The Day After

The start of the war between the Poison Geisha/Silkworms, and DOOM.

by Mongoose750 (mongoose750@yahoo.com)

Prior to the declaration of war waged against the agents of DOOM, all Poison Geisha and Silkworms who were on current assignments with the spy organization were ordered to terminate their duties immediately and return to the nearest clan headquarters or cocoon to await further orders. Although all received the order to leave, some were delayed due to cases of distance and other complications, but they managed to go. However, there were a few who stayed behind long enough to take care of unfinished business.

-----

They say the news travels slow in Australia. Located at the "end of the world," it's sometimes said that by the time anything of any worldly significance makes its way to the "land down under," it's already old news.

Well Diane Sims was going to change all of that. She was going to put Australia on the map. The middle-aged 5'6" brunette was one of the DOOM department heads over that country. Using her connections with DOOM operatives posing as mayors, governors, and members of the senate, she was going to pull off what the cells in other countries were doing, except she was going to go one better. Her team weren't planning to kill any mere candidate running for an office, they were going to assassinate the Prime Minister. While the other DOOM cells had to work hard to get their people into a significant office, it was practically child's play to place one of their agents into the role of succeeding the Prime Minister upon his demise.

The plan was simple; just get rid of the Prime Minister, and all the power and responsibility will shift to their agent, and then DOOM can have a secure foothold in the lower part of the Pacific Ocean. Why, they even had their own scapegoat, a Poison Geisha to place the blame on once the act was complete.

On the day the Prime Minister was planning to make his speech before a crowd of farmers in an outside auditorium, Diane had her team in place from the top of a nearby building. The sniper had the Prime Minister's head in his sights.

They said the Prime Minister gave a wonderful speech, that was very well received. The whole audience heard all twenty minutes from start to finish. And upon the rooftop as a silent witness was Diane Sims and her team. Diane was facing the event, able to witness the whole event, eyes open, but yet unseeing.

For you see, Diane Sims was dead.

Her head lay on the stony ledge, eyes wide open, her neck broken by a sudden blow with the hand. The sniper himself was slumped down in his seat, a victim of a blow to the temple. The other five members of the team hadn't fared much better; one had a broken spine, another with a crushed pelvis, causing the victim to die from internal bleeding, and other fatal injuries.

Diane heard the announcement, as did all DOOM agents, but since the Geisha was still there, perhaps she wasn't aware, which was fine, because she was expendable after the mission was over.

Standing in the midst of bodies upon that roof was the Poison Geisha. Clad in a blue tank top leotard, she looked over her handiwork one more time before she picked up her red kimono and slid her bare feet back into her zori sandals. She heard the message well in advance of the call to war, but she wanted to stay behind long enough to say "thank you" to her former employers for attempting to frame her and for their disrespect.

As she slipped her kimono back on, she dialed her cell phone to a secure number.

"Transport, this is Zyi Zyi, and I request to be taken to the temple in Queensland," she said.

"Where are you now?" The operator said.

"I am in Sydney. I should be at the airport in twenty minutes."

"Zyi Zyi, the message was sent out days ago. Why are you leaving so late? Did something happen? Are you well?"

Zyi Zyi brushed a trace of dust off her kimono. "I am well. I just needed to "thank' my former employers for their "hospitality' to me and our clan."

"How was your gratitude received?" The operator said with a smirk.

The Poison Geisha looked around her one more time.

"Very well, honored sister."

The operator gave a small giggle, then said, "All right then, I know of a jet that touched down a few hours ago. When you get there, it'll be ready for you to go. Be well."

"Be well."

It would be two days later when a horrified office worker getting a breath of fresh air discovered the bodies. It would take even longer before DOOM found out their branch office in Sydney was eliminated.

For the news travels slowly in Australia after all.

-----

At a top secret DOOM facility in Colombo, Sri Lanka, two top level DOOM executives, Michael Morgan, and Chelsea Bailey, lie in the middle of the situation room in the throes of passion, but not with each other.

The two agents were lying on the floor on opposite sides of the room. Every five minutes, each one would receive a mind-numbing climax that would increase in intensity, pushing their hearts to the limit. Soon, all the stress will make their hearts explode. Michael and Chelsea, their suits already soiled from the previous onslaught, have fallen, because they were already too weak to walk, and their bodies were starting to quiver again as another climax was starting to begin.

In the middle of the room stood two Indian Silkworms dressed in black and purple saris made of silk that was so thin, in any type of lighting, they were virtually transparent, showing off every curve and muscle of their well-toned bodies. While they were wrapping their cloths back around themselves, one of the Silkworms with sadistic glee took her bare foot and stroked her toes alongside Michael's right leg, speeding up the process.

Looking at her reflection in the glass door of a cabinet, the other Silkworm said, "That was a very stupid thing your leader had done by betraying and endangering us, after all the years we've worked for you."

The first Silkworm rubbed Michael's chest with the ball of her foot, and said in a husky voice, "And now, you face our wrath."

"We are a minority in our clan, estranged from the others because of our methods," the second Silkworm said, satisfied that all her clothes were hanging in the right places, and walked over to check on her female victim who just screamed hoarsely from a recent climax.

