The Long Sunset

The continuation of the war of the Poison Geisha and Silkworms vs. DOOM

By Mongoose750 (mongoose750@yahoo.com)

After war was declared, the battle between the spy organization of DOOM, and the two assassin guilds of the Silkworms and Poison Geisha was in full swing. Things had not gone well for DOOM. In the past, they were a group that had no equal, save for their archrival COIL. Their opposition was all that kept them from ruling the world. Now after the Poison Geisha and Silkworms declared war, they found that the world was not theirs as much as they once thought.

The country of Brazil, and a growing part of South America was becoming a black hole to any DOOM agent who went there; once they entered, they're never heard from again. The two clans of assassins, originally thought to primarily be indigenous to India and Japan, were actually world-wide international corporations whose reach extended even beyond the thrones of power, and much more deadly than thought possible. They had all this, plus they still had their standard war with COIL, and other spy groups.

The resulting strain was leaving DOOM overextended, overworked, and because of the Poison Geisha and Silkworms, undermanned.

DOOM was an organization in crisis as they reached the long sunset.

San Paulo, Brazil:

At one of the finer hotels in Sao Paulo, Brazil, Reto Qin relaxed by the pool, sitting back in his lounge chair chatting with a few of the female guests. The 5'9", well-built DOOM agent had recently fled Japan. He returned from a mission on the southern end of the country only to find his headquarters in flames. When he saw the bodies of his fellow agents and his supervisors missing, he thought it would be only a matter of time before the Poison Geisha start looking for him. After finding out the other DOOM facilities in that part of the country were in similar disarray, he left his home country in an attempt to regroup and to plan what to do next. He did manage to contact a few remaining agents from Japan, and they planned to meet him to come up with ideas, and to at least feel safe for at least the moment.

But little did he know he was being watched.

Standing in a corner of the pool, dressed in a modest light blue bikini, was a 5'6" woman with long black hair and a muscular build. Her name was Violet, or "V" for short. The Brazilian of Japanese ancestry was one of the country's "Barefoot Assassins," a group of women specially trained by the government to seek out and terminate enemy agents. There was a tip that a well-known DOOM agent entered the country, and V checked up on it. When she confirmed that it was indeed Reto, she relayed the information back to headquarters, where they replied the possibility of capturing him alive was unlikely; so a quick sanction was in order.

V, like all Barefoot Assassins, was extensively trained in martial arts and had undergone an intense program of weight training. However, V was trained in something unique. Like her mentor, Gail, V specialized in conducting her assassinations in or near a body of water. For that, V's body was transformed into a powerful swimmer's build. She was also trained for deep sea diving, and to hold her breath for a long time.

It was an easy matter for V to walk into the hotel, and enter the outside swimming pool where she could watch her prey. He had not noticed her, and why should he? She was just another swimmer in a crowd of people. The crowd was both an advantage and a hindrance to V. It provided good cover, but it also made it hard for her to be discrete with her mission.

V watched the DOOM agent flirt with the other women, and then finally, he was by himself as he put on his sunglasses and laid back in his lounge chair to soak up some rays. V raised herself out of the pool. As she started to walk slowly toward her target, a plan started to form. He would naturally be on his guard when he returned to his room, so the best chance for a sanction would need to be now, at poolside. She ran through her mind the number of ways she could kill Reto in a way that would take less than three seconds, and wouldn't attract attention. As long as nothing interfered, she should be able to do it.

Unknown to V, another woman was watching her prey.

The woman was dressed in a red bikini that was also modest looking. The native Japanese woman stood 5'9" with long black hair, and a leaner muscular build. She was also situated at the end of the pool several feet closer to Reto than V was. At roughly the same time, the woman climbed out of the pool and started strolling leisurely toward the target.

V noticed the other woman, but reasoned it wouldn't be anyone she'd needed to fight. Most likely, she was going somewhere else. No, from the look in her eyes, she was headed toward Reto. If she stopped to talk to him, V would just walk harmlessly past them and find another opportunity to plan his demise.

V however was surprised when the woman in the red bikini suddenly swung one foot over Reto's legs, straddling him, and fired one punch into his chest, over the heart. Reto's body jerked once and was still. The woman got off Reto and turned towards her.

V's eyes widened slightly in amazement. Dim Mak, the death touch! It took years for a martial arts practitioner to get it right, if at all. The Poison Geisha had it down to a science, or rather about half of them do. She stared at the body for a moment admiring the efficiency of the technique. In the large crowd, only she saw the actual blow struck.

Then the two women faced each other. V fell into a ready stance, relaxed so it would not be blatantly obvious to the other surrounding swimmers who were still splashing around in the pool, unaware of what happened. The other woman just stood there impassively. Finally, raising her hands up briefly to signify no malice, she spoke.

