Stay Away from Brazil

Four spies find something interesting in the Amazon Rainforest

By Mongoose750 (mongoose750@yahoo.com)

In the cool of the day, the four DOOM (Dominion of Organized Mayhem) agents, three men and one woman, forged their way through the Brazilian forest. Both spy organizations DOOM and COIL (Counter Operations Intelligence League) in their quest for world supremacy had both seen the South American country as a major stronghold. The country however, was not interested, so they said to both representatives in no uncertain terms to "go play their spy games somewhere else." COIL diplomatically agreed; DOOM however was not willing to take no for an answer. In fact they retaliated by attempting to assassinate key public officials and establish a headquarters covertly.

Neither plan had met with very much success. The assassination attempts were foiled and every time a headquarters was formed, it would end up destroyed soon after. The biggest casualty dealt to DOOM was the loss of their agents. The bodies of many agents, men and women were left lying either at the spot they attempted their assignments or in the offices or hallways of their constructed headquarters.

Finally enough intelligence has been gathered by DOOM to discover that the source of the problem was from Brazil's own intelligence agency, not from their rival organization COIL, as many had thought. More good news had arrived when they found the location of their headquarters. According to an anonymous source, the facility was located somewhere near the edge of the Amazon Rainforest. In response, DOOM sent one of their best teams of agents. They had spent two months in the country, assimilating with the atmosphere and the nightlife. One of them even took the time to develop a romantic relationship with one of the townspeople.

This team consisted of Larry Tackett, the 6'8" strongman of the group, sometimes called the "blonde haired, blue eyed giant" because of his looks. Many of DOOM's women agents have tried to sign up on missions with him. His best friend, John Armstrong, was 6'6", with brown hair that was more of the style of an 1980's rock star with it tied in a pony tail that hung to the middle of his back. Despite DOOM's policy that their operatives should be more clean cut, John's successes on the field, particularly undercover work, had helped him become the exception. Besides, with the general assumption of covert agents required to look and act like James Bond, almost no one would accuse John of being one of them, thus aiding his mission objectives.

Sandy Murphy was 5'6", with long brown hair. Like women agents with Larry, many of DOOM's male agents have "dreamed of Sandy with the light brown hair" as a mission partner. For that matter, so had many men who weren't agents. Like John, her looks were a valuable asset in completing many successful missions.

Randall Higgins was 6'3", the computer/communications expert, and owner of the title "Mr. Practical" by his teammates and DOOM in general. He earned that title not just for gadgets that he carried on his person, but also the uncommon things that you would least expect an agent to carry on his person. For example, although he received the same amount of training in hand-to-hand combat and skilled in the use of weapons like all DOOM agents, Randall carried a can of pepper mace with him, especially when he went on more exotic missions. His team had thought that was unnecessary until one day they ran into a trap that contained boa constrictors and pythons. Each one of the team was caught unawares and wrapped up in their own individual sources of death. Randall wasn't able to get to his gun or machete, but he grabbed his can of mace and let the snake have in its face. No matter what creature exists, the eyes are always a sensitive spot, and Randall's python was no exception. Eyes burning, the snake loosened its grip, and Randall got his arm free enough to reach his revolver and blow its head off. He used the mace on the other snakes with the same result. His team owed Randall their lives, and no one made fun of what he carried with him anymore.

All four were wearing the appropriate battle garb for the mission; dark olive drab khaki trousers, off-white lightweight khaki long-sleeve shirts, and with the exception of Sandy, olive drab combat boots. All four were wearing large fanny packs, except for Randall who had a backpack that toted portable electronic equipment and a lightweight laptop computer. Sandy, who at times could be an insufferable fashion diva, wore black boots with three-inch heels. The guys have jokingly called them her "Wonder Woman" boots, because they looked like something the comic book super heroine wore in the 1960's and 70's, and they served no practical purpose but to make the wearer look good. A little more than useless when the only beings who'll see your fashion statement are your disgruntled fellow agents, enemy agents with other things on their mind besides fashion, and wild monkeys. The three men had stopped arguing with Sandy on the issue a long time ago. She was a good agent, and even the best agents in the organization had their quirks.