"But they are still our sisters, we are still family," the first Silkworm said as she bent down and put her tongue in Michael's left ear, which sent him over the edge. "We decided to "drop by' to show our support."

"You, you, you won't get away with this," Chelsea panted with some difficulty.

The second Silkworm laughed at her victim. "Come now, we already have. Right now, your security guards are having the best time they probably ever had; the only difference is they'll live."

"When we ambushed you, you were no match for our charms," the first Silkworm said. "We overpowered you, then seduced you, raped you, actually. You melted like butter in our embrace." She stood up and considered giving Michael another nudge, but decided against it. "You can consider yourselves the lucky ones. Our other sisters are much more brutal."

The second Silkworm touched the other on the shoulder. "Come sister, let's leave these two to their fate. We have more pressing business."

The Silkworms padded out of the room, then disappeared like ghosts, as if they were never there. The two agents with eyes bulging, breath shallow, and heart racing, were shuddering as they reached another, and possibly their last climax.

-----

In Alexandria, Virginia, the top executive officers of another top secret DOOM facility were gathering for a meeting regarding the message from the Poison Geishas and the Silkworms, but an emergency message from one of their officers, Chris Evans, told them that several Poison Geisha and Silkworm warriors have attacked and destroyed the facility in Baltimore, and were on their way to their location. Chris suggested that they should meet instead at the situation room at one of their businesses that masqueraded as a bank during the day. He said he'll get there as soon as he could.

The three men and four women entered the room, a place located on the ground floor at the end of the hallway that was not listed in the standard building plans. The room had no windows, and the only furniture in it was a large conference table and eight chairs. Except for the files and folders that were being placed on the table, a plain centerpiece of elegantly made silk flowers was the lone decoration. There was only one doorway in, but there was a secret exit that led to a mini-subway to a safehouse. The DOOM operators sat quietly until one of the men spoke up.

"I just found out from one of the executive secretaries in our office in Sri Lanka," he said, "that the two head officers there have been killed."

"No other casualties?" One of the women asked.

"Well there's a bunch of security guards who seemed to be stoned out of their minds. They barely know their names, much less what just happened to them."

"How were the agents killed?" The second man asked.

"The initial diagnosis says heart failure, but from the available evidence, it looked like they-" the first man paused and looked closely at his laptop, like he saw something that didn't belong there.

"They what?" The second man repeated.

"They . . . orgasmed to death."

"They what?"

"Well, we know who was responsible for that," the first woman said.

"I'm tired of this! It hasn't even been twenty-four hours since they waged war on us, and already they wiped out a few of our facilities, and killed many of our best agents," the third man said, banging his fist on the table. "We need to take aggressive action."

"What would you suggest?" The second woman asked.

"For starters, we could have our agents go to Japan and kill all the geishas we see."

"That's absurd!" The first man said.

"Why? Not every woman in Japan is a geisha," the third man continued.

"And not every geisha is a Poison Geisha," the second woman said. "How do you propose we take care of the Silkworms, look for any woman wearing a sari and blow them away?"

"That might do for a start."

"I will not be a party to attempted genocide! And what about the good agents we have over there? Do you want to kill them too?"

The third woman raised her hand, indicating silence.

"These are dark days for us, but that does not mean we should do things half-cocked," she said. "The idea of killing those who look suspicious not only would be futile, it also would possibly bring our country into war with those countries. I don't know about you, but I would not want to have things complicated even further by another war with Japan, or risk a possible action with India. And we do have fine agents in those countries, so let's think of something more constructive, shall we?" She said.

"I'm sorry, just blowing off steam," the third man apologized.

"One of our problems is the homes of the Poison Geishas and Silkworms are two of the most populated countries on earth," the fourth woman began, "and that's what we know of. So far to our knowledge, the Poison Geisha remain in Japan, but we know Silkworms are spread throughout Southeast Asia. We only know of a few Poison Geisha and Silkworm temples. No doubt they already evacuated or fortified these places for our arrival."

"So what are you telling us?" The second man asked.

"That we're fighting an enemy who knows more about us than we do about them. While we hired them to do our dirty work, they gleaned as much information about us as we let them. And let's not forget that these are two of the most deadly groups of assassins in the world. Our Mafia wouldn't stand a chance against them. This is a war we're bound to lose unless we do one thing."

"What's that?" The third woman asked.

"Get help."

"Lesser officers than you have been shot for saying things like that," the second man said. "Where are we going to get this "help,' huh? Outside of us, only a few people know they exist. Were you thinking of asking COIL? It they knew about this, they'd be having a party."

The third woman raised her hand again, silencing the agent, then turned and nodded to the fourth woman.

"Even if COIL would help us, they would be as ineffective as us. We contract out to another organization who has no dealings with either Silkworms or Poison Geishas, and who are just as deadly."

"The Thai!" The first man said.

"Correct, but the name is inaccurate. They are in Thailand, India, the Phillippines, and other places," the fourth woman said.

"So what is their name?"

