaniard's lower back. In control now, the
terrorist pushed on Lupe's shoulders and snapped her right knee up into her
face. Feeling the Spaniard's legs giving out, she smiled and stood her
upright. Then, as Lupe swayed uncertainly on legs of jelly, Brianna reached
out and clamped her left hand onto the Spaniard's right breast, her nails
digging painfully into the soft flesh. Before Lupe could even groan in pain,
Brianna's right fist swung around and crashed into her jaw. Were it not for
the fact that the terrorist retained her painful hold on her tit, Lupe would
no doubt have been knocked to the ground. As it was, blood exploded from her
mouth and she cried in agony as it felt like her breast was being ripped from
her body. When the terrorist's backhand blow connected on the other side of
her jaw, tearing the tender flesh of her tit in the other direction, she
dropped to her knees, her bloodied face falling backwards.

"No more, senorita," she coughed, spitting up blood. "Please. No more."

Brianna grinned and then chopped down, viciously striking her right hand
across the base of the other woman's neck.

When she let go of Lupe's breast, the Spaniard toppled backwards onto the
ground. The rise and fall of her ravaged chest assured Jessica that she was
still alive as the redhead managed to climb to her feet just in time to
witness the last moments of the one-sided contest.

"Now, cupcake, it's just you and me," smirked Brianna, brushing her hands
together.

"Suits me. I'm not really into threesomes. I much prefer the intimacy of a
one-on-one encounter," she replied, watching the terrorist closely.

The brunette licked her lips with anticipation and then closed with the
redhead, both women placing their hands on the others shoulders as their legs
kicked out, trying to trip the other and force her to her back. Or, that's
what Brianna was apparently doing. Jessica, however, reared back a bit and
then kicked straight up, like she was trying to make a 60 yard field goal,
burying her toes deep into Brianna's crotch, and actually lifting the brunette
off of her feet.

The terrorist shrieked and landed uncertainly on her feet, allowing Jessica
the opportunity to line up and go for another 3-pointer.

This one not only lifted Brianna off her feet but actually knocked her to her
back, where she curled up into a softly moaning ball of pain.

"What's the matter, Bri? You can dish it out but can't take it?" Jessica said,
shaking her head as she walked over to the downed woman. "Isn't that typical
of a bully like you."

As Jessica bent over to grab her arm and lift her up to continue the battle,
the terrorist suddenly flipped over, the heel of her foot slamming into the
redhead's temple and staggering her enough to allow the brunette to get to her
feet. "Oh, I can take it, bitch!" she spat, spinning around and kicking the
same spot, knocking Jessi into the crushed front end of the Ferrari. "But I
prefer to dish it out!"

She grabbed a handful of red hair and began smashing Jessi's face against the
torn metal.

Jessica frantically reached back and looped her left arm around Brianna's head
and, using every bit of her considerable strength, hurled her across the hood
and into the cracked windshield, which shattered, leaving the terrorist
slumped over the steering wheel, her face a bloody mask.

When she heard the brunette groaning, Jessi grabbed her by the ankles and
dragged her out of the car, banging her head on the ground in the process. She
then began to spin around in tight circles, the barely conscious body of the
brunette rising until it was level with the ground.

And then she let go of Brianna's ankles and she shot away from the redhead,
smashing face-first into the side of the BMW, next to Lupe.

Jessica watched in amazement as the woman, coughing and leaving a pool of
blood on the dirt, stood up and turned to face her, pieces of glass sticking
out of her flesh like some sort of human pincushion.

"Give it up, Brianna. You've lost. Let me get you to a doctor to take care of
those cuts," Jessica offered, cringing at the awful wounds.

"And then spend the rest o' me life in a feckin' Brit prison?" she spat,
squinting through blood-soaked eyelashes. "Not on yer feckin' life, Jessica!
This isn't finished until one of us is dead!"

"Sorry," said Lupe, sitting up and bending the terrorist's body around her
forearm by plunging her fist into the heaving gut of the woman. "This fight is
over right now. And you'll live to spend many, many years in prison, puta!"
Lupe's other hand cracked against the back of Brianna's neck and the terrorist
collapsed face-first onto the ground, unconscious at last.

Jessica rushed over and helped Lupe to her feet. "Nice work. Are you okay?"
she asked, kissing her dirty, bloody cheek.

"I'm in better shape than our friend," she replied, returning the kiss.

"We'll have to get her to a hospital and worry about questioning her later,"
Jessica shrugged, flipping Brianna over with her foot and sadly shaking her
head.

"And then we can go back to the hotel and Myrna?" Lupe asked hopefully.

"Yes, Lupe," Jessi laughed. "Then we will go back to the hotel and Myrna."

* * * * *

Jessica pulled the severely damaged BMW into the parking lot of the hotel at
which they had left Myrna the day before and turned to say something to Lupe,
but the brunette was already out of the car and headed for the door to their
room. By the time Jessi got there, Lupe and the young former-terrorist were
holding each other tightly.

"Of course I'm still here, Lupe," Myrna was saying, wondering why the older
woman was crying. "I promised you that I would be, didn't I?"

"Yes, muchacha, you did," Lupe nodded pulling back and kissing the end of her
nose sweetly. "But, the past day has been so trying, that I thought...Never
mind. You're here and, finally, I'm here. Now, we must make the most of that!"

Myrna smiled a bit wickedly and then glanced over at the redhead.

"Oh, don't mind me, I was just heading out to grab some food," she sighed,
smiling. "Can I bring you two back anything?"

"Fish and chips would sure hit the spot," Myrna suggested, looking back into
Lupe's dark eyes.

"Sounds delicious," the Spaniard agreed. "Take your time."

Jessica stifled a reply and closed the door behind her.

"Oh! You're hurt!" Myrna exclaimed, noticing the fresh cuts and bruises. Then,
she saw the horrible darkening around her breast and cried out in alarm, "What
happened to you?"

"It's a long story, muchacha," Lupe sighed, carefully slipping out of the torn
tank top, exposing the full extent of her injury. "And Lupe is too tired to go
into it right now. I just want to rest, holding you close to me. All right?"

"Of course," nodded Myrna, helping the Spaniard lie down on one of the beds.
She then lay down next to her, draping one arm protectively over her tummy
while the other slipped down her shorts.

"Well, perhaps rest wasn't exactly what I meant," grinned Lupe, sliding her
hand down the front of Myrna's skirt and leaning over and kissing the younger
woman sweetly.