They decided to go on this adventure in broad daylight; the dense forest and vegetation would be more difficult to go through at night, and there would be more confrontations with the local wildlife. Fortunately, their source told them that the facility was on the edge of the rainforest, with only a slight ring of forestry around it. After they trudged forward a quarter of a mile through the forest, they found it.

"That's it?" Larry said. "Aren't we supposed to cross rivers, wrestle with crocodiles, swim through quicksand, and all that stuff before we get here?"

"Maybe these people haven't seen those movies," Randall replied. "We haven't gone through the forest long enough to work up a good sweat."

"Yeah, Sandy hasn't even had a chance to get her precious boots all muddy," John said.

"I was looking forward to some bird mistaking your ponytail for a worm and snatch you bald-headed," Sandy sniped back at John.

"At least this part of our job is easy," Larry said. "Well, first things first. Randall, could you contact headquarters on your satellite phone and tell headquarters we're here? This should make them happy."

Randall reached into his backpack and pulled out his phone. "I hope it makes them happy. Our mission chief has been on the warpath since he's heard we're losing agents. I haven't seen him this angry since that COIL agent spoiled one of his biggest plans. What's her name? Claire something, Boxer?" He said.

"Baxter," Sandy corrected.

"Right, thanks. Anyway, he hasn't been this mad in a long time."

"Let's brighten up his spirits, make the call," John said.

Randall dialed the number. "That's funny, I can't seem to get through; it's like there's interference on the line. All I can hear is static," he said.

"How can that be? It's a satellite phone, there shouldn't be any static," Larry replied.

"You can hear for yourself." Randall held up his phone to his crew, where everybody heard the loud static coming through the receiver.

"Did you put fresh batteries in the phone?" Sandy asked.

"Put some fresh ones in this morning, you all saw me do it. Let me install an extra set and see what happens."

Randall pulled an extra set of batteries out of his backpack that he placed in the phone. However, before he dialed DOOM headquarters, he was greeted by the same loud static as before.

"I used the phone this morning," Larry said, "so I know it works. What could be wrong for the phone to act this way?"

"Well barring out sunspots, a cheap phone or somebody blowing up the satellite, I'm willing to guess that the inference to our phone is coming from there," Sandy said, pointing to the building in front of them.

Randall placed the phone back in his backpack and faced the crew. "That would probably explain why our spy satellites didn't pick this up. So what now?"

"I say we go in there, take out what's interfering with our satphone, take out who's killing our fellow agents, gather their intel, burn the place down in flames and go home," John said.

"And they call me "Mr. Practical,'" Randall said.

"You can't argue with a plan like that," Larry agreed, "let's go."

"You might be able to return back in time to play kissy-face with your woman, Randall," John joked.

"Oh, you're just jealous because I have one and you don't."

"I can have a different one every night of the week if I wanted."

"Sure."

"Men," Sandy sighed out loud. "So Randall, are you two getting serious?"

"It seems to look that way. She's a sweet woman. If we grow any closer, I guess it'll be time for "the talk.'"

"The talk" is that next course of action that's dreaded by secret agents everywhere, but usually necessary. The higher the agent's clearance, the more difficult it is. Because of the course of work an agent, DOOM, COIL, or otherwise takes, it doesn't lend itself well to romantic relationships outside of the one-night stands or non-committed dating that many pursue. The Talk is where an agent has to explain what he or she really does for a living as much as their cover will allow. Like other agencies, marriages do not last too well between an agent and a civilian, though there are exceptions. The best relationships seem to be between agent and agent, because both know the nature of what they do. Then the question of children comes up, and things become complicated again. Randall's cover for this assignment was a software representative for a company from the states who was thinking of expanding their operations overseas. As ragged as some of the missions are, it would become harder to explain the cause was because of rough business negotiations.

"Tell you what, Randall," Larry said. "Let's get this mission out of the way, and then we'll talk about you giving the talk to - it's Ming Shi, right?"

"Yeah," Randall replied.

"Yeah, we'll talk about that. Going on missions are hard enough by themselves without having to figure out how to handle your next one with your girlfriend. She's a nice girl, by the way."