The fourth woman for the first time in the conversation had a blank look on her face.

"I do not know," she said.

"Then it's settled," the third woman said. "Send an email to our agent in the Phillippines who can contact them. He should know the need is urgent. Since Chris has not joined us, we must assume he's been killed or captured. So I'm suggesting a Code-"

And that's when the table piece exploded.

Not exploded with a destructive blast, but with a light pink cloud that floated to the ceiling, and drifted through the room. The effect was immediate as the agents fell to the floor or slumped at the table before they could raise a finger to do anything about it.

Outside the room stood Chris Evans, a 6'1" black man with a bald hair cut. He turned and faced two women, one of them dressed in the familiar kimono of a Poison Geisha, decked out in a red kimono with a gold tiger embroidered on it. The other woman was of Chinese descent, and dressed in flowing black silk robes and sheer black tights.

"And here are your DOOM officers, signed, sealed, and delivered," Chris said to the Silkworm and Poison Geisha.

"And here's your reward, as promised," the Poison Geisha said, handing Chris a black briefcase. "You can count it if you like."

"Nah, I'm sure it's good. I understand your clans are loyal to your employer, unlike some people," Chris said, nodding his head in the direction of the secret room. "How long does that gas last anyway?"

"Not long." The Geisha suddenly clapped her hands. Instantly, eight women, all dressed in long sleeve black leotards and footless tights, appeared and walked in single file to the door. Chris could easily recognize four of them as being Poison Geishas from the Japanese faces, and the long hair placed in buns held by wooden hairpins, but were the other four Silkworms? They differed in color, and - wait a minute, was that a black Silkworm? If so, they're much more integrated than DOOM was. Chris had to struggle to get to his present spot, and he still encountered some racism every now and then.

A Poison Geisha tried the door and said it was locked. Before Chris could reach his key, a Silkworm who looked like she came from Mongolia, took her bare foot and kicked the door open. All eight women walked in swiftly.

Chris made a major effort not to keep gazing on the muscular legs of the ladies. He inwardly hoped that he could be in at least half the shape these Silkworms were when he reached their age.

"The knockout gas is designed to disperse in thirty seconds, but it's designed to knock out their victims in the first ten seconds. Nice and convenient," the Poison Geisha said.

Chris watched the seven ladies emerge from the room, each carrying an agent over their shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

"You ladies know how to diversify, don't you?" He asked as he saw the eighth lady, a Poison Geisha, gather all the necessary files and accessories, and place them into a large overnight bag before walking out herself.

"Yes, we have Silkworms and Poison Geishas for all types of things," the lead Silkworm said. "The people in DOOM have only seen a small aspect of who we really are."

"Well I'm sorry I couldn't get the head man or woman, but I can try to get some more of these executive officers for you. Maybe one of them will have the information you need."

"That will be just fine, Evans-san," the Poison Geisha said with a slight bow and a stifled giggle.

"What's so funny?"

"I don't think in any of our long history, we've done business with a COIL agent before."

"There's always a first time, and from what I see, it's the beginning of a beautiful relationship."

The head Silkworm stepped over to Chris and said, "Mr. Evans, after we're through here, would you like to join me for a cup of tea?"

"Uh, yeah, sure, that sounds nice," Chris said, taken off guard.

"Very well, I will go and prepare. Kiku will bring you after she's finished here," the Silkworm said as she turned to go.

After regaining his composure, Chris turned to Kiku. "What's going on? I thought our business was done here," he said.

Kiku smiled. "I believe she likes you, Mr. Evans."

"What?"

"You haven't noticed from the way she looked at you? She is a Silkworm, but she's also a woman after all. I would suggest you take her offer."

"Why? What if I don't?"

"Well you'll won't know what you're missing."

"But she's-"

"Old? She's only forty-three. There's not many of your American thirty-year-olds who look as good as she does, or as good as Doo-Ri, who's fifty-six for that matter."

"Fifty-six, the one who carried that big guy is fifty-six?"

Kiku touched Chris on the shoulder. "Come, we're through here. Our day is over, but yours had just begun. Oh, she serves the best Oolong tea too. One sip, and you're in Nirvana. . ."

And so Chris Evans, COIL double agent, became the first operative of that agency to work with the Silkworms and Poison Geishas. Before the war was over, he was responsible for delivering approximately twenty high-ranking DOOM agents to the two clans. This gave him plenty of accolades from COIL, and gratitude from the Poison Geishas and Silkworms, along with a lot of money. He later retired from COIL altogether so he could raise his new family in China, but that is a story for another time.

-----

In the early nineteenth century, the country of Jamaica imported slaves to do the work for their masters. Several years later, the practice was banned. However, no one told that to Phillip Wolfe the fifth.

Phillip Wolfe V was a DOOM agent who came from old money in the states. Before he became a DOOM agent, he was a man who longed for the "good ole' days." Like his forefathers, he wanted to own a plantation, and like his forefathers, he wanted to own slaves. However, pesky little things like civil rights, demands for equality, and workers who would strike back if you even thought about whipping them, got in the way.