* * * * *

Jessica sat at a local restaurant, barely noticing the hand which kept placing
food into her mouth, or the food itself for that matter. The doctors who had
examined Brianna had said that the wounds, while unpleasant to look at, and
undoubtedly very painful, were far from fatal and, with a bit of
reconstructive surgery, she would be as beautiful as ever. Jessica hadn't
bothered to tell them that where Brianna was going she probably wouldn't be
terribly concerned with her appearance. Instead, she phoned the Admiral and
told him to send some people over to keep an eye on the terrorist, until she
was recovered enough to be moved to her new home.

"How is Lieutenant Willowgate?" she had inquired.

"Lieutenant Willowgate is stable, although she's still in that damn coma.
Sorry," he had apologized. "It's Commander Willowgate who concerns me."

"Has his condition worsened?" she had queried.

"Blazes if I know. The man has escaped from hospital. Got loose somehow and
jumped one of the nurses, tied her up and left in her clothes. That man
worries me, Miss Chance," he had muttered.

"He worries me, too," she had agreed, trying not to laugh out loud. "Any news
on that other matter, sir?" she had asked. "I can't help but feel that the
McMasters wouldn't have been so obvious in their attempt on my life if the
assassination weren't going to happen soon."

"I tend to agree, Miss Chance, but, unfortunately, the wheels of government
speed up for very few people," he had replied, sighing heavily. "And I am only
rarely one of those people."

"I understand, sir. Thanks for your help."

"Oh, no, Miss Chance, thank you for your help," he had emphasized.

Oh, yeah, Jessi thought to herself, sitting in the restaurant, automatically
chewing whatever her hand placed in her mouth, I've been a HUGE help.

She glanced at her watch and decided that even if Myrna and Lupe were still
going at it that they would have to continue with her in the next bed, since
she was exhausted and anxious to get a good night's rest. She suspected that
tomorrow was going to be an extremely busy day.

* * * * *

Lorna looked up from her computer screen and adopted her most plastic smile
when she saw the two women from the day before. "Back so soon, Miss Chance?
What can I do for you today?" she asked, casually opening a drawer, revealing
a large automatic pistol.

Before she could withdraw it, however, the taller of the two women had vaulted
over the circular reception desk and roughly hauled her to her feet by the
lapels of her blouse.

"Wh-what's the meaning of this?" she stammered, looking over at Jessica with
feigned innocence. "If this is about the delay in getting your information
yesterday--Ooommphhh!!!" She gasped for breath as Lupe's fist suddenly buried
itself in her tummy.

"I really don't have time for any games, Lorna. Nor do I have time to drive
you out to the country and extract the information I need by less violent
methods," Jessica frowned. "So, I'm simply going to have Lupe here beat the
information out of you. Unless you want to tell me about the McMasters twins."

"Wh-who--Unngh!" She staggered when Lupe's knee drove up between her legs.

"BZZZ! Wrong answer, Lorna. Care to try again?" Jessica asked, hopping up onto
the desk and casually crossing her legs. "Let me help you. Tell me what you
know about Kyla and Kyna McMasters and their plans to assassinate the King."

"You're mad--Urk!" This time Lupe's hand flashed across her cheek, leaving a
bright red hand print.

"Look, it's really quite simple, Lorna," Jessica said easily. "I'm not too
interested in seeing you go to prison, so, if you just tell me what I want to
know, we'll leave and you're free to clear out before British Intelligence
comes in here and starts to make people disappear. Catch my meaning?" Lorna
nodded cautiously. "Good. Now then, tell me everything you can about Kyla and
Kyna McMasters and their plans."

"Th-they'll kill me!" she squeaked, bracing for the Spaniard's next blow.

But Jessica shook her head and Lupe simply continued to hold the frightened
blonde by her blouse.

"If you help me, they'll be in prison for the rest of their lives, where they
won't be able to hurt anybody again," Jessica assured her. "When is the
assassination going to happen?"

"Th-this afternoon," she replied in a very small voice.

Jessi nearly fell off the desk. She figured it was going to happen soon, but
she certainly hadn't expected it to be today.

"Where is it going to be, Lorna?" the redhead asked as calmly as she could,
the King's schedule for the day flashing through her mind: He was attending
the dedication ceremony of a brand new children's hospital at 1 and then going
to watch his youngest son play polo at 4. Could the twins be planning to
eliminate not only the King, but Prince Harry as well? She then recalled how
the gas they were using was only guaranteed to be effective in an enclosed
area and realized that neither of these locales would suit the terrorists'
needs as they were both out of doors. Maybe they were planning on firing it
into the King's car on his way to one of the events, having devised some
method to pierce either the bullet-proof glass or the armor shielding of the
vehicle, but neither option seemed too plausible.

"I'm not sure," she winced when Lupe raised her hand, but let out her breath
in a sigh of relief when the Spaniard merely scratched her nose.

Jessica frowned. She was inclined to believe the woman, given the McMasters'
tendency to not trust any vital information with underlings.

"How do you know the assassination is to take place today, Lorna?" Jessica
suddenly asked. "The twins didn't take you into their confidence, did they?"

"Hardly," she snorted. "Not those two. I overheard them talking on the
intercom, accidentally, of course."

"Of course. Wait! When did you overhear them?" the redhead demanded.

"This morning, right before they left-" she began.

"They have an office here?" Lorna nodded. "Show me!"

The blonde led the pair of women up a flight of stairs to a locked pair of
double doors. "I don't have a key," the receptionist shrugged.

Jessica grunted and casually kicked the doors off their hinges. "No problem,"
the redhead said, entering the large room and heading straight for the large
desk while Lupe walked over to the filing cabinet and calmly ripped open a
locked drawer and began rifling through its contents.

Neither woman seemed to care when Lorna casually backed out of the room and
then bolted for the stairs.

A moment later they heard a car screaming out of the parking lot and Jessi
glanced out of the window and then said simply, "Smart girl."

Lupe snarled in frustration and wrenched open another drawer, finding nothing
but invoices and shipping manifests in the first.

Jessi meanwhile had picked the lock of the lower desk drawers and was pawing
through the papers within.

"Wait a minute," she said loudly, pulling a small black date book from the
drawer. "I may have something here." She quickly scanned the pages, searching
for today's date and paused, her green eyes staring at the page with sudden,
terrible comprehension.

"Oh, my Goddess!" she exclaimed, tucking the book in her belt and rushing over
to Lupe. She grabbed her by the hand and then ran out of the room and headed
for the stairs. "We've got to get to Westminster!"

"That is nowhere near where the King will be today," Lupe pointed out, taking
three steps at a time.

"Exactly," nodded Jessica, leaping down the entire final flight of stairs
without touching a single one. She burst through the door to the lobby and
stopped dead in her tracks.

A dozen armed men stood in the lobby, pointing their guns directly at the two
women.