"Japanese? Geisha?" She asked in Japanese.

"Brazilian," V replied, at the same time subconsciously shaking her head to indicate she had no wooden hairpins, the trademark of the Poison Geisha. She felt thankful her parents taught her the ancestral language; she knew it would come in handy someday.

The other woman looked and nodded. V asked a question.

"Silkworm? COIL?" She asked.

"Neither," the other woman replied. "This man was not of any great importance to you, was he?"

"Not anymore, that has been settled. Who are you, and why are you in my country?"

The woman raised her hands up again to indicate her intent. "Do not be alarmed. I am with the Japanese Secret Service, and I have been after this man for the last three months."

"Three months?"

"Yes, he's obtained state secrets to give to DOOM. We've found most of his connections, but he was rather elusive. His headquarters was somehow destroyed, and he finally fled here. I have the understanding that DOOM agents that arrive here tend to disappear and are never seen again. Are you partly the reason for this?"

"Yes," V said.

"Excellent. From what I saw of you, you didn't look like a typical hotel guest, and from the look of your body, you take your swimming too seriously to just lounge in a corner of the pool. In any case, I needed to make sure Reto went no further, you understand," the woman in the red bikini said.

"Yes."

"I guess normally we would show each other our credentials, but I see we left them in our bags."

"That does put us at a disadvantage," V agreed.

"Well I don't want to keep you from your mission-"

"My mission is done, thanks to you," V interrupted with a small grin.

"Oh. My work here is done too, so I will get my things and go. I congratulate your government on taking care of the DOOM problem." She extended her hand. "I'm Lin, and I hope when next we meet, it'll be under more relaxed circumstances."

V took the hand and shook it. "I agree; we have no problem with Japan, it is these covert agencies we've been plagued with that is a curse," she said. "I'm V."

Both women nodded, and turned to go their separate ways.

"V?" Lin said.

"Yes?" V asked as she turned around.

"Could you confirm a rumor for me? Is it true that the Poison Geisha and Silkworms have declared war on DOOM?"

"Yes."

"Then the streets of Japan will turn red with blood. Farewell, V."

Both women collected their respective bags, and left the hotel. It wouldn't be until someone asked Reto what time it was before they discovered he was dead. The supervisors of both women heard the news and nodded with interest. It was good to hear that another government was helping to rid themselves of DOOM.

When V told Gail of what happened, Gail stroked her chin. Gail was a 5'8" black woman with long black hair and a muscular build similar to V's. "I wonder if Bliss will let us take a short trip to Japan?" She said.

"Why would we do that?" V asked.

"We need to locate this Lin, and ask her, or found out who taught her this "death touch.'"

"But the Poison Geisha we have here could teach us."

"The Poison Geisha here are busy teaching the others, and out of that number, only one could do it. I think one of our Silkworms can, but I'm not sure. The Dim Mak could help us greatly, given the method of our work."

"Do you think we'll be able to do it? Master the death touch?"

"You and I can both snap a man's neck with one kick, so I'm sure we can stop a man's heart with one punch. Let's go and ask."

"Wait Gail, how do you know she'll just let us go to Japan?" V asked.

"Remember, to fulfill our agreement with the Poison Geisha, Silkworms, and Lionesses, Bliss has to send at least three of us to train with them. I didn't see a reason to go to Japan or anywhere else, until now."

"I can't wait to pack," V said.

Mexico City, Mexico:

President Juan Marcos entered his office with plans of calling his press secretary to give him his agenda for the day.

"Good morning, President Marcos."

The president spun in shock to see a beautiful mature woman sitting in a chair in a corner of his office. She had long black hair that framed her dark complexion. She was fitted in a long, flowing red dress made of silk. The dress was pulled up to reveal her long legs; dark, muscular, and bare, except for an ankle bracelet that went around her left ankle. The red toenails made a dramatic contrast with her dark skin.

"Madre!" President Marcos said. "Who are you? How did you get in here?"

The woman put a finger to her lips.

"My name is Sophie, I'm a Silkworm. That should answer your other question," she said in a husky alto voice.

The president began to grow pale.

"Do not be alarmed, I mean you no harm. I came to discuss . . . a business deal with you."

"What business would I have with a group of common assassins?" President Marcos said.

"Come now, mister president; since you know of us, you should know nothing about us is common," Sophie said with a dazzling smile that didn't tell you what she really did for a living. "Nonetheless, I came to talk about your problem with DOOM."

"What problem? We arrested the last agent in this country and chased the rest off about a year ago-" the president said, but stopped when he saw Sophie shake her head.

"Correction, you thought you rid the country of DOOM agents a year and a half ago," she corrected. "The so-called "agents' you arrested were either decoys or agents who were being disciplined for failing their mission. The truth is, your very government is infested with DOOM plants, moles, and undercover agents."