Though Phillip was considered a good agent, his ideas of how things should be were considered extreme, even by DOOM's standards. To the relief of many, especially non-white and women agents, Phillip bought a sugar cane plantation in Jamaica. To make things even better, it was in an impoverished part of the country, so he could be Lord of all he surveyed, and become the sole and only means of employment to the area natives. He couldn't buy and sell them as slaves, but it didn't mean he couldn't treat them as such.

DOOM agents who worked under him - white males who shared the same ideology or didn't care - would be invited to come to Phillip's plantation where they could have servants wait on them hand and foot, along with some other pleasures too. Like a lot of slave owners of long ago, he couldn't keep his hands off the hired/enslaved help, especially the young daughters of the families who worked there (just ask his four ex-wives and children). A couple of well-placed threats took care of any resistance from the young women or even the families, for employment was scare in his area, he saw to that. He made his own kingdom where he made the rules, and held the keys of life and death in the area, economically.

Henry Gibb was a native Jamaican who lost his parents early in his life, and had to work hard to get where he was. He managed to work his way through college, and was only a semester away from completing his Bachelors of Arts in Finance. All he needed was to work hard through the summer, and save his money for tuition. Then he ran across Phillip's plantation. And three semesters later, he was still trapped there. Phillip found out about his educational goals, and since the thought of blacks being educated bothered him, he kept Henry from going to school by promoting him. As his head servant, he could keep an eye on Henry almost at all times, and while his pay was good, he made him privy to his business with DOOM, with implied threats of what would happen if he ever decided to leave.

One day Phillip contacted DOOM about hiring a Poison Geisha. This was a surprise to many at DOOM headquarters. He had no threats from anyone from where he was; maybe this was a plan to wipe out a rival businessman.

The truth was along with Phillip's lustful fondness for women, he also liked to see them perform. One of the things he liked seeing was a geisha dance. On his trips to Japan, he had been entertained by geisha, however he's always been a little miffed when he found out that same entertainment did not extend to the bedroom. This time, he'll have a geisha entertain when he felt the need. As far as the "other" entertainment, he had plenty of young girls and women for that (after all, they were called "Poison" Geishas for a reason).

Kim Li was a Poison Geisha, fresh from her training at the temple. Along with being taught the traditional customs of the geisha, and the standard deadly fighting arts of the Poison Geisha, her passion was with computers. As part of her training, she went to the Massachusetts Institute of Technology to obtain her degree in Computer Science. She learned to know a computer inside and out. She learned to hack into almost any system created, and to build a computer from scratch. When she found out she would be hired to do some "computer work," she was anxiously looking forward to the challenge of hacking someone's allegedly "secure" system. She was deeply disappointed.

Instead of hacking or creating a new system, her "computer work" was limited to maintaining the current system at the plantation, something a high school student with a manual could do. The system was a standard DOOM system, quite adequate, but filled with firewalls and heavily monitored. Most hackers could not get into it, and any message that was suspect would be intercepted before it went to its destination. This kept Kim from sending any email messages to her temple to voice her complaints. But the most insulting, the most demeaning to her, was being called on to dance in front of her employer and his guests, usually half-drunk men who wanted to get under her kimono. He could've hired any regular geisha to do this, not someone with her skills and talents. On top of this, she had to see this man treat his employers the same way a farmer would treat a pack animal. Not being white, she wasn't treated much better.

According to her training, she was to stick with her assignment to the end of her contract, and breaching that was frowned upon, except in cases of being hired under false pretenses or a lack of respect. Kim had those as valid reasons to quit, but she was stuck with a heavily monitored system, almost constant supervision, and stranded in a section of an island in the middle of the ocean.

One evening, she took a walk around the plantation after another "performance," to clear her head and calm her temper when she ran across Henry sitting in an empty dining room reading I Know Where the Cherry Blossoms Grow, a book of poetry by a famed Japanese poet. In school, Kim had read the book and had grown quite found of it. She walked in the room, asked Henry about the book, and the conversation about poetry eventually turned into a discussion of shared grievances.

When Kim received the signal from her clan to leave, it wasn't by email or any means of communication that could be easily intercepted, it was through one of her long wooden hairpins, which held a transmitter for her to receive or give messages. The frequency was one that no one knew about. They were to be used only in times of an emergency. The constant monitoring kept Kim from sending a message, and she had to excuse herself to the bathroom to receive the message. It would've been an easy matter at that point for Kim to summon transport, and have a boat or helicopter at her location with a guerilla squad of Poison Geisha in rapid time, but she paused for a moment. She couldn't go without tying up some loose ends first.

Phillip was in his private quarters when he received the Priority One message of the war to be raged against them by Poison Geishas and the Silkworms. He walked to his gun cabinet, pulled out his favorite revolver, and loaded and cocked it.

For all his issues, Phillip was not stupid. He knew how dangerous one Poison Geisha or Silkworm can be, much less a whole army. He in fact disagreed very vocally of the plan to frame them in their attacks on political leaders. He said it was like voluntarily triggering a slave revolt, and even he knew from history how bloody those things can be. Out in Jamaica, he knew he was relatively safe, but not as long as he had a Poison Geisha on his plantation grounds. He placed the gun in his shoulder holster and walked down the hall to her quarters.