"Thank you."

"I think we need to go in on that side," John said, pointing to one of the building's wings.

The four sneaked over to the complex, which was about as large as an administration building of a major college. They prepared to take out any guards who may be on watch, then discovered that there were no guards patrolling the area. Weirder still, there was no one in the building at all. The crew was perplexed.

"This country starts up an organization of their own, and already they're hit by budget cuts," Randall said as they walked down one of the halls of the building.

"This smells like a setup, but it doesn't make any sense. We should've been attacked, shot at, or something by now. Even the video cameras are off. Options, folks?" Larry said.

"I say we stick to that one part of John's suggestion and find their control center and gather their intelligence. We can then go back to the hotel, call headquarters and find out if they want to blow it up or not," Randall said. "Maybe we can take the place for our own."

"Sounds good, we just need to know where to go."

"Let me lead, I can sniff out a computer a mile away."

Sandy looked around as they went down the hallways. "I'd never thought I'd say this, but us going to this building in the forest, that has no guards, no workers, no people around at all, yet we can't send a call off to anybody, it seems kind of, of-"

"Spooky?" John suggested.

"Yeah. Hey, I'm not suggesting the place is haunted or anything like that."

"That's good," Larry said, laughing. "We have enough problems with live agents; I don't want to tangle with those aren't going to the grave willingly. You're right though, it is a little strange."

Something crinkled under Larry's boot. The group nearly jumped at the loudness of the noise in the empty hall. John reached down and picked it up.

"Huh, it's a candy wrapper," John said.

"Ah-hah!" Randall said.

"Ah-hah?" Sandy asked.

"From what little I know about the supernatural, last I checked, ghosts don't eat. So if we found a wrapper . . ."

"Then this place is inhabited after all. That still doesn't answer the question of where they are."

"I don't know the question to that one Sandy, but I can answer the question of where their intelligence center is."

Randall opened the door to a large room with several computers. In the center of the room was a computer with a large screen. The group could hear from the hum of the machinery that the place was fully operational.

"Finally, something that makes sense! Randall, go over to that computer and work your special mojo over it. Maybe we'll find something worth our trouble," John said.

Randall looked over the main computer and large screen. "John, it doesn't look like I need to work any magic over anything. This computer isn't shut down, it's only in sleep mode," he said. "Let's wake it up."

He nudged the mouse, and in seconds the computer came back to life, and an interesting display appeared on the screen. It was a computer simulation of the world with red and green dots placed over most of the countries, Brazil being the exception with no dots at all. Larry looked down at the explanation.

"Green dots are COIL headquarters, and the red dots are DOOM headquarters located throughout the world," Larry said. "There are even some DOOM locations I don't know about."

"At last, we can track down all of COIL's snares and destroy them, a dream come true," Sandy said. "Are you downloading this, Randall?"

As Sandy turned to Randall, she saw that he already had his laptop computer out, wired up, and was already proceeding to save the information.

"Done," Randall said. "Now let's see what this next page is."

He clicked the mouse, and saw a list of names. Upon closer inspection, he saw this was a list of DOOM agents who have been killed or missing. There was another column beside it that held a smaller list of agents. The crew realized from reading the legend that the larger column was a list of agents killed, while the smaller column was a list of agents who surrendered, the majority of them being women.

"All these agents, some of them were our best ones," Sandy said.

"Not just the standard agents, some of our specialty agents too. Look, there's a few Silkworms who were killed as well," Larry said.

"The Silkworms? I didn't think anybody could touch them. Those old ladies are fierce. What about Poison Geishas? Are some of them up there?" John asked.

"Yup, some of them too," Randall said.

"That does it. Guys, we're not leaving here until we find out who knows all of our strongholds and killing our agents. I demand to have some answers!" Larry exclaimed.

Suddenly they heard the sound of two hands clapping in mild applause.

For the second time that day, the four agents turned around in surprise. They saw a 6'0" woman with long blonde hair tied behind her in a ponytail. She appeared to be in her late 30's, maybe early 40's. Her build was slim, but rather muscular. She wore a black shirt that was similar to a policeman's uniform. She wore black uniform pants to match the outfit, however the legs were cut only mid-calf with elastic around the bottoms. The thing that topped off her uniform was her footwear, or rather the lack of it. She stood before them barefoot, further adding to the crew's curiosity.