"London police, Special Unit," barked one of the men. "Any sudden moves and we
will shoot you where you stand, ladies."

Jessica breathed a sigh of relief and held up her hands. Lupe did likewise.
"Inspector, if you will permit me to remove my identification from my handbag,
I will show you that I am an agent of the US government, and am currently
working with Admiral Farthingdale to prevent an assassination," she said with
a nervous smile, noting that none of the automatic weapons pointed at them had
been lowered.

"Of course you are, miss," chuckled the man, glancing over his shoulder at the
other men. "And I'm really the Lord Mayor of London. I'm just doing this for
the sport."

The men all began to laugh loudly.

"If you'll just let me get my ID card, or call Admiral Farthingdale, this
entire thing can be cleared up immediately," Jessica said evenly, although her
face was getting a bit flushed and her hands had balled up into tightly
clenched fists.

"I'm not going to bother the Admiral about some terrorist tarts," growled the
man. "Now, cover me, Wilkins, while I search the prisoners to be sure they're
not carrying any concealed weapons."

"You really don't want to do this," Jessica said softly, her eyes narrowing
with outrage.

"Yes, I really do," the inspector countered, approaching her and removing his
gloves.

"No, you don't, Kensington," growled a familiar voice.

Everyone turned at the sound and saw a man with dark hair and steel eyes rise
up from behind the reception desk, an Uzi in his hands. He was wearing an
ill-fitting sweater and sweat pants, and he wasn't smiling.

"Trevor!" exclaimed Jessica and Lupe together.

"C-C-Commander W-Willowgate," stammered the inspector.

"Good to see you again, Derrick," Trevor nodded. "Now, tell your men to lower
their weapons, or this little reunion could turn unnecessarily ugly." He
casually flicked off the safety switch, priming the machine gun.

"Of c-course, Commander. No need for guns, lads," he smiled nervously. "It
would seem these birds were telling the truth...Or the good commander here is
now a terrorist."

"Hardly," grinned Trevor. Noting that the other men had lowered their weapons,
he likewise lowered his own.

Instantly, he felt a gun barrel jab into his back and he cursed softly as he
glanced around and saw that one of Kensington's men had sneaked around and
gotten the drop on him. He reluctantly dropped his Uzi to the floor and, at
the prodding insistence of the gun, moved around to the front of the desk.

Kensington walked over to him, smiling obscenely. "Then, perhaps you can tell
me, Commander, why you're wanted by your own people?" he inquired smugly.
"Every law enforcement agent in London received official notice that you were
to be arrested and turned in to British Intelligence if spotted. Can you
explain that, Trevor?"

"I...sort of escaped from hospital," he replied sheepishly.

"I see," chuckled Kensington. "And for this they put out a general warrant for
your apprehension?"

"Well...I did assault a few people during the escape," he confessed. "But, no
one was seriously injured...except for that idiot who pinched me bum on the
bus. But he only required a few stitches and some bed rest, I'm sure."

"He escaped from hospital wearing a nurse's outfit," Jessica explained, noting
the puzzled look on the inspector's face.

"I see," Kensington laughed. "Well, be that as it may, I have orders to bring
you in, Commander, and that's what I intend to do." He reached around behind
him to get a pair of handcuffs from his belt.

"Sorry, Derrick," Trevor said quietly. He then twisted around and, grabbing
the muzzle of the gun in his back, turned and hurled the startled man holding
it directly into Kensington, knocking both men backwards into several of their
equally surprised fellows.

"I hope you two have a car close by," Trevor said as he leapt up and kicked
another man in the face while simultaneously cracking the stock of the gun
across another man's head.

"Get the car, Lupe!" Jessica grinned, tossing her the keys. "Trevor and I will
be out after we've finished cleaning up in here."

Lupe smiled and nodded, catching the keys and heading out the door to the
parking lot, downing one man with a spinning kick as she left.

"This is only going to make things worse for you, Commander," warned
Kensington, rising to his feet and charging at Trevor.

"Oh, come on, Derrick," grunted Willowgate, lifting a struggling man over his
head and tossing him into the faces of three of his fellows. "What's a
friendly brawl between friends?"

Jessica meanwhile waded into the fight, kicking and punching anyone who was
foolish to get close to her, making her way over to the Commander.

"We really don't have time for this, Trevor," she hissed, burying her foot in
a man's stomach and then slamming his head into another man's middle.

Willowgate frowned, but then nodded. "You're right, Jessi. Let's go," he said,
grabbing a man by his collar and throwing him into the desk.

"Not so fast, Trevor!" snarled Kensington, catching the man off-guard with a
punch to his lower right back.

Pain exploded in Willowgate's body, filling it like the ripples in a pond from
a tossed rock, and he dropped to one knee.

"You idiot!" screamed Jessica, spinning around and striking Kensington full in
the face with her fist. "He just underwent surgery for a ruptured appendix.
What are you trying to do, kill him?" She didn't wait for an answer, but
instead jumped up and kicked out, catching the inspector on the point of his
chin with the toe of her shoe.

He fell backwards soundlessly, landing on a pile of his men.

Seeing that all the other men were either unconscious or nearly so, Jessica
grabbed Trevor by the arm and helped him to his feet. "Are you all right?" she
asked, placing his arm around her shoulders.

"I've been better," he said, managing a weak smile.

"You've been a lot worse, too," she reminded him with a grin as they made
their way out into the parking lot.

Jessica helped Trevor into the waiting car and then opened the driver's door
and crawled in, forcing Lupe over into the passenger seat.

"What happened to the front end?" she asked casually, noticing that it
contained some new dents.

"I had a little trouble," Lupe confessed. "I've never driven before, Jessica."

"No kidding," the redhead laughed as she floored the gas and the BMW belched
smoke and then ripped out of the parking lot, leaving solid black tracks in
its wake. "Lupe, get the cell phone from my bag and give it to Trevor."

"I suppose I should ring up the Admiral and fill him in on things," Trevor
sighed, accepting the phone, and removing a Remington revolver from its hiding
place beneath the driver's seat.

"And have him get us clearance to the New Palace of Westminster," Jessi added,
cranking the wheel and accelerating down the road. "The target isn't the King,
it's the entire House of Lords."

"Good heavens!" exclaimed Trevor, nearly dropping the phone.

* * * * *

Jessica drove the battered BMW around to the back of the House of Peers and
stopped when she saw a large white truck with the words "Crown Catering"
written on its side, suddenly recalling invoices from that company among the
files in the McMasters twins' office at Daytech. She pulled up next to the
truck and before she could park, Trevor spotted Mick and Sean, dressed in
black tuxedos, getting out of the back of the catering van with trays of food.