"And now you want me to strike a deal with them? You do work for them, don't you?"

"Another correction; Silkworms always worked for themselves, no one agency or government. If you made us an offer, we would've worked for you. Besides, we're assassins, not message boys; DOOM could deliver their own message. And apparently you haven't heard everything. DOOM used to be one of our clients until they betrayed us."

"Betrayed you? How?"

"Despite what you may think about us, we are first and foremost businesswomen, and we take the breach of a contract and violation of the client/employer agreement very seriously. Do you remember those attacks made against government officials in other countries, particularly Brazil?"

"Yes, I recall those incidents, especially what happened in Brazil."

"Well without going into the fine details, that was a DOOM plot, a move toward world domination. After the leaders were assassinated, we would be the ones to take responsibility for the killing, and we wouldn't even be the ones who did it. I mentioned Brazil specifically because that was where we discovered their plans."

"How?" The president asked.

"A reliable third party who are now our allies, and we'll leave it at that. So after we found out, we declared war on them until we got what we want."

"And that is?"

"The DOOM leader."

President Marcos stroked his chin. "That could take a while," he said.

"No matter, we are patient. You may have heard about the destruction of office buildings in the states. Well, that was the destruction of DOOM strongholds by Silkworms and the Poison Geisha, not terrorists."

Marcos gave Sophie a stern look. "And what's to keep me from calling the President of the United States and telling him right now?"

Sophie smirked. "Tell him what? No evidence of our presence is there, and no innocents were killed. Right now, the FBI and CIA are working overtime discovering who these dead agents really are. Besides, your message wouldn't get very far, because the United States are infested with DOOM as much as you are. The only reason you or their president hasn't been attacked is because there's no need to take something you already have."

The president of Mexico finally walked around his desk and sat down. If Sophie was going to kill him, she would have already. He thought for a moment, then said, "So what does this have to do with me?"

Sophie slowly uncrossed her legs, then crossed them the other way. Marcos couldn't help but notice the leg muscles flexing like steel cables from her thighs to her toes. She probably crushed plenty of people with those legs alone, he thought.

"I'm asking your permission for a "hunting license' if you will. We will be tracking down these DOOM agents with or without your help, but it would work to your advantage if you decided to cooperate," she said.

"To what, look the other way?" He asked.

"Not exactly; you'll need your eyes open to look for more staff people." Sophie produced a compact disc from the folds of her dress and tossed it on the president's desk. "That's a partial list of your staff alone who are loyal to DOOM."

Marcos placed the disk in his computer and opened up the file that listed the staff. For the second time that day, he grew pale as he scanned the number of names that were in reality DOOM agents. He finally closed the file and slowly turned around.

"How much?" He asked.

"As far as money, you owe us nothing for that information. What we would like from you is much different."

"How different?"

"I understand you have quite a few women who are doing well in your army, police, and intelligence services. I want ten of them."

"What? What are you going to do with them?"

"Just a moment, mister president. We want immunity when these DOOM agents are, shall we say, "removed.' Use any reason or excuse you like, but do not mention our name."

"Most people never heard of you," Marcos said.

"And we like to keep it that way. Third, we know your country is losing the war on drugs. And you could arrest these drug lords, but you and I know they have the best lawyers in the country, and they end up back on the streets the next day, not to mention the occasional war with the police."

"Wait a minute, what are you suggesting?"

"Oh you know very much what I'm suggesting, mister president, don't play na#ve. I'm offering that we're placed on retainer to take care of those drug lords for you, for a price, of course. We do need to make a profit somewhere."

The president was silent. The deal with the drug lords did sound tempting.

"I'm not agreeing to anything until you tell me what you're going to do with those ten women you asked for," the president demanded.

"Why, make them into Silkworms, of course. Think about it, mister president, you'll have one of the most feared assassin guilds on earth at your disposal to cleanse your government and solve your drug problem."

President Marcos stood up and faced the window overlooking the city. He stood there for a few minutes in deep thought.

"All right, I'll do it," he said finally, almost in a whisper.

"Before we seal the deal, I want to offer a token of good will to insure my intent is honest. Call your press secretary in here."

"What?"

"Call your secretary in here, and tell him you know all about the Icarus Project. I'll wait right here," Sophie said.

President Marcos pushed the intercom button and summoned his press secretary. He promptly entered, and he motioned for him to sit down in the other chair across the desk from where the president was sitting.

"Okay Ricky, before we get started, I just wanted to tell you that I know all about the Icarus Project."

The secretary suddenly became alarmed, and pulled the other end of his pen off, revealing a silver needle. He dove across the desk to stab the president with it when he was suddenly jerked away and slammed on the floor. A bare sole pinned Ricky's needle-carrying hand to the carpet.