"Very well done," the woman said in English with a Brazilian accent. "A good show of high drama, especially the "not leaving here until we find some answers' part. Very dramatic, indeed."

"Who are you?" Larry demanded.

"Fellow DOOM agents, my name is Bliss."

"Bliss? What kind of code name is that?" Sandy said.

"Madam, Bliss is my name. My parents thought my birth was a happy occasion, so that's what they named me. You spy people and your use of code names. It's a wonder you remember what your real names are."

"It looks like someone forgot part of their outfit," Sandy continued, looking at Bliss's feet.

"No, I don't wear any. Shoes are overrated anyway."

"You have information on all DOOM and COIL installations, and a list of all DOOM agents killed or missing in action," Larry said.

"Yes, I see you discovered the displays we left for you," Bliss said.

"We demand to know how you came about this information, and what happened to our agents!"

"Sir, you are not in a position to "demand' anything, but I will answer your questions. As we have leaked to you, we in Brazil have our own intelligence agency that covers our country and the rest of South America. Why? Because we do not like the way either you or COIL fight over the world while innocents pay the price. Our stance was firm; you and COIL can play your spy games with the rest of the world, but keep it out of our country. To their credit, COIL had done so. You, on the other hand, have not. Many of our public officials, not to mention possible innocent citizens were endangered by your schemes to gain a foothold here. Finally, we said no more, hence this organization was created."

"How did you find out our locations?" John said.

"Various ways, let me just put it that way," Bliss continued. "Gathering information is a complicated thing, you can't expect me to give you a quick answer to that anymore than you can yourself. Even I can't keep up with all of it, and I'm in charge here."

"In charge of what? I don't see anybody," Randall said.

"To give you a "warm welcome,' we sent everybody home. Well, almost everybody. Good job with the candy wrapper, by the way. Some of us were holding bets on if you would get the hint or not."

"Who killed our agents?" Larry demanded again.

"Why, we did. Or rather, my barefoot assassins," Bliss said.

"Barefoot assassins?" John said. "Lady, you can't be serious."

"Please, call me Bliss, and as you can see on the screen, I'm very serious."

The blonde woman walked over to the giant screen, gesturing to it as she spoke and continued. "In your two agencies' struggle for control, and especially your war against each other, both agencies have done their version of, shall we say an arms race in weapons; ranging from the biggest guns to the more esoteric, like poison lipstick for example. There's also poison pantyhose, and some other weapons that are literally too embarrassing to mention. When I helped form this agency, I had a theory, and it has been proven correct over and over. I can't speak for COIL, since they have respected our wishes, but for many of you DOOM agents, after you take away the big guns, knifes, poisons, and other weapons, you're not effective fighters at all."

"Perhaps you'd like to find out how "ineffective' I am," Larry growled.

Bliss waved her hands. "Please, let me finish. We here at Brazilians for an Independent Brazil, or BIB for short, take a more holistic approach to combat. We've found that the best weapon that you can use is yourself, your own body. It goes everywhere with you, it doesn't send off alarms in airports, it hardly ever leaves a trace of its handiwork, and you can always "upgrade,' improve it, make it better. In other words, my ladies, my barefoot assassins have killed your fellow agents with our bare hands and feet."

"You mean to tell me our agents have been seduced and killed by your "kung fu' warriors?" Randall said.

Bliss shook her head. "I never said "seduce,' we don't have time for that. They are assassins, trained to assassinate and to do it quickly. We have a few in our number who know kung fu, but I prefer to stick with the native martial arts that we have here in Brazil, Capoeria and Brazilian Jiu-jitsu. I must say, that out of the agents we've handled, the biggest challenges were the Silkworms and Poison Geishas. The Silkworms are very effective in their craft; one of my agents who encountered one wasn't sure at first whether the Silkworm wanted to try to kill her right away or sleep with her first. They are very flexible too, but even the most flexible back has a "breaking point.' Your Geishas are your best fighters regarding hand-to-hand, but they can be defeated."