His walk became a trot, then a run as he heard the gurgled cry of one of his men. He was about to turn the corner and head down the stairs when he saw blood, fresh blood, splattered against the wall. Down the stairs, Kim was in the middle of the stairway, having already sliced and diced through two of his guards, and preparing to do the same to a third. She appeared to be using two fans, similar to what she used in her kabuki dance, except these were much longer and razor sharp. Instead of the standard kimono, she wore a red leotard that began with a turtleneck collar, then went straight down until it expanded enough to cover the breasts, then it made a straight line down the well toned belly to form a bikini-like bottom. She was performing the same movements she used in her dance, except this time she was faster and used the fans to deadly effect.

The guard to his credit, had his gun drawn and kept managing to back out of the way. Unfortunately, he had to back up the stairs, and he wasn't able to get a safe enough distance to use his gun. Phillip tried to aim, but he couldn't get a clear shot; his man was blocking his way, and Kim moved too fast. Eventually the guard was struck down, gutted like a fish, and the Poison Geisha leapt over the body to face Phillip in the hall.

For a split second, both opponents looked into the other's eyes. Phillip saw a cold hardness that he didn't see before in the Poison Geisha's eyes as she stood there, eyes visible just above the first fan, while the second fan was held lower, covering the rest of her body.

Phillip raised his gun and fired.

The bullet hit the fan blade that covered her chest, and bounced off. Phillip was stunned, but he fired again, meeting with the same result. And the Geisha resumed her dance.

Phillip tried shooting in the standard kill zone, shooting for a head shot, even aiming for an area to wound her to slow her down, but all that achieved was running out of ammunition. It was then that he understood the significance of this fan dance that on previous evenings left his guests clapping and cheering for more. This dance was also a kata, a form of practice for whenever the time came to fight, especially if one was using these blades of death. They also provided a shield that couldn't be penetrated.

He found himself backtracking like the last guard, barely remembering to hit a button on his belt that would alert the remaining guards and send them to his quarters. For those not in the front of the house, there was a secret passage into his room; it would've been too much to hope there were any remaining men in the front area, most likely literally cut down by the Poison Geisha.

Kim sped up her dance even faster, and Phillip barely accounted for it, his gun hand vulnerable as she delivered a sudden downward blow with one of the fans. The fan stuck the long barrel of Phillip's Glock, and sliced it in two. The shock on his face also cost him as he stumbled to the floor, avoiding another close blow. He managed to roll from harm's way as the Poison Geisha's bare right foot stomped the floor where his groin would've been. That would've stunned him long enough for killing blow.

Feeling a little dumb, but desperate, Phillip threw his gun at his attacker, like those gangsters did in old movies when their guns ran out of ammo. Like the movies, it had little effect as it was easily knocked aside. In another desperate move, he moved small tables and tossed whatever was available at her in an attempt to get some breathing room. Feeling glad he left the door open, he dived through the doorway of his room and slammed the door shut with his foot. He expected to see a fan cut through the door like one did that small antique table he pushed in front of her. When nothing happened, he quickly locked the door and met with three of his remaining men in another room of his quarters.

"Where are the other men?" Phillip asked.

All three men looked at each other for a moment before one of them said, "They were around the front."

Phillip cursed and said, "The geisha must have got them."

The largest guard, a 6'5" burly man, said, "That little jap? She's-"

"She's not a "little jap,' she's a Poison Geisha!" Phillip interrupted. "In fact, she's at the door right now. Why don't you take care of her, and notify me when you're finished?"

"Piece of cake," his guard said as he went toward the door.

Phillip shook his head. Why couldn't DOOM send me guards who have some sense, and why didn't I hire a normal geisha? He turned to his two remaining guards.

"We're going to go back through the secret passage to get to my boat until it's safe to come back or we can call for reinforcements," he said.

"What about Mack?" One of the guards asked.

"Maybe the fool will get lucky. Now let's hurry up and go!"

Kim paused in front of the door. She could slash the door to bits, but that may lead her into a trap. Besides, it takes time to do it, and he could get away. She folded her fans and shoved them into two holsters on her red belt. Kim then pulled out one of her wooden hairpins and easily picked the lock on the door, then kicked it open. Bullets flew through the doorway as Mack fired his pistol. When he realized he didn't hit anything but the wall, the henchman ventured out slowly.

Kim considered taking one of her fans and slicing his hand off, but she had another idea. She pulled out the same wooden hairpin that she picked the door with, and pressed a hidden button. A fine metal tip emerged, and as soon as Kim felt the vibrations of power, she quickly tapped Mack's gun with it.

Mack cried out as the small electrical charge of the micro tazer caused him to drop his gun and rub his hand. When he saw Kim appear, he charged forward to hit her with his good hand. Kim wasted no time; she leaped and delivered a left roundhouse kick that broke his neck. As the body fell to the floor, Kim grabbed his walkie-talkie and secured it to her belt. She found the secret passage and emerged at the other end just in time to see Phillip and his two men take off on his private yacht. He was too far out of range for Kim to try anything; all she could do was watch him sail off.