"Hello Ricky, remember me?" Sophie said in a soft voice, and then delivered a chop that knocked him unconscious. "Sleep now."

The president was shocked. "I worked with him for years! He's been with me since I was a senator," he said.

"And he's been picking your brain and nudging you the way they wanted you to go for years," Sophie replied. "But he's in my hands now."

"What are you going to do with him?"

"We're not going to kill him, if that is what you were wondering. He is full of too much information to be disposable. I will tell you now that the others will not be as useful, so I hope you don't have any emotional attachment to them." She picked up the pen and sniffed the needle. "Interesting. If he stabbed you with this needle, you would've been dead inside of five minutes. This is one of DOOM's most potent poisons. It would have simulated a heart attack."

"No ' no, I don't have any emotional attachment to the rest," President Marcos said. "So what is the Icarus Project?"

"A little scheme we stumbled across when we ' took care of an installation outside of Poza Rica," Sophie said in her melodic alto voice. "You are familiar with the Greek myth of the boy with wings of wax who flew too close to the sun?"

"Yes I am."

"As soon as you reached the highest pinnacle in your presidency, something would happen that would send you out of office in disgrace. That would leave the position of the president to the next in line."

"Are you saying the vice president-?"

"No, he's not a plant, but he would be taken down too. I will provide a way for you to contact me, but it would be wise for you not to ask me too many questions, understand?"

"Agreed; and this conversation never took place."

"Yes, I will replace the listening devices on my way out, so DOOM won't suspect any changes."

The president tried to hide his surprise.

"You will tell your staff and the media that your Press Secretary has become ill and had to resign. Appoint Alexandria Wells as your new secretary two days from now," Sophie continued.

"Who's Alexandria?"

"Your new secretary, your close advisor, and your lifeline. She is one of us, and she has been well schooled in the field of politics. Except for your wife and children, she will be the closest person to you. You now only have a handful of people within your government you can trust. This is the only way we can watch your back."

"This is a strange approach from a group of assassins," President Marcos said.

"We also do a few other things as well, protection being one of them. This is a situation that works out for both of us; you get to "clean house,' and we get to take out the trash. Now why don't you go out and take a coffee break? I have a "sick' secretary to take care of."

The president had no problem leaving the room to take that coffee break. After all that transpired in the last twenty minutes, he felt he needed to take something strong, much stronger than the Columbian coffee he normally has served to him. Five minutes later, he returned to his office, and it was if the meeting never existed. Even the very brief struggle between Ricky, his now former secretary, and the Silkworm left no visible signs of conflict. It was if it was all a dream, or maybe a nightmare. Then he saw a handwritten note on his desk. He picked it up and read it.

Mr. President,

I am looking forward to putting our business agreement into action. Alexandria, your new secretary has received the best training, and will be able to pick up where Ricky left off.

The ten women you'll select will receive the best care along with the best training. Just inform Alexandria of who they are, and she'll take care of the details. I forgot to add they must be single, and if possible, over thirty.

You will hardly ever see me, but I'll always be around.

Your new business partner,

Sophie

President Marcos sat at his desk for a moment, taking this in, then he reached for the phone to contact his speechwriter, on e of the few uncorrupted people he had on staff, according to the disc. He needed to make an announcement on the replacement of his press secretary, and do it quickly. There was work to do.

Like any other organization that has been around a long time, the Poison Geisha has had its share of "stars," founders, and unsung heroes. Ling-Ling was like your average Poison Geisha ' graceful, unassuming, and deadly. One day she had an assignment that took her to Mexico. After her assignment was completed, she took a minute to survey the country she was visiting. It was at that time an idea came to her.

It was sometimes joked among Poison Geisha that Ling-Ling took a second flight to Mexico and never came back. That was an exaggeration, of course, but Mexico was soon to become her new home. With the permission of her superior, she along with a few trainers traveled to Mexico to create a cell group of Poison Geisha there. The Mexican Poison Geisha, or Mexican Geisha as they would later be called, would grow to become a dominant force in that country in the world of assassins along with the Silkworms, but they had a humble beginning.

The country of Mexico is a rather diverse country in terms of ethnicity, so a Japanese woman would not stick out as much as a foreigner might think. The real problem lay with gaining recruits. In Japan, the training houses and schools were filled with so many recruits that short of a major disaster, it would be years before there was any sign of a shortage. Ling-Ling knew she couldn't very well ask a woman on the street if she wanted to be an assassin, but she took a similar approach.

Going to the orphanages, street gangs, and even the local prisons, she recruited her school of assassins. She also visited the underground catfighting circuits to find potential Poison Geisha. Once she got them, she trained and taught them many things besides the fine art of assassination. After they were taught, she sent them out to gather more recruits. One all girl street gang, the Sehora Caliente virtually vanished off the streets because Ling-Ling recruited them all. Within a year, she had her army of lady assassins prepared and ready for business. They even had a look similar to their Japanese counterparts with their own kimonos with Spanish designs on them.