"So you backwoods savages who don't even have sense enough to wear shoes are responsible for this?" Sandy snarled.

"Our base can not be detected by even your satellites overhead, because of our jamming devices, plus we've been invisible to your agency for a while now; hardly the work of "savages,'" Bliss said, looking at Sandy with disdain. "And without my shoes, I can detect when a vehicle is coming down a road, and by the vibrations I can tell whether it's a car or truck. I also have traction and maneuverability that your boots can't match. You don't even realize how ridiculous you look in those things out here in the forest. You're like that North American superhero, Wonder Woman, running around fighting in three-inch heels. I bet if you took those things off, you wouldn't know how to act in a fight."

Sandy advanced forward, fingernails extended to rip Bliss's eyes out, but Randall restrained her with an arm.

"As much as I would like to see Sandy rip your eyes out of your head, under the authority of DOOM, you are now under arrest for the murder of many of our agents. Maybe they'll have mercy on you after you tell them what you know," Randall said.

"On the contrary, sir, it is you who are under arrest. Please surrender or face the consequences. Believe me, we take no pleasure in your deaths, but we will kill you if we have to. You only know of our location because we told you, after you are gone, no one else will know. This is a one-time offer, I suggest you take it," Bliss said.

"I have heard enough!" John said as he reached for his revolver.

Behind the four, a black woman, about 5'7" with a leaner build and dressed the same as Bliss, padded toward them on her own bare soles. As soon as John pulled out his revolver, the woman executed a foot sweep that took the legs out from under him. John's revolver shot harmlessly at the ceiling. As he hit the floor, John lost his hold on his gun, where the black woman quickly kicked it under a nearby computer terminal.

"Allow me to introduce you to Catalina, one of my best assassins," Bliss said.

Randall ran to help assist John, while Larry prepared to face off with Bliss. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Sandy taking off her boots.

"Sandy," Larry cried, "what are you doing?"

"No Brazilian backwoods hillbilly is going to tell me I can't fight her on her terms," Sandy said as she pulled off her last sock. "I have a black belt in karate, I'll have no problem handling you, boots or no boots."

Bliss stood back and laughed. "Come on then, "Wonder Woman,' let's see what you can do," she said, gesturing her forward with her hand.

Larry stopped for a moment. He's seen Sandy fight before; she should take care of this woman in no time, he thought to himself. He stood back and watched.

Meantime, the other BIB agent spun on the ground in a move that resembled break dancing then used one of her feet to kick Randall's weapon out of his hand. John rose to his feet, but then Catalina tumbled over to where he was, and fired a right hand into John's lower left ribs. John's eye's widened as he suddenly felt two of his ribs break. Catalina finished this up with a front kick, her toes striking John underneath the shin. The DOOM agent went flying into a wall of computers and monitors, nearly knocking them over as he bounced off them to fall, face first on the floor. Not even looking behind her, she swung her foot behind her, catching Randall on the shin, staggering him.

With a yell, Sandy threw a number of quick punches and kicks, forcing Bliss to back up gradually. When it looked like Sandy was close enough to do any real damage, Bliss suddenly slammed her right open palm into her solar plexus. Sandy looked at Bliss with her eyes wide open as all the air was knocked out of her. As she stood there helpless, Bliss did a quick spin, and then performed a right side kick that struck Sandy directly in the face. The DOOM agent flew into a pile of chairs and laid still.

John got back to his feet again, a little slower because of the broken ribs, but he realized he lost track of his opponent as he looked around. Randall ran toward him, warning him, but he was too late as Catalina jumped on his back, her arm around his neck, and a leg scissors around his chest, the bare heels digging into his injured side. John reached up to pull the woman's arms free from her attempted choke. However he found out too late that the "choke' was actually something else entirely as she quickly grabbed the sides of John's head and jerked sharply to the right. The woman leaped off as John's lifeless body fell to the ground.