After a moment's reflection, Kim smiled to herself. She didn't have to kill him to defeat him.

She walked back through the secret passage back to Phillip's quarters and sat at his computer. Now that she had plenty of time, she hacked into the system, bypassing passwords, tearing down firewalls, and entered items of vital information, like Phillip's bank account, for instance. When she finished, she asked one of the frightened household servants (frightened because of the bodies of the guards lying around) to gather all the workers and their families to meet in the Grand Ballroom in an hour. Finally, she contacted transport for passage back to Japan for herself and one more.

An hour later, Kim, showered and wearing a green kimono, addressed all the plantation employees.

"Mr. Wolfe has departed, and he won't be back," she said. "The plantation is all yours now, to make into a company or to sell."

She told them who Phillip Wolfe really was, and how she took all of his vast fortune and divided it out to all the employees in equal amounts. When she finished telling them the news, everyone cheered.

"Dear lady," one of the field workers said, "we thank you for "freeing' us from that terrible man. But isn't there something you want to take for yourself?"

"Yes there is. Him!" She said, pointing at a surprised Henry. "Pack your things, Henry, you're coming with me."

As she made sure she had all her bags packed, there was a message on the walkie-talkie Kim picked up from the dead guard.

"Mack? Mack, are you there?" Phillip's voice said from the radio.

"Ah, Mr. Wolfe, I wondered when I would hear from you again," Kim said into the receiver.

"You! When I get my hands on you, I'll-"

"Mr. Wolfe, it would behoove you to listen to me, your life and possible future will depend on it. At first when I was released from my contract with you from the temple, I planned to hunt you down and kill you, but when you fled, I realized it would be a better plan to make you wish you were dead."

"What did you do?"

"First, I emptied all the funds in your bank accounts, and distributed them to your workers, or shall I say ex-workers, as well as alimony to your four ex-wives and child support. Turned out they had put out warrants for your arrest. All that money, and you won't give a dime to your own children. How sad.

"Your plantation is now a corporate entity owned by the workers. They may decide to make a profit, they may decide to let the place rot, their choice."

"Th-that's communism!" Phillip gasped.

"Like the dictatorship you had at your plantation was better?" Kim replied. "They're having parties all through the mansion because you left."

"DOOM has more than enough resources. I'll get everything back."

"About that, I hope you like that yacht, because it is now the only home you have. You are now a wanted felon in Jamaica, the United States, and most of the modern countries. I wouldn't be too concerned about DOOM if I were you. They have just been informed that you have defected over to COIL, branding you as a traitor to be shot on sight. COIL also has you on their most wanted list. And of course, the Poison Geishas and Silkworms are looking for you, but since they know roughly where you are, they may just leave you floating until they decide to pick you up."

Kim smiled to herself, imagining the expression on Phillip's face, then continued.

"Instead of killing you, I gave you a fate worse than death. Once you were a man of great wealth, who could have anything the world had to offer. Now you're a man with no money, no country, and no place to run. Have a nice life, Mr. Wolfe."

"If, if I ever see you again, I'll kill you," Phillip threatened.

"The next time you see me, you'll beg me to kill you. Good day, Mr. Wolfe."

And Kim ended the transmission.

Later that day on a private jet, Kim, her two hairpins pulled out, leaving her long black hair flowing over her shoulders, walked over to Henry, who was reclining at a seat reading another book of poetry. She sat down beside him, and he laid down his book.

"Kim, where are we going?" He asked.

She smiled, ran her right index finger along his cheek, and said in a soft voice, "I know where the cherry blossoms grow," then kissed him lightly on the cheek.

That was Kim's last field assignment. She decided one field assignment was enough for her, and transferred to the Poison Geisha's technology division in Japan with her first love, computers. Henry was able to finish his education at one of Japan's universities, completing his bachelor and later his MBA in Finance. He received an excellent career at a prosperous company, which was owned by the Poison Geishas. He and Kim later married, and lived in a cottage where they read poetry to each other.

The plantation that was formerly owned by Phillip Wolfe had become a corporation with the former workers as shareholders and board of directors. The corporation which became one of the island's biggest employers also had an effect on the nearby economy, making that impoverished area now one of the better business districts in Jamaica. On annual business meetings, they gave a brief history of how they came to be, giving credit to the Japanese geisha who was responsible for making it happen.

As for Phillip Wolfe, now wanted and hunted by everyone, no one is sure where he was or what he was doing, or if he was still alive. No one, except for the Silkworms and Poison Geishas, who took an occasional surveillance by plane to check to see if he was still adrift in the Atlantic Ocean. Meanwhile, the former tycoon and plantation owner sat in his yacht, floating. . .

-----

At a federal women's prison in California, it was recess, where the inmates went outside to workout, hang out with their individual gangs, talk with new found friends or what have you. On a corner of the grounds, there's a large rock with a 5'4" woman sitting on it lotus style. She was Jade, a Poison Geisha.