On the eve of the war with DOOM, the Mexican Geisha had already proved themselves quite deadly. Perhaps because of a reflection of some of the recruit's background from being former gang members, the Mexican Geisha's weapon of choice was the stiletto. Like any Poison Geisha, they were a walking armory, from the many weapons concealed in their kimonos to the traditional long wooden hairpins.

Ling-Ling received a call from one of her US counterparts about a DOOM agent who was responsible for hiring one of their geisha to aid in an assignment, and then pinning the assassination on her (though she had no involvement), then having her executed after the task was completed. He managed to escape with a few of his underlings when the Poison Geisha and Silkworms stormed their headquarters.

"I'll send you his head," Ling-Ling hissed.

"No, I want him whole so I can take care of him when I arrive. You can dispose of the rest, though," the other geisha said.

"My ladies are in need of a workout."

"I look forward to seeing them."

"I'll call you soon."

Ling-Ling summoned a black Hummer, then had six of her Mexican Geisha, plus a driver get in with instructions to leave the leader alive. The DOOM agent and his lackeys were holed up in a safehouse on the outskirts of town. The Mexican Geisha shed their kimonos, revealing black one-piece leotards. Barefoot, they glided onto the grounds of the safehouse, already taking out two of the agent's men with their stilettos. The third one was eliminated with a garrote. The last two, two women, were going to be taken out by hand, the last two Mexican Geisha decided. A brutal choke and a broken neck later, the DOOM agent was all alone.

The agent was shocked because for one thing, he didn't know any Poison Geisha existed in Mexico. Second they worked so fast! Unlike most Japanese Poison Geisha, the Mexican Geisha were trained in stealth to strike quickly. Also unlike the Japanese Poison Geisha's system of fighting, which was primarily striking, like karate, the Mexican Geisha were trained in more of a grappling style similar to Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu, judo, and wrestling. Third, he thought nobody, not even DOOM knew where he was. During her time in Mexico, Ling-Ling learned to know it like the back of her hand. Almost nothing of any importance went on without her knowing about it.

The DOOM agent found himself in a large room of the safehouse unarmed and surrounded by the Mexican Geisha. A 5'6" stocky, full-figured Hispanic woman stepped into the circle, standing five feet away from him. In her days of being a gang leader, Jamie Montez was known as the "Lady Bull." When Ling-Ling recruited her, she made her rough appearance beautiful, made her blustering movements graceful and flowing like water, and transformed her excess fat into muscle. Now as one of the team leaders of the Mexican Geisha, to see her muscular form in a leotard could be rather intimidating to men and women alike, as well as quite alluring.

"Su Lin would like to see you senor," Jamie said.

"How much are the Poison Geisha paying you, I'll double it!" The DOOM agent said.

"Senor, you don't understand; we are the Poison Geisha. You set up one of our own, and executed her. We do not like that."

"I have some pretty high connections in the government here."

"Oh yes, that's right. I'm afraid the Silkworms took care of them. You're all alone, senor."

The DOOM agent launched some threats, but Jamie laughed them off.

"Su Lin wants you alive, but she didn't say anything about being returned in one piece. Prepare yourself, senor."

"What?"

A right cross from Jamie made the agent aware of what was happening there. He was fighting for his life. Poison Geisha have been defeated in battle before, so it was possible to win. But the stocky woman moved so fast, it took him off guard. Shaking his head to clear it, he settled into a boxing stance to prepare for the next attack. Jamie surprised him again by delivering a baseball slide, her left heel knocking the agent's legs out from under him. He did a controlled roll to get back to his feet, while his right hand went to his back pocket to pull out a knife. Jamie apparently was aware of that maneuver, because she delivered a hard kick to the face, knocking him over, and causing the knife to fall from his hand. Seeing the knife was only six inches from his hand, he reached for it, but a brown foot slammed down on his wrist, painfully pinning it to the floor. Jamie then fell on him, banging her knees onto his chest.

"This is for our fallen sister, senor," she said as she delivered a right punch to his face, followed by a left jab to his jaw, then a right to his nose . . .

"Honored sister, we have your DOOM agent whole, but a little damaged," Ling-Ling said to her Poison Geisha counterpart in the United States.

"A "little damaged?'" The other Poison Geisha replied.

"It appears my ladies took the betrayal and execution of that Poison Geisha rather personally."

"And just how "personally' did they take it?"

"Two black eyes, a busted nose, I think a fractured cheekbone, and a cracked rib, but mostly a lot of bruises."

"It appears your Mexican Geisha got that workout they were looking for," the US Poison Geisha said.