"There's two of the terrorists!" he exclaimed, leaping out of the still-moving
car, leaving his gun lying on the back seat in his rush.

"Go with him, Lupe, and give him any help he may need, since he's still weak
from his ordeal," the redhead reminded her.

"Si, Jessica. I will be glad to help him deal with those two cerdos!" she
spat, jumping from the car and following Trevor into the rear entrance,
pursuing the two men, who had dropped their trays and ran inside upon seeing
him.

Jessi was about to follow them when she spotted a familiar figure, now clothed
in a black cocktail waitress' dress, exiting from another door. The woman
stopped when she saw the redhead getting out of her car and then smiled.

"So pleased to finally meet ya, Miss Chance," she said loudly, waiting as
Jessica approached her.

"We've met, albeit hurriedly, before, or have you forgotten?" Jessi inquired,
cursing the fact that the inhibiting frequency was still being broadcast loud
and clear.

"That was my sister, Kyla," the brunette corrected.

Jessica paused a few feet from the woman and noticed that, unlike the woman
she had encountered, this one had blue eyes. "My mistake, Miss McMasters, and,
please, call me Jessica," she returned.

"And ya can call me Kyna," she said, inclining her head slightly.

Kyna stood a bit shorter than Jessica and had a more obviously muscled build,
not as well-defined as Brianna's, but much more than Jessi's own. She had long
brown hair, which was currently tied up in a knot on top of her head, and
sparkling, but cold, blue eyes which were almost reptilian in their flatness.
Her chest was large, and that was further exaggerated by the way the dress she
was wearing pushed her breasts up and outward, and her black nylon-clad legs
displayed powerful calves and thighs. She slipped out of the black stiletto
heels as Jessica likewise kicked her own shoes off.

"Kyna, then. This is insane. British Intelligence will be here in a few
minutes and unless you and your people surrender, things are going to get very
ugly," Jessica warned her, tensing for her attack nevertheless.

"Things are already uglier than ya know, dear," she replied, lashing out with
a quick kick, which Jessi easily avoided. Kyna then dropped low and swept her
leg at Jessica's, but the redhead jumped over the attempt and kicked out,
catching the brunette in the face and knocking her backwards.

But, before Jessi could follow up, Kyna continued to roll over until she was
standing upright, arms raised defensively. She raised a finger to her mouth
and wiped at the blood from a split lip.

"First blood to ya, Jessica," she said, nodding her head. Then, with a speed
which left the redhead unable to defend against it, she sprang forward and
simultaneously swiped at Jessi with her right hand while bringing her left leg
up and around in an arc which connected with the American's cheek. She quickly
doubled Jessi up by following through with a one-two combination to her gut
and then knocked her backward with a powerful uppercut to the point of her
chin.

Jessica was staggered, but managed to stay on her feet, which unfortunately
only made it easier for Kyna to continue her assault. Which she did by leaping
up and hitting her full in the chest with a flying drop-kick. This time,
Jessica was hurled back and would have fallen to the ground were it not for
the fact that she landed against the front end of the BMW.

Kyna walked up and peppered her face with rights and lefts until the redhead
desperately reached up and grabbed her by the shoulders, pulled her close, and
drove her knee up between the brunette's legs. Hard. Several times.

But Kyna was somehow able to halt the painful assault on her groin by likewise
grabbing Jessi's shoulders and then ramming her head against that of the
redhead, stunning Jessi and causing her to release the terrorist, who quickly
backed up and then, solidly planting her right foot, thrust her left one into
Jessi's middle, lifting her off her feet and sending her crashing into the
BMW's windshield, which cracked but held.

Observing her foe's bloody face, Kyna laughed, "Second blood, however, goes to
me. And so will final blood, my American friend." She walked around to the
side of the car and was reaching up to grab Jessi, who was leaning back
against the windshield, when the redhead's legs suddenly whipped around and
locked on her neck. Before the brunette could reach up and attempt to pry them
loose, Jessi spun and banged Kyna's head against the driver's window, and then
repeated the maneuver, shattering it on the second blow.

The terrorist screamed and grabbed Jessi's ankles and yanked her off of the
hood of the car, dropping her painfully onto her ass on the concrete parking
lot. She then folded the redhead's legs over until her feet were touching the
ground next to her head and began to kick Jessi in the small of her back with
the side of her foot.

But Jessica reached out and yanked Kyna off her feet, depositing her to her
ass on the hard ground.

Both women sat up slowly, rubbing their bruised backsides, glaring at each
other.

Suddenly, Jessica lunged forward and buried her head in Kyna's belly, grabbing
her ankles at the same time. Jessica then pushed off with her powerful legs
and flipped over, landing with her ass on Kyna's face, and still holding
tightly to the brunette's ankles. The terrorist's hands clawed futilely at
Jessi's back, ripping her short dress to shreds, but not managing to force the
redhead off of her face. Kyna then tried to kick free, but Jessi held her
ankles fast. She then tried to bend her back down flat, and force the redhead
back off her face in the process, but she was unable to budge the American.

"You're only wearing yourself out faster by struggling," Jessica smiled,
wiggling her pantied rear on the woman's face, letting her ass cheeks settle
on both sides and cutting off her supply of oxygen.

After a few minutes, Jessica felt Kyna's body going limp. Still, she waited a
bit longer, and sat down as heavily as she could in the meantime, before
shifting her weight and allowing air to reach the woman.

When Kyna remained still, she cautiously sat back enough to get a good look at
her face. She looked almost serene, despite the cuts and blood, and was quite
clearly unconscious, or just barely awake. Jessica released her ankles and
then scooted backward until she was sitting on Kyna's chest, but the brunette
only gasped a bit as she sucked air into her lungs and her eyes remained
closed.

Satisfied, Jessica stood up and then reached down and hauled Kyna to her feet
by her hair, the pain causing her to become more alert.

"Come on, Kyna!" she sighed, yanking the terrorist behind her. "I've got some
questions for you and something to help loosen your tongue." She walked over
to the BMW and opened the back door. She then picked up Trevor's Remington and
forced Kyna into the back seat.

Jessica frowned and looked at the defiant woman next to her, and then at the
gun in her hand. "You're right, Kyna," she sighed, tossing the revolver out
the window, "I won't shoot you. And, it would also appear that I can't beat
the answer out of you. So, I am forced to employ other methods of persuasion."
She sat back and swiveled, bringing her legs around the thighs of the
terrorist. She then reached over and grabbed both of the groggy brunette's
wrists with her right hand. "Just remember, Kyna, that you forced me to do
this."