Larry didn't see his longtime comrade meet his end. After Bliss easily defeated Sandy, he charged the BIB agent with blood in his eyes. Unfortunately, he charged right into a hip throw performed by Bliss. Hanging on to the arm, she quickly placed her bare sole against Larry's throat and placed his right arm in an arm bar. Bliss jerked the arm of the choked agent, dislocating it. As Larry screamed from the pain, Bliss leaped and landed both knees on his chest, driving out his air and cracking a rib. She then leaned forward and fired her right palm into Larry's nose, breaking it, and driving the bone fragments into his brain, killing him instantly.

Randall, the last DOOM agent standing, just saw what happened to Larry and quickly accessed his situation. In the space of a couple of minutes if that long, these two women killed two of DOOM's best field agents and his longtime friends. He wasn't sure about Sandy, but he had to assume the worst happened to her as well. His own weapon was somewhere in the room, but there was no way these two enemy agents were going to let him reach it, even if he knew where it was. His comrades couldn't defeat these women one-on-one, so his chances of beating two of them looked rather bleak. He saw Bliss rise from Larry's corpse, walking slowly towards him. The immediate threat, Catalina, who appeared to be trained in Capoeria (Randall remembered what it was now, he saw it performed at some local festival), was advancing on him rather quickly. He wanted to avenge his fallen friends, but he realized he could do that better alive, so he decided to exercise his best option, which was to escape. But to do it, he had to do it just right.

As Catalina leapt toward him, Randall whipped out his can of pepper mace and sprayed it in his face. The woman screamed in agony, pawing at her face. Randall glanced at Bliss's location, which was still not far from Larry's body, but a good distance away from him, and grabbing his backpack, took off running through the door and down the hall. If he played his gamble correctly, the facility would still be empty, and by the time Bliss called the other agents from their hiding places, it would be too late to catch him.

With a speed he didn't know he had, Randall ran from the facility, tore back through the short length of forest, and to the sport utility vehicle that was waiting for him at the forest's opening. Without a second look, he started the vehicle and drove off. He patted the backpack next to him in the passenger seat. It contained the information he managed to download from BIB's computers. At least he didn't leave totally empty-handed, he thought, but the cost was much too high.

Back at the control center, Bliss helped her fellow agent to her feet, taking some bottled water and rinsing the mace from her eyes. When she could see again, the agent's eyes were still red, this time from the anger of letting Randall get away than from the pepper mace.

"I'm sorry I let him get away, Bliss," the agent said.

"It is nothing to worry about, Catalina," Bliss replied, "We have someone waiting for him. We were told that he was very resourceful. It's a pity, we could've used him."

Catalina nodded and pointed toward the slumped form lying among the scattered chairs. "What about her?"

"Oh we'll give her the usual choice; to join us or to rot in prison or be executed, depending on what she did. Since all she had done was insult us and threaten to kill me over her silly boots, it shouldn't be too severe an imprisonment for her if she declines our offer. I'm actually amazed at the number of female DOOM agents who had decided to join our cause."

"It's pretty simple, give up your loyalty to DOOM and go into massive training to become a barefoot assassin. They don't even need to give up all of their former agencies' secrets either, because we don't care what they do with the rest of the world," Catalina laughed.

"Just as long as they stay away from us," Bliss finished for her.

"Should I go ahead and call our skeleton crew out of hiding?"

"Yes Catalina, please do that. It's kind of spooky around here with the whole place empty."

It seemed like an eternity before Randall arrived back to his apartment. After he ran through the forest to the waiting SUV and drove away like the proverbial bat out of Hades, he did the customary procedures DOOM had trained him to do to avoid being followed, and to lose the trailing party in case he was. But that was the funny thing; it didn't look like anybody even bothered to follow him home.

That was one of several questions that ran through his mind. The first one was what was he going to tell DOOM? The very mention of sending a team of four of their top agents, only to end up with three of them killed or mortally wounded by two women using only their bare hands and feet may be a bit hard to swallow. On the upside, he had vital news to give them regarding Brazil's covert group of "barefoot assassins," and how they were the ones responsible for killing so many of DOOM's agents.