"Not so much; except for my team leader who beat up the agent, the others barely drew a sweat," Ling-Ling laughed.

"I would like to borrow a few of your Mexican Geisha to give them a "workout' here in the states. I know of a DOOM safehouse that needs to be eradicated."

"That should not be a problem; just pick who you would need."

"Thank you. In the meantime, thank your ladies for me, and have your doctors patch up the agent as best they can. I want to make sure his wounded eyes can look at me; for I want my face to be the last thing he sees on this earth."

One day, all the Poison Geisha gathered together for an important conference. It wasn't the matter of declining numbers or lack of business; on the contrary, business was excellent, their name spoken only in hushed whispers. In fact, their business dealings have extended even outside the boundaries of Japan. This unexpected expansion brought up a couple of questions. There was also the issue of techniques and progress. For example, the old plan of placing poison in a victim's tea still worked, but what if the victim didn't drink tea? Certain ploys that worked in the age of the samurai were now becoming obsolete.

The issue of expansion started ironically with a question about fashion.

One geisha complained that her clan wore the traditional garb of the geisha, the kimono, the zori sandals, and such, but much of their business had been in Korea, where they don't wear kimonos. Other geisha from other clans replied that this was the same point when they worked in Mongolia, China, Vietnam, and the outskirts of the Soviet Union. Worse still, a fleeing victim can spot a pursuing geisha in these countries where they stick out. A particular geisha had to shrug off her kimono before tracking down her quarry in the darkened jungles of Thailand.

It had been said that the Japanese were a strongly traditional yet progressive people, keeping customs that have existed for hundreds of years, yet they still move forward with modern technology. They are also known to be practical people, and assassins by their very nature were very practical. The Poison Geisha were no exception to this.

The clan leaders discussed this issue in detail, and decided that kimonos and the standard geisha garb did not need to be worn outside of Japan. However, a remnant of their heritage must remain, lest they forget who they are and where they come from. It was from this that the wearing of the long wooden hairpins became a trademark, and ironically, one of the Poison Geisha's most used weapons.

On the issue of techniques and tactics, it was readily agreed that they needed to be upgraded. A bigger emphasis was placed on unarmed combat and the use of weapons, and less on poisons. Guns of any kind were forbidden. They were considered a "man's weapon," and had no place in the Poison Geisha.

When the decision to adapt outside the walls of Japan was decided, this brought up another vital issue, the use of non-Japanese or "outsiders." It turned out the Poison Geisha were not only a feared group of assassins, they were also an organization that many women desired to join. There were many Chinese for instance, who expressed their desire to want to strike back at the men who oppressed them. Also, the increased demands from clients overseas have stressed the regular training centers. It took time to prepare a raw recruit in the deadly arts of the Geisha. The teachers were determined to turn out a quality assassin, and did not want to be rushed by the client, no matter how much money was offered.

Much discussion was engaged about this, and in the end, practicality and economics prevailed. After hundreds of years of being homogeneous to their native land, the Poison Geisha Clan of Japan was no more. They were now the Poison Geisha, and international organization of woman assassins trained in the tradition of the geisha of Japan, and the deadly arts of the Poison Geisha, but not necessarily a native. This move also opened the door for non-Asians to join. In a few short years, this move changed the Poison Geisha from being primarily a Japanese clan to a worldwide business.

There was one small contingent that refused most of the new changes that was instituted that day. They maintained that refused most of the new changes that were instituted that day. They maintained that the old ways were still useful, and that Poison Geisha should be limited only to Japan and the Japanese. Rather than argue the point further, both sides decided to agree to disagree; neither side saw a need to continue and risk disrupting the harmony.

So there were now two different groups of Poison Geisha. The smaller group was called for sake of clarification the Traditional Poison Geisha, and largely stayed true to the old ways that have been established hundreds of years ago. They remain a group that is still largely used. Until recently, DOOM hired assassins primarily from this group. The larger group, the Contemporary Poison Geisha, became a springboard from which several other types of Poison Geisha originated; from the standard Geisha (where DOOM had hired also), to the Korean Poison Geisha that are run like an army, to the muscular Iron Geisha, to the Wolf Geisha of Southern Japan, who like their namesake hunt in packs, to Transport, who's duty is to do just that, to the Technology Geisha, or "Geek Geisha," who comes up with enough gadgets and devices to make any Poison Geisha a virtual walking arsenal. Even the more eccentric Poison Geisha in Europe can track their origin to this one group.

Despite the concerns of the traditionalists, most Poison Geisha clans are located in Japan; they still wear kimonos (when it's convenient), and are either predominately Japanese/Oriental or were that way by ancestry.

One day, two Poison Geisha walked along the beach in Japan, enjoying some time alone. One turned to the other and asked, "So how many kinds of Poison Geisha are there?"