She was imprisoned for the attempted assassination of the Governor of California, a crime she did not commit. Oh, she was hired to assist for an assassination of someone, but she wasn't told who. She wasn't even assigned the job of assassination itself; but she was paid good money regardless, so she didn't question it.

The sniper missed with his rifle, and the governor, a former bodybuilder, and still in good shape, had no problem getting himself and his family under cover before his bodyguards got to help. The sniper did what he was instructed to do, and put the weapon in the stunned Poison Geisha's arms. What happened next seemed like a whirlwind as Jade was convicted on the flimsiest of evidence. Jade wondered if the judge was paid by DOOM. Only the fact that the assassination wasn't successful kept her from sitting on Death Row.

Upon her arrival to this prison, various gangs sought to "recruit" and "introduce" her, but Jade just wanted to be left alone. Those who were most insistent and forceful about it ended up in the infirmary.

The three factors outside of her daily meditation and kata that kept her sane were the facts that Poison Geishas care for their own, she just had to wait; a burning desire for vengeance on the DOOM agents who framed her, and the remembrance that no so long ago, she used to be like some of these inmates.

She was an orphaned street urchin on the streets of Korea, and a master pickpocket. She met her match when she attempted to steal the purse of a Poison Geisha. After she was given the choice to give back the purse or have her wrist broken, Jade was asked what kind of family would let her engage in such a dishonorable practice. When she said, "no one," the Poison Geisha took her in. That Poison Geisha, now a Silkworm, educated her in the ways of the world, and of the Poison Geisha. One of the things she taught her was that patience can be as deadly a weapon as a sword. Like everything else, you must know how to use it.

So now she sat on this rock, her blue jumpsuit peeled down to her waist, revealing a white sports bra, and her shower shoes kicked off previously to allow her more freedom of movement with her kata. Her kata had become a small source of entertainment among the other inmates as they watched, but she didn't care. The thing she needed to concentrate on was to wait.

Since all her possessions were taken from her, she didn't hear the signal. Then again, she didn't have to. The television in the recreation room and in individual cells broadcasted the destruction of several businesses across the country, otherwise known to the covert sector as DOOM facilities. While the attacks set off rumors of another invasion by terrorists, Jade could not help giving herself a small grin. Apparently her fellow geishas were seeking vengeance for the wrongs given to them.

One day she sat on her rock, her kata finished, and sitting in a lotus position, eyes closed.

"Yes?" She said.

This startled the prison guard for a moment. How did she know she was here with her eyes closed?

"You have a visitor. It also seems you're free to go," the guard said.

"Thank you," Jade said.

"Just between you and me, I never thought you pulled the trigger. You don't hit me as the type who uses a gun."

"You are correct. Thank you."

While she received her personal effects, Jade saw her "visitor," a young Korean-American woman in a navy blue business suit. Only the long black hair fixed in a topknot with two long wooden hairpins gave any hint that she was a Poison Geisha.

"Thank you," Jade said with a not so subtle tone of relief.

"Let's continue our discussion outside these walls," the lawyer replied in Korean.

Once the large doors of the penitentiary closed shut behind them, the lawyer continued.

"It took some doing, but we managed to capture the group of DOOM agents who framed you. After much - persuasion, we found out the name of the sniper and captured him too. We sent one of them to admit his role in the attempted assassination to set you free. We also found out the full plans they meant to accomplish, plus a few extra DOOM strongholds in the area."

"So your saying the DOOM agents you captured are-"

"Untouched, relatively speaking. We were saving them for you."

Jade had a big smile on her face.

"How soon can I see them? I can't wait."

-----

In a nice penthouse condominium in one of the nicer neighborhoods in London, England, an old man sat in his chair looking out the window and listening to the steady ticktock of the grandfather clock.

Lincoln Bishop was a retired DOOM agent. This in itself was rare because most DOOM agents don't survive long enough to reach retirement. The fortunate few who managed to make it that far go into management or a non-combative position; but when the time came for Lincoln, he ditched it all and settled for early retirement. Lincoln had reached the age where upon much reflection, the so-called ideals that his fellow agents have fought and died for, actually were not as important as they seemed. In fact, both sides had a point, but as youth-driven as DOOM and COIL was, any advice he had was regarded as the senseless rambling of an old dinosaur put out to pasture.

In fact, unknown to either agency, he made friends with a retired COIL agent who was his arch nemesis for many years. Every Wednesday, they played chess in the park, and joke about their old adventures, how the grandkids are doing, etc.

Upon his oncoming retirement, Lincoln fearing that his enemies may not be aware he retired yet, hired a Silkworm bodyguard. They were both the same age, but the Silkworm looked ten years younger. The two people grew from a working relationship, to a friendship, to lovers. Then, in a move that was unprecedented, they got married. This was unusual, not because he was a DOOM agent and she was a Silkworm; both agents of their respective groups do get married. It's just that it's unusual for a Silkworm to marry their principal, and visa versa.

Theirs was a relationship that grew closer with each passing year, and though she was no longer an employee, she still performed the duties of a Silkworm. There was one time the couple was interrupted by a group of young toughs when they were taking their daily stroll. Lincoln had to admit it was a thrill and a joy to see his beloved, old enough to be the punk's grandmother, put them in their place. After she left them bruised and unconscious, she took Lincoln's hand, and they resumed their stroll.