The terrorist's eyes widened with anxiety as Jessi's left hand shot forward
and thrust itself into her stomach. But, instead of the pain she expected,
Kyna suddenly found herself being tickled!

Despite her best efforts not to, she couldn't help but laugh.

"This is cheatin' o' the most foul sort, Jessica!" she giggled, struggling
vainly to free her hands or legs.

"Just tell me how you plan to kill the Lords and I'll stop," Jessica promised,
moving her hand up beneath Kyna's arm, working on the spot where her breast
met her underarm, and driving the brunette wild with pleasure.

"I canna, ya lousy cur!" she laughed, trying to sound angry but not even
coming close. "Stop! For the love o' Mike! Stop!"

"Tell me!" Jessica demanded, her fingers moving down to Kyna's ribs.

"Oh, Goddess! No! Not me ribs!" the brunette howled, laughing uncontrollably
now. "Stop it!"

"How are you and Kyla going to kill the Lords?" she repeated, her fingers
digging into Kyna's side.

"No! Never!" she gasped, her face now more red from exhaustion than from the
cuts.

Jessica was about to move to her last resort, Kyna's feet, when she suddenly
felt the cessation of the frequency which prevented her from employing her
psychic abilities. Her mind exploded outward, like a big dog being allowed to
run free in a park on Sunday after being cooped up in a tiny apartment all
week, and she quickly entered the helpless terrorist's mind and shuddered at
what she found there.

Visions of a young man, whom she instinctively knew was Kyna's brother, being
gunned down by British troops during a protest rally, holding nothing more
deadly in his hands than a sign. Images of people whom she knew were friends
and family of the McMasters being tortured by British military personnel as
two young girls watched in horror. And, finally, a woman, her mother, being
raped and beaten by a British officer before being dumped in a river to drown.

Jessica pushed past those awful images, searching for the answers she needed
and found herself seeing a statue of the Goddess of Justice, blindfold across
her eyes and sword raised high. But, no, not a statue exactly, for it
glistened like a diamond. Then, she realized that it was an ice sculpture, but
beneath a thin layer of ice was the deadly gas, in a frozen state. As the ice
melted, she discovered, exposing the compound to the air, it would return to
its gaseous state and kill everyone in the area.

She pulled free from Kyna's mind and noticed that the terrorist was looking at
her strangely.

"How the devil did ya do that?" she demanded, the last of her laughter dying
in her throat.

"No time to explain right now, Kyna, I've got to stop your sister!" she
exclaimed, punching the terrorist squarely in the mouth and knocking her out.

She then exited the car, dragging Kyna out behind her, and opened the damaged,
but still functional, trunk and then dumped the slumbering brunette inside.
"Pleasant dreams, Kyna," she smiled, thinking of the frightened little girl
she had once been, and then slammed the lid closed.

* * * * *

When Lupe ran through the delivery doors she found herself in a large kitchen
area and was about to assist Trevor, who had cornered the two men on the far
side of the room and was about to engage them, when she saw three young women
wearing black cocktail waitress' outfits.

"You'd better clear out of here, muchachas, before you get hurt," she warned
them. "Those men are not really caterers but Irish terrorists."

"No shit, you Spanish twat!" exclaimed one of the women as all three of them
advanced toward a very surprised Lupe.

The brunette nodded and appraised her opponents, readying herself for battle.

All three of them had blonde hair which was currently done up in a knot on top
of their heads and looked to be in about their mid-20's.

The first, the one who had spoken and was wearing a name tag which read
"Bridget," was also the prettiest of the trio. She had eyes of brown and was a
bit taller than the other two, standing 5' 8" at least. She also had the most
muscular build, her forearms in particular bulging with power, as well as her
thighs.

The second, whose name tag read "Arlana," was shorter, maybe 5' 6", and had
eyes of hazel and an attractive face. She was the thinnest of the trio, with
small breasts, whose size was enhanced by the manner in which her costume
pushed them up and out, and a narrow waist. She had longer legs than one would
have thought, giving her the illusion of seeming taller than she was, and they
were nicely curved, though not particularly muscular.

The third one, "Kerry," according to her name tag, had a very large chest and
a thick, but far from fat, build. Voluminous is the word which would spring
most readily to mind in order to describe her, Lupe thought to herself. She
had a very pretty face with rounded features and eyes of blue.

Bridget glanced over at her companions and then nodded. All three instantly
rushed the larger woman.

* * * * *

Meanwhile, Trevor was busy with Mick and Sean, finding the two cornered men
not quite as challenging when he was untied.

Mick stood a good 6' 3" tall and had dusty hair and green eyes, one of which
was in the process of swelling up from a roundhouse right by the Commander. He
was the bulkier of the pair, with muscles which were growing soft from lack of
exercise, and could still be dangerous when he put his weight behind a blow,
as Trevor discovered when he got too close and was tagged with a left to his
jaw.

Sean had dark hair, cut very short, and eyes of a much darker green than his
fellow. He also currently had a split lip, courtesy of one of Trevor's kicks.
He was in better shape than Mick, as his well-toned body clearly revealed, but
he was every bit as cowardly and bullying, as was evidenced by the way the
Commander was able to keep the pair at bay.

"What's the matter, gentlemen, not as easy when I'm not bound hand and foot?"
Trevor taunted, dancing in and landing a solid left to the bridge of Mick's
nose.

The terrorist cried out and fell back against the wall, blood dripping from
the hand held tightly over his nose.

When Sean recoiled, glancing at his partner momentarily, Trevor lashed out and
caught him in the middle with the toe of his shoe, slamming his back against
the wall.

"First rule of battle, son, is to keep your mind on your own fight and not
worry about the other fella!" Trevor reminded him, snapping his head around
with a right cross to his jaw.

Then, Mick bellowed like a wounded bull and lowered his head and charged the
agent, driving him backwards and into one of the preparation tables, the edge
of the table stabbing sharply into his side.

When Trevor unexpectedly doubled up in obvious agony, Mick stepped back and
delivered a smashing uppercut which lifted Trevor off his feet and deposited
him onto the table on his back.

Sean grinned and rushed forward, grabbing a frying pan from a ceiling rack,
and swung it at Willowgate's head as he sat up.

Unfortunately for him, Trevor's foot shot out and connected with his face
before the pan could complete its arc, dropping him to his knees.

Mick took the opportunity to grab a sauce pan from another ceiling rack and
was about to strike the agent in the back of the head when Trevor suddenly
laid back down and whipped his legs over and into the terrorist's gut. Trevor
then looped his legs around Mick's head and hurled him into his partner,
sending both men sprawling.

He then climbed down off the table, gingerly holding his side, and walked
toward the pair as they groggily staggered to their feet.