The other one thought and scratched her head. Finally, she bent down, grabbed a handful of sand, and placed it in the hands of her perplexed friend.

"Why don't you count those grains of sand," the other one said with a smirk. "I'm sure that would be easier."

Los Vegas, Nevada:

Regina Jones unpacked her suitcase and stretched her 5'6" frame a little as she looked around the fancy hotel suite that was going to be temporarily her new home. Somehow the Poison Geisha and Silkworms had discovered where most of the DOOM facilities and strongholds were located in the western United States. A growing number of DOOM agents, especially the high ranking ones, were being caught or killed. Regina's supervisors and coworkers at her level agreed that for now, the best solution was to become scarce, corresponding only by way of encrypted email.

Regina, a Hispanic woman with shoulder length black hair and a slim build had a reputation for being a tough agent and an equally tough supervisor. She strongly believed that the only DOOM agents who made it up as far as she had or higher were tough; those less so deserved their fate. She stood there in her dark brown business suit and white blouse fuming. When her Seattle facility was overran with Silkworms, she wanted to stand and fight the witches. It took three to four of her fellow associates to drag her away as the place was going down in flames (her doing, in order to "smoke them out").

After they made it to a safehouse and met others from another destroyed facility, Regina proceeded to chew out the survivors, calling them "wimps" and "cowards" among other terms for not taking a stand and fighting a bunch of enraged old ladies. When she calmed down, and cooler heads prevailed, they decided to break up into smaller groups and scatter to newer locations further south. Regina, and the three fellow agents who drew the short straws, chose a luxury hotel on the outskirts of Vegas to make their hideout.

Okay, Regina thought, maybe it's not the same as fighting off a group of COIL agents, but still we could've made a stand. Well, enough about that; its time to relax and figure out our next move. Grabbing a bottled water, Regina sat herself down in a chair and considered her options. After twenty-five minutes later, there was a knock on the door. Expecting it to be room service or one of the other agents, Regina answered the door. She realized her gun in her shoulder holster wasn't fully loaded, but she had more than enough to put anyone down.

The career agent had seen a number of things in her service to DOOM, but nothing like this. A woman standing 5'10" faced her in the doorway, dressed in only a black bikini top and a white silk thong. Her figure was large, not fat; a larger version of the so-called "perfect" 36-24-36 figure, except the numbers were bigger. Her complexion was Nordic, with blue eyes and medium length blond hair drawn up in a topknot held together with two long wooden hairpins. Her fingernails and toenails were painted red, which seemed out of place to Regina somehow, but then again, this very scene did.

"C-can I help you?" Regina said, stretching.

"Regina Jones?" The large woman asked.

"Yes?" They decided earlier not to use aliases.

"My name is Dee Dee, I'm a Poison Geisha. You're to come with me please."

Regina had already been through a rough couple of days. Yet upon seeing this unusual sight, the DOOM agent burst out laughing.

"You're a Poison Geisha? You look more like a sumo wrestler. You're not even Japanese!" Regina said, still laughing.

"You have guessed correctly," Dee Dee said. "I'm not Japanese, but there are Poison Geisha for almost every color of the rainbow. I am a representative of the Iron Mountain Clan, where we are sumo wrestlers."

Regina looked Dee Dee over. "You're huge, but you're not that big."

She thought she heard Dee Dee sigh before she replied, "Just because we are sumo does not mean we let ourselves go. We are in excellent physical shape. Now come with me please."

"Or what, you're going to sit on me?" Regina said, laughing again.

Dee Dee stepped into the room, closing the door and slowly shaking her head.

"Yes, I will subdue you by force if necessary, but things will go much easier for you if you comply now," she said.

Regina looked her over again. She was bigger, but so what? She's taken on larger opponents before and won. Surely she's more than a match for some plus-sized woman who claims to be a Poison Geisha and a sumo wrestler.

"I don't think so, tubby," Regina said as she got into a fighting stance.

"Very well," Dee Dee replied, as she got into a sumo stance, complete with the ritual of stamping her feet before a match starts.

There were about a hundred put downs, insults, and crude jokes Regina had about her larger foe, but she decided to save it after she beat her. She ran forward and delivered a side kick into Dee Dee's stomach. Dee Dee glanced down at her belly like she had an itch. She shrugged it off and advanced forward.

Maybe she didn't hit the right spot hard enough, she thought as she slammed her left fist into her stomach again. It felt like striking an extra-firm mattress. Dee Dee gave a look that appeared to say to Regina, "Are you finished?", then lunged forward. It was her turn.