"Very well done, Poona," Lincoln said.

"Really? I thought it took me too long. I must be getting old," Poona said, a twinkle in her Indian eyes.

Though no longer an active DOOM agent, Lincoln still received the latest news from DOOM. Half of the time, he didn't pay much attention, the news consisting of the usual "We will be victorious" propaganda, the same stuff they spouted off for many years. However, this broadcast was different.

Lincoln stared with disgust as he saw on his computer screen the Silkworm and Poison Geisha proclaim their war on DOOM for betraying them.

"The fools, the stupid fools," he muttered as the broadcast finished. He saw the oncoming conflict would be messy, with DOOM's blood. He also knew that his wife was still a Silkworm, and she may have to do what needed to be done. In retrospect though, it wasn't too bad. He lived a full life, and the years he'd spent with Poona actually were the best years of his life. At least this way, she would be by his side.

As he sat in his chair, Lincoln suddenly heard the padded steps of bare feet coming toward him. Lincoln grinned to himself, he never recalled at any time Poona wearing shoes. He quickly remembered another time when he once saw a nice pair of pumps in a store window, and shown them to Poona, hinting for them to buy some.

"Why, so I'll sound like a horse?" She said.

Relying on his DOOM training, and the common sense husbands are supposed to have, Lincoln made a mental note never to mention the idea again.

"Lincoln, my love, you seem to be troubled," Poona said. "What's wrong?"

"I've recently heard the broadcast from DOOM," Lincoln said. "I trust you heard something similar from the Silkworms?"

"Yes."

"Why, how could DOOM be so stupid?"

"Speculation had suggested that with "new and improved" agents, our services have become expendable. Other speculations have said maybe they thought we were becoming too big a threat, and we would be the last obstacle to world domination." Poona waved her hand in the air in a dismissive gesture. "Like we want the world."

"What were your orders?" Lincoln asked.

"To drop what I was doing, assignment-wise, and return to the nearest cocoon. Silkworms hardly retire, you know."

"Yes, I know."

In the moment's pause, both of them could hear the ticking of the clock. With some difficulty, Lincoln spoke again.

"Poona, I just wanted you to know that I love you so much, I never thought I could love someone as deeply as I do you."

"I love you too, Lincoln, with every beat of my heart," Poona said.

"And I know you're also a Silkworm, and you have served them faithfully."

"Yes I have."

"I guess what I'm trying to say is, is,"

"Yes, Lincoln?"

"Just make it quick."

Poona looked back at her husband with a shocked expression that later turned into a laugh.

"That is the problem with your agency, you're too melodramatic," she said.

"But, but-"

"I wouldn't let anyone, Silkworm or otherwise, harm you, Lincoln; and you think I'm going to drop all that at the drop of a hat?"

"But your orders!" Lincoln finally blurted out.

"Yes, let's go over my "orders,' shall we? I was ordered to leave my current assignment, which was your personal bodyguard; that ended when we became married. There's also not a termination order in there, except for those few who find their DOOM employers a problem."

"But don't you still have to report back to headquarters?" Lincoln asked.

Poona kneeled beside him. "Darling, I remember what you told me years ago, and I've never forgotten it," she said.

"What's that?"

"That love will find a way."

"Ah yes, so what do we do?"

"Well, our two organizations are at war, and you're a notorious DOOM agent, retired. So I'm taking you under house arrest," Poona said.

"I see. So what are my rights?"

"None, unless I grant them," Poona said, as she cocked her head toward the direction of a room. "In fact, I must take you to the bedroom so I can "interrogate' you."

"You'll never make me talk!" Lincoln said, following along.

Poona took his hand and led him.

"We'll see about that," Poona said with an evil grin.

"Hey, a man could learn to love this "prisoner' stuff," Lincoln said as he closed the bedroom door.

-----

At a local cocoon in London, the receptionist reported to her superior.

"We just received a progress report from Poona Bishop regarding her progress," she said.

"Oh, if I thought about it, I never would've sent those orders to her. That's the one who's married to that retired DOOM agent, isn't she? Delightful couple. So what is her progress?" The superior said.

"She's placed her husband under house arrest, and she has been "interrogating' him for the last hour. He hasn't admitted to anything though," the receptionist said with a smirk.

The superior burst out laughing. "Well by all means, try harder!" She said.

The receptionist fought to keep her composure long enough to send the reply and hear the response.

"She said she'll get right on him, er, get on it right away," she said, then sighed. "I wish I had a "prisoner' to "interrogate.'"

"It would be nice if we all had someone to "interrogate,'" the superior said. "After this war mess is over, why don't we look for some?"

"Yes, honored mother, that would be a good idea."

-----

And those were some of the events that happened the day after, at the dawn of the war between the combined forces of the Silkworms and Poison Geishas v.s. the agency of DOOM.

For comments, suggestions, or story ideas, send your correspondence to shrewsberry@juno.com.