* * * * *

Lupe met the trio's charge head-on, connecting with her fists on Arlana's
cheek and Kerry's chest, but taking a hard blow to her side from Bridget's
foot. Ignoring the pain, Lupe grabbed Kerry and Arlana by the hair and cracked
their heads together. She was about to repeat the move when her back exploded
in pain as Bridget landed a devastating combination of punches to her kidneys,
causing her to release the other two women and drop to her knees.

Kerry and Arlana immediately backed away, rubbing their heads.

Bridget, however, continued to punish the Spaniard's back by kicking it with
the pointed toe of her high heels. When Lupe suddenly reared back in agony,
the terrorist quickly looped one of her arms around the brunette's throat,
snaking her legs around the larger woman's middle and squeezing at the same
time, while her other arm continued to pound into Lupe's side.

Arlana and Kerry, having shaken loose the cobwebs caused by their "meeting of
the minds," rushed forward and one began to punch Lupe's breasts while the
other kicked at her stomach and groin.

* * * * *

As Trevor approached the two men, trying not to let his face or posture betray
the pain he felt, he casually bent over and picked up their discarded
"weapons": The frying pan and the sauce pan.

He clouted Mick squarely on the top of his head, dropping him back to his
knees, and then backhanded him with the sauce pan, laying him out cold on his
back.

Sean in the meantime had not only gotten to his feet but was in the process of
swinging his fist around into Trevor's injured side when the agent suddenly
dropped the dented sauce pan and then, holding the frying pan like a cricket
bat, swung around and caught the surprised terrorist full in the face with a
powerful uppercut. The younger man crashed backwards into the wall and then
slumped into a sitting position and slipped into unconsciousness.

Unfortunately, that last swing had torn the stitches loose from Trevor's side
and he fell to his knees in agony, clutching his side and moaning in pain
before passing out.

* * * * *

Lupe howled like her ferocious namesake and then flipped over onto her back,
crushing Bridget beneath her bulk, and kicking out with both feet, catching
both Kerry and Arlana in their bellies and sending them flying across the room
to land hard against one of the preparation tables.

Bridget, instead of releasing her holds, only squeezed all the more tightly,
desperately trying to choke the Spaniard into oblivion.

Lupe braced her feet and arched her back and then dropped down, once more
crushing the terrorist beneath her. When she felt Bridget's holds loosening
she repeated the maneuver, again and again, until the blonde finally let go.

Lupe quickly flipped over and, placing one arm across Bridget's throat,
reached down with the other hand and thrust it between her legs, her long
fingers closing painfully on the sensative flesh between the terrorist's legs.
"Can you breathe, muchacha?" she inquired, yanking upward on Bridget's sex.
"How do you like it?"

But, as Bridget coughed in response, Lupe was so preoccupied that she had
underestimated Kerry and Arlana's recuperative powers.

Arlana suddenly walked up and planted the toe of her shoe deep up Lupe's ass,
propelling her forward and off of Bridget, and into the waiting foot of Kerry,
who likewise kicked out, catching her in the throat. Lupe flopped around like
a fish on dry land, clutching her bruised neck, as Arlana helped Bridget to
her feet.

Then, all three women began to kick Lupe as hard as they could, raining blows
on her face, body and limbs, whatever they could hit, while the larger woman
tried vainly to protect herself.

Suddenly, Lupe curled up into a ball and rolled over and into the legs of one
of her tormentors, knocking her down. The Spaniard then stood up and, grabbing
the woman by her arm, swung her around and into her companions, sending all
three women to the ground.

Seizing her advantage, Lupe quickly ran over and, as each woman climbed
unsteadily to her feet, punched her hard in the belly and then immediately
followed that with a forearm to the side of the head. As all three woman stood
before her on wobbly knees, the Spaniard spun around and kicked each of them
in the face, knocking all three to their backs. Smiling now, Lupe lined the
three downed women next to each other, arms at their sides, and then sat down
on Bridget's stomach, she being in the middle, stretching her legs out and
trapping Kerry and Arlana beneath each limb and squeezing her knees together
until all three helpless women moaned with discomfort.

Lupe grinned wolfishly and first punched each of them hard in the belly. She
then moved up to their breasts, delivering her hardest shots to those of
Bridget, and punished the sensitive flesh until tears were streaming down all
three of her prisoners' faces. Still not satisfied, she reached around behind
her and undid her brassiere and then leaned forward, burying first one woman's
face and then another's with her beautiful melons until all three had passed
out.

The Spaniard sat up and shook her hair, rubbing the sweat from the back of her
neck, and then smiled down at her unconscious opponents before standing up,
bouncing her foot off their tummies and chests a few times for good measure,
and grinding her bare heel into Bridget's groin. She then looked around for
some sign of Trevor and the other terrorists.

When she spotted him lying on the floor in a puddle of blood she rushed over
and knelt beside him, opening his shirt and gasping at the blood-soaked
bandages wrapped around his middle.

* * * * *

Leaving Kyna in the trunk of the BMW, Jessica rushed into the door from which
she had seen the terrorist exit and found herself in the central lobby. To her
right was a wide staircase leading up to the meeting chamber and in front of
her was the doorway leading to the reception area. And, sitting on the table
at the front of the reception hall was the very ice sculpture she had seen in
the Kyna's mind.

As she continued into the building, she suddenly halted and leaned against the
staircase bannister for support as her mind was filled with a dreadful, and
all-too familiar, dizziness. She realized with horror that while the frequency
was no longer bombarding all of London, it was still emanating from the
individual transmitters carried by the Lords, all 1,000+ of them in attendance
on this particular day, and the cumulative effect of all those individual
transmitters so close was even more disorienting than the broadcasting of the
frequency had been.

She idly wondered why the Admiral hadn't already ordered the evacuation of the
building.

"What took ye so long, sister?" inquired Kyla from within the reception hall.

Jessica shook the confusion off as best she could and replied in her most
grating voice, "Sorry, Kyla, but Kyna's indisposed at the moment, and you will
be, too, in a few minutes."

Kyla emerged from the other room, a smiling snarl on her lovely face and
wearing the same outfit as that of her sister, her slightly larger breasts
apparent in the revealing neckline. "Oh, Miss Chance--Or may I call ye
Jessica?" The redhead shrugged her shoulders. "I was wondering when ye'd show
up," she said, cautiously advancing toward the redhead. "When Brianna never
reported back, we feared she had failed. She's dead, I assume, along with
Myrna."

"Wrong. Both women are in British custody and none the worse for their
encounters with myself and my associate," she replied casually. "As you soon
shall be, with the possible exception of being none the worse; someone who is
willing to kill over 1,000 people in order to make a point deserves the
thrashing I intend to give you."