This tragic day was full of ironies. All of his team had trained and were very proficient in armed and unarmed combat; yet Bliss and Catalina took them apart like beginners instead of the veterans they claimed to be. The most tragic irony was the one that may have saved Randall's life. The can of pepper mace that he brought along to deal with any wild creatures was the very thing that prevented Catalina from delivering that killing blow and to escape. He thought about how John used to rag him on bringing items like that on past missions, and then that thought was overshadowed by the image of Catalina breaking his neck with no effort at all.

You will be avenged old friend, Randall thought; all of you will be avenged.

As he arrived at the top floor apartment that had become his home for the past two months, Randall coveted the idea of taking a hot shower and a long nap, but time was of the essence. What he needed to do was pack and book a flight to DOOM headquarters as soon as possible. For all he knew, Bliss could have sent a fleet of barefoot assassins to hunt him down at this very moment.

He walked up the stairs of the apartment building, making sure to give the usual greetings to the neighbors as he walked by like nothing was wrong. Prior to the mission, he had his rent paid several months in advance, so when he disappeared, at least he won't have an angry landlord after him.

As he finally reached his apartment, he noticed the door was closed, but it wasn't locked, and there was soft jazz music playing from within. He reached for his revolver, only to remember that he lost it in the control room of BIB's headquarters. He pulled out a spare can of mace and slowly twisted the doorknob. He mentally kicked himself as he remembered that he handed an extra key to his girlfriend. Any spy or burglar would have the good sense not to play the stereo while they ransacked the apartment. Laughing to himself about his paranoia, he slowly put his mace away and walked to the living room where his girlfriend would be waiting.

Randall smiled as he saw her. She was Ming Shi, a reporter for the Chinese newspaper in Brazil. She was 5'9," rather tall for someone of standard Chinese ancestry, with short black hair that hung down to her eyebrows in front, and just past her ears in the back. She wore a blue sleeveless mock turtleneck and a short navy blue skirt with sheer white pantyhose. She was reclining on the sofa; her blue patent leather pumps were kicked off, exposing the blue toenail polish that contrasted with the white nylon.

He took a moment to gaze at his woman, her muscular arms and legs toned from playing a numerous amount of volleyball and rowing in college. She still performed a fair amount of both sports to maintain her shape.

"Baby, are you all right? You look terrible," Ming said, sounding concerned.

"Rough day," Randall said. He was going to hate leaving Ming Shi behind, but he needed to leave. He'd love to take her with him, but that would lead to her asking too many questions about what he really did for a living. Software representatives like what he was posing as don't generally lead lives as exciting as he did. He'll have to find a way to send her away so he could pack and go. If things got real desperate, he'd have to eliminate her, but that's a measure that was only necessary as a last resort. All he'll need to do was give her a proper excuse and disappear before she came back. Not a proper way of saying goodbye, but there was no time for sentimental farewells.

"As a matter of fact, I have to hurry up and pack for a business trip over in the states. Something came up, and they want me there pronto," he said.

"Do you have time for a backrub? You look like you could use one," Ming Shi asked. "Just sit here on the floor in front of me. I'll give you a quick one, then I'll leave, I promise."

Randall was about to refuse, but then figured that it would be the best way to get rid of her without incident, and being the only one of his party to make it out alive, he could use a back rub to get the tenseness out of his muscles. He sat on the floor, leaning back against Ming Shi's white nylon legs, and relaxed as her strong hands massaged the muscles on his back.

"I'm sorry you have to go, Randall," Ming Shi cooed.

"Yeah, me too," Randall said.

"I'm also sorry you're not coming back."

"What?"

Ming Shi's arms suddenly looped around Randall's neck, jerking him up, and forming a judo choke, pressing on his cardioid's artery. She followed this up by wrapping her legs around Randall's chest in a leg scissors. The sudden vise left him gasping for breath.

"You, you're one of them," Randall wheezed.

"Yes I am," Ming Shi said. "You really should've surrendered; that way I would have been a fond memory instead of your executioner."

While fighting for a way to break Ming Shi's python-like hold, a part of him was surprised at his girlfriend's strength. What he didn't know was that while she participated in volleyball and rowing to stay in shape, she also engaged in intensive weight training. Then again, as a barefoot assassin, going through such a rigorous program was expected.