"'To make a point?' Hardly, my dear Jessica. Today, over 1,000 people will die
to pay for their crimes against the Irish people," she stated, her green eyes
flashing with malice. "For it was these selfsame bastards who passed the
Treaty of Cardiff, which ensured that Ireland would remain under the tyranny
of the Brits for the next 50 years!"

"That treaty brought an end to the endless fighting which had ravaged your
country for nearly a century and was an honest attempt to bring peace to your
people, all of your people," Jessica corrected.

"Peace!" spat the woman disgustedly. "There can be no peace without freedom,
my American friend. Yours, of all nations on this accursed mudball, should be
the one who most recognizes that fact."

"The time for revolutions is past, Kyla. It's time for the healing to begin,"
Jessica said imploringly.

"On the contrary, Jessica, it's time for the true Irish revolution to begin!"
she grinned maniacally. "And, with the destruction of the British peerage, it
will!"

"British Intelligence is aware of your plan and will be evacuating this
building long before your gas is released, Kyla," the redhead assured her,
again wondering why it hadn't already happened.

"No, Jessica, they won't. Oh, they may be aware of the plan--I've no doubt I
can thank ye for that--but as I've cut off all communication to the outside,
and as cellular devices are strictly prohibited in Houses of Parliament, as
per the Communications Act of 2004, after that unfortunate incident with Lord
Breckenridge's mistress, there is no way to alert the Lords or get them to
evacuate until it is far too late. Thanks to ye and Trevor, most of the Brits
are too busy guarding the puppet king on the other side of the city to get
here in time," she chuckled. "So, it's just ye and I, lassie, and, since me
and the rest of me people have been inoculated against the effects of the gas,
ye're the only one who has to worry about being in here when it begins to fill
this building."

Jessica tried not to let the panic she felt inside her show on her face as she
silently willed Lupe and Trevor clear of the building.

"You've thought of everything, it would seem," the redhead said wistfully.
"Everything except me!"

She suddenly turned and bolted up the stairs, toward the Lord's Chamber, but
got no more than a few steps before Kyla had raced after her and snatched her
by the ankle, yanking her off her feet and sending the redhead's jaw crashing
against the carpeted, but hard, stairs.

"I canna have ye spoiling their last debate, Jessica," the brunette scolded,
dragging her back down the stairs by one leg. When Kyla was again standing on
the floor of the lobby, she reared back and kicked the redhead hard in the
groin. "Besides, we've got our own little debate to settle."

Still holding onto Jessi's ankle, the terrorist twisted it brutally, causing
the redhead to reluctantly flip over onto her back. Kyla then stomped down
hard on the American's stomach, the stiletto heel of her shoe painfully
gouging into her flesh. When she raised her foot to again drive the heel into
Jessi's belly, the redhead suddenly kicked out with her free leg, catching
Kyla in the crotch and causing the terrorist to release her other leg.

Jessica jumped up and leveled a punch at her head, but the brunette raised her
arm and blocked the intended blow, sending her own fist crashing into the
redhead's jaw. Staggered, Jessica was wide open for a follow-up blow to her
chest, delivered with gleeful savagery. Kyla then launched a powerful series
of rights and lefts at Jessi's gut and groin, causing the American to double
over in pain, leaving herself in a position for the terrorist's knee to come
slamming upward and into her chin.

Jessica fell to her back, blood trickling from between her puffy lips.

Part of the problem, she knew, was those damn transmitters, and the effect
they were having on her, but, she was forced to concede, a bigger part of the
problem was that Kyla was one of the best fighters she had ever faced, and she
was getting her lovely ass kicked.

Kyla, laughing cruelly to herself, walked over and, grabbing a handful of
Jessica's red hair, hauled her to her feet, only to then place her hands on
her shoulders and fall backwards, placing her right foot in Jessi's gut and
flipping the redhead over her head onto her back. The American gasped as her
back struck the hard floor and her whole body shuddered as pain exploded along
her spine.

Kyla stood up and then walked over, raising her heeled foot over Jessica's
exposed throat.

"Time to die, Jessica," she smiled. "I canna have ye here when they come down
in a few minutes for lunch, now can I?"

As the heel sped toward her neck, Jessi's hands suddenly shot up and grabbed
it, and, pushing upwards with all of her might, sent Kyla crashing to the
floor on her back.

Jessi quickly jumped up and then threw herself across the prone woman, further
driving the air from her body. Still lying lengthwise across Kyla, Jessi
reached over and grabbed an handful of her dark hair and then banged her head
sharply on the floor several times. But Kyla managed to slip one arm between
Jessica's legs and lift the redhead up and off of her, flipping Jessi over
onto her back in the process.

But, as Kyla stood up the American sprang to her feet and leaped up, kicking
her full in the face and sending her stumbling backwards. Jessi pursued her
off-balance foe, snapping her head back and forth with a dizzying combination
of rights and lefts to her face, until the terrorist stopped even trying to
defend herself.

As she stood before her, on legs which seemed to be made of jelly, Kyla
suddenly smiled.

Jessica paused in her kick, puzzled by the expression. Then, she suddenly
realized that Kyla's eyes weren't looking at her, but behind her. Before she
could turn around to see what the terrorist was so happy about, pain shot
through the back of her head, filling her mind with brilliant fireworks, and
she was knocked past Kyla and sent crashing into the wall behind her.

* * * * *

Lupe, concerned that Trevor was going to bleed to death if he didn't soon
receive some medical attention, gently lifted him up and carried him outside,
intending to drive him to the nearest hospital. She stopped short, however,
when she saw that the BMW was in even worse shape than before. In particular,
the driver's window was broken and the lid of the trunk looked as if it had
been been nearly wrenched off. Getting closer, she saw the crowbar lying on
the pavement next to the car and a cold feeling went through her body.

Then, Trevor groaned in her arms and she said a silent prayer for Jessica's
safety as she carefully laid him in the back seat and then, after brushing
away the glass, slid behind the wheel and started the motor. At least the
engine was in good condition, she said to herself as she put the battered car
in gear and drove off.

* * * * *

Jessica groaned, rubbing the back of her head and feeling something warm and
sticky, and then looked back and saw Kyna grinning mockingly at her, a heavy
chain coiled around her right hand.

"No damn Brit car can hold me, Jessica!" she exclaimed proudly as she walked
over and slammed the chain-wrapped hand into the redhead's back. "It's over,
Jessica!" Another punishing blow to her kidneys. "In a few minutes, the gas
will be released and within moments everyone in this building, except for my
sister, myself, and our fellow patriots, will be dead. Including, I'm afraid,
yerself." The weighted fist struck again, causing Jessi to bite her lower lip
to keep from crying out.

"But, afore ye die, I want to know how ye figured out that our target was the
House of Lords, instead of the King," Kyla demanded.

"Nobody besides ourselves knew the true target until this morning. We even
arranged for an identical ice sculpture--Minus the toxic interior--to be at
the dedication ceremony, just in case," Kyna added, landing another hard shot
to Jessica's battered side.

"It was the quote by Gladstone in your planner," Jessica gasped, struggling to
stay on her feet, even though her legs felt like mush. "'All the world over, I
will back the masses against the classes.' That and the fact that this is the
126th anniversary of that speech pretty much gave the game away."

"Very clever, Jessica," nodded Kyla. "Too bad the information came too late to
save the Lords, or yerself."

Kyla stepped up and buried her chain-wrapped fist deep into the redhead's gut,
driving out what little wind remained in her body, and laughed as Jessica slid
down the wall, her legs unwilling to continue to hold her upright.

Groaning in agony, Jessi glanced upward, as if in prayer, and noticed
something just above her on the wall.

"Give it up, Jessica!" taunted Kyna as the American struggled to rise. "Ya've
lost."

"Not yet!" the redhead countered, her fingers closing around the handle of the
fire alarm and pulling down.

A sudden whoop-whoop-whooping filled the building...almost, but not quite,
drowning out the shocked wails of the two terrorists.

Then, all three combatants watched as countless men and women rushed down the
stairs and out of the building, not even noticing the battered and bloody
women, until the three were alone once more.

As Kyla and Kyna stood staring at the door, their mouths open in abject
horror, Jessica, now that the disorienting effect of the transmitters was
gone, stood up and walked over and then tapped Kyna on the shoulder.

Without thinking, she turned around and was met by Jessica's fist as it
connected with her jaw, knocking her to her back. When Kyla turned at the
sudden noise, she was likewise knocked to her back. Jessi walked over and
yanked the chain free from Kyna's unresisting hand and then dropped a loop
around each of the sister's necks and pulled the chain tautly against their
throats. Jessica then jerked them roughly to their feet and slammed their
faces into the wall. She then held tightly to both ends of the chain and
placed one foot on Kyla's back and the other on Kyna's and straightened her
legs, standing upright and nearly strangling the sisters before she hopped
down.

Both women collapsed at her feet.

The American then glanced over at the sculpture of Justice and saw that red
smoke had started to issue from it. She raced from the building, dragging the
unconscious terrorists behind her, and joined the Lords in the parking lot.

"Odd sort of smoke for a fire, what?" inquired one man, trying not to stare at
the twins lying at Jessica's feet and indicating the red smoke which was
billowing out of the doorway.

"It's been that kind of day," Jessica replied, bending down and securing the
twin terrorists' arms behind their backs with the chain. She then sat down on
top of them and waited for the fire engines to arrive, wondering in the back
of her mind what had happened to Lupe, Trevor, and the BMW.

* * * * *

Jessica looked up from her hospital bed and grinned broadly as Kendra entered
the room and sat down next to her, wrapping her arms around her and hugging
her tightly.

"Whoa!" winced Jessi, gasping as she laid back down. "I hear that it's not
necessarily a good thing to hug someone with a half-dozen broken ribs. Ow."

"Sorry, Angel," Kendra apologized, pushing her wire-frame glasses up her nose
with a slender finger. "I'm just so excited to see you're all right!"

"You're excited to see that I'm...You do remember that you're the one who
nearly died from the twins so-called Justice Gas, don't you?" Jessi questioned
with a wide smile. "If anyone is excited here, it's me!"

"Glad to hear that, Jessica," smiled Lupe, walking into the room, her arm
around the waist of Myrna.

"Me, too," added the former terrorist.

"And Trevor?" Jessi asked.

"He's being forced to recover out in one of our special resorts in the
country," Kendra explained with a laugh. "The place has better security than
most prisons, but is also staffed by teams of expert physicians and some of
the most beautiful women in the world."

"Say, I might need to spend some time out there myself," Jessica said with a
wink.

"Oh, no, you don't, Miss Chance," said Admiral Farthingdale, entering the
somewhat crowded room. "I've arranged for Lieutenant Willowgate to personally
oversee your convalescence, until you're fit enough to receive the personal
thanks of His Majesty and are presented with the Distinguished Service Medal
by Lord Admiral Primrose before the entire parliament. You have the grateful
thanks of the entire British nation, young lady. We're going to take very good
care of you."

Jessica blushed at all the attention, wondering how the General would take the
news.

* * * * *

General Armitage Winsome flipped open his cellular phone and stabbed at the
SEND button.

"Winsome, here," he growled as his limousine weaved through the DC evening
traffic.

"Is this how ye repay my generosity, Winsome?" hissed a voice.

"Who in blue blazes is this?" the General demanded, raising the screen between
himself and his driver.

"Oh, surely ye havna forgotten yer old friend so quickly, have ye?" the voice
purred. "It's only been a bit over ten years since we last saw each other,
Armitage."

"Egan. Egan McMasters," Winsome sighed, nodding.

"See, I knew ye hadna forgotten me."

"What do you want, Egan?"

"I want to know why the man who I helped to--"

"I know what you did for me, Egan," the General interrupted, knowing that he
was on a secure line, but too cagey to take any unnecessary risks. "What do
you want?"

"Ye always were an impatient sod, Armitage," chuckled the voice. "Very well.
The long and the short of it is that me daughters are in a British prison,
thanks to one of yer agents. Now, I ask ye, is that any way to repay an old
friend's kindness?"

"Be grateful that they're alive, Egan. If the British had caught up to them
first..." Winsome reminded him.

"No, Armitage, it is ye who should be grateful that they're alive, for if they
had been killed by yer agent, nothing would have prevented me from telling the
whole bloody world how I helped train yer private army of terrorists," Egan
snarled too quickly for the General to prevent him.

Winsome sighed heavily. "I can't get them out of a British prison, Egan--"

"Oh, dinna ya worry about that, I'll get me babies out," the voice assured
him.

"--but I can get to them, if you know what I mean," the General finished
menacingly.

"If anything happens to them, Armitage, yer sorry little agency will come
crashing down around yer ears, and ye will be shot for treason," Egan promised
him. "They still shoot traitors in yer barbaric country, don't they,
Armitage?"

"Enough with the threats, Egan," said Winsome wearily. "What is it that you
want?"

"I want that interfering bitch's head on a pike, Armitage. Ye owe me that
much."

"I'll do what I can, Egan," replied Winsome, closing his phone.

The End

(For now)

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