Randall noticed Ming Shi let up slightly on her chokehold. However, before he could reach up to try to unlock her arms, she suddenly jerked his head over to the side and gave a steady growl. He found himself losing breath now from the pressure of the scissors. Then Ming Shi jerked his head to the other side while growling even louder. Suddenly he felt it; a rib cracked and broke in his chest followed by another. The chokehold tightened once more.

"Ming Shi, please," Randall pleaded.

"Good bye, Randall," Ming Shi said softly.

From the internal bleeding, Randall started coughing up blood. Ming Shi tilted his head to the floor to let it out, and then she tightened her holds once more.

When she finished, she laid Randall's body down gently. Then she looked herself over. She managed to avoid any possible bloodstains on her clothing. Next, she went through the apartment, looking for any documents, files, etc. In his bedroom she found a few zip discs, and some compact discs. She gathered all media, and placed it in the backpack where the laptop computer was. Seeing nothing else of importance, she walked back over to Randall's body. With a heavy sigh, she went through his pockets and his wallet for any vital information. It appeared the only other information about her organization he had was carried in his head going away from the facility, and that died with him. They made sure the intel the spies received was given to them too soon to report to headquarters; they wanted to stay anonymous a while longer. Of course, half the intel they leaked was false and the other half had no significance to anyone.

Finally, she picked up her purse and the backpack, and walked over to her blue pumps. Since the mission was for all intents and purposes unofficially over, she didn't need them anymore. As a barefoot assassin, the shunning of shoes wasn't just a mission prerogative it was a lifestyle. She thought about just leaving them there, but it would be a better idea not to leave any clues, so she picked them up, turned off the stereo, and carefully closing the door behind her, went down the stairs of the apartment building.

One of the neighbors, a young woman sweeping outside her apartment greeted her on the way down.

"Hi Ming. Hey, nice shoes!" The woman said.

"Hello Julie, thank you," Ming Shi said. "Would you like to have them?"

Julie's eyes lit up. "You're giving me your shoes?" She asked.

"Sure; it looks like we have the same shoe size, and I don't wear these shoes much anyway, so go ahead, try them on."

"Wow, thanks Ming!" Julie said.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Julie kick off her thongs and try on her new shoes. No one had seen her make her way to Randall's apartment, and Julie was the only witness who saw her leave. No matter, by the time anyone asks Julie any questions, Ming Shi will be long gone.

Ming Shi got to her car, threw her things in the passenger seat, and reclined her own seat back, placing her own stocking-clad feet on the dashboard. She pulled out her cell phone, hit a number that was speed dialed, and waited for a response, which was received after the first ring.

"Bliss here."

"Ming Shi here, boss. The mission has been completed."

"Has the target been neutralized?"

"Yes."

"What was the method of execution?"

"One of my patented python holds."

"Oh. Well, there's no doubt about it, he's dead then. Did you find anything of importance?"

"His backpack with his laptop and some CD's and zip disks. There might be something there."

"There was. Very good Ming Shi, an excellent job as always."

"Thank you. Boss, there's one more thing."

"What's that?"

"I don't want to do undercover work anymore," Ming Shi said, glancing towards Randall's apartment.

Bliss was stunned for a moment. "Why not, Ming Shi, you do excellent work."

"I'm not very comfortable with it. I liked it better out in the field."

Reading between the lines, Bliss said, "Okay, I'll tell you what; go ahead and drop off what you have with our techs, then come by my office and we'll talk about this. How's that?"

"That's fine."

"Then I'll see you in a bit. Bye-bye."

"Bye."

Propping the seat back to driving position, Ming Shi started her car, and with a final glance at Randall's apartment, drove off to go to headquarters.

Well at least Brazil is secure for another day, she thought to herself as she left.

Back at DOOM headquarters, when the mission head failed to receive any reports from the four agents he sent to Brazil, he concluded that the story about a Brazilian intelligence agency was false, and once again he sent his people into a trap laid by COIL. He vowed he would get to the bottom of this, and one day get his revenge.

For comments, suggestions, or ideas, sent email to shrewsberry@juno.com.