Regina barely got out of the way of Dee Dee's lunge. She moved very fast for her size, and also had the trademark gracefulness of a Poison Geisha. Apparently she wasn't kidding about belonging to a Geisha clan. And that wasn't fat she expected to hit, that was solid muscle. She needed to try a different tactic. Regina feinted a punch, and then countered with a roundhouse kick, aimed high.

Dee Dee parried, or rather, swat Regina's kick away, momentarily leaving her off balance. The sumo geisha then delivered a right open palm blow to Regina's chest. The blow sent Regina flying over the sofa and on the hardwood floor.

Enough games, time to harpoon this whale, Regina thought as she reached for her pistol in her shoulder holster. Quickly shaking off the effects of her crash landing, she popped up on her knees, aiming her gun over the sofa, ready to shoot. It was a move the sumo geisha expected however, as a hand clamped over Regina's, and ripped the weapon from her grasp, sending it to another part of the room.

Regina climbed on top of the sofa, and propelled herself at the taller woman, attempting a more aerial approach. Again, Dee Dee expected it as she caught Regina, and then proceeded to shake her back and forth like a dog with its prey. After Regina was all shook up, Dee Dee positioned her arms, and delivered a bear hug. It wasn't a bone-crushing bear hug, it was a gradual one, meant to deprive the victim of breath, and eventually of consciousness. The thrashing around and cursing Regina performed helped Dee Dee's intent even further.

When Regina ran out of energy and air, Dee Dee slung the DOOM agent over her back, and left the room. She bent down and picked up her kimono sitting beside the door (she had a feeling she wouldn't need it). She padded down the main stairway where several other women stood, of various heights, and colors, but all with the same strong build, and an unconscious DOOM agent either slung over their shoulder, or cradled in their arms. Dee Dee approached a tall Asian woman whose height exceeded hers by a few inches. Besides wearing her hair in the same style, she wore a dark blue kimono with red trim. The kimono was not closed, but still hung open, revealing a blue bikini and thong set. She also had a DOOM agent over her shoulder.

"Mistress, here is one of the leaders from the Seattle location," Dee Dee said.

"Very good, Dee Dee," the leader said. "I take it she gave you a bit of a fight?"

"A bit," Dee Dee smiled.

"That is all right. After years of associating with our more slender, delicate-looking sisters, I suspected they may not take us seriously."

The tall woman beckoned at Dee Dee, and both laid down their load on the stair rails long enough for them to put on and fasten their kimonos, then both picked up their load once again.

Addressing the whole group, the leader said, "Right now, transport should be waiting for us. Let's drop off our prisoners and leave."

A Mongolian woman, about 5'5", was placing a large hand over her victim's face, knocking him unconscious once again. "Mistress, which way do we leave?" She asked.

"Why out the front door, of course!" The leader laughed. "We'll be seen, but I don't think anyone would be foolish enough to take on a group of Sumo Poison Geisha!"

As they came down the stairs, through the lobby, and out the front doors, the leader's statement proved correct. People stopped and stared at the strange sight of large women carrying off men and women and tossing them in a truck, but no one dared to try and stop them. A few bold individuals shot some pictures, but the authorities weren't informed, probably because nobody would believe them. They also adhered to that old saying, "What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas."

After years of being a male-dominated sport, women finally started participating in sumo wrestling. Originally played in the underground clubs of Japan, it started to become a pastime filled with more international contenders than their male counterparts. The tournaments received a growing number of sponsors, one of them being the Poison Geisha (anonymously, of course). This also produced a new type of assassin for the clan.

The idea originated from a plus-sized Poison Geisha who frankly was tired of the ideal shape for the clan being petite and delicate-looking. When she saw the popularity of women sumo wrestling rise, she saw her chance to push the idea to her leader of having a separate clan for the more stout among them. She also suggested giving support to the sport. The leader agreed, and another division of Poison Geisha was created.

Although they made excellent assassins, they primarily were hired as guards or bodyguards. Clients who hire them found that their presence was less intimidating to the client's family than a huge man would, and children love them. A growing number of businessmen hire them for the primary duty of personal bodyguard, which may indicate that there are a lot of men in Japan and the rest of the world who prefer large women.

Regarding the sport, the Poison Geisha invested in a stable of sumo women to participate. This was one of their "legal" ventures. Many times over the years, their women were ranked number one in competition, and there was a long waiting list of candidates to join their training camps.

Unlike the Poison Geisha, a similar meeting held by the Silkworms did not go quite as harmoniously.

One day, Silkworms from all over gathered together and held a conference. Though the clan was birthed in India, and Indians were the primary ethnic group at that time, there was no problem for the clan to develop in different countries, and to enlist different groups of people. In fact, as opposed to the gathering of Poison Geisha, containing a sea of yellow with small splotches of white, the gathering of Silkworms was a sea of red, yellow, black and white, with representatives from places the founding mothers never expected, like Europe, Africa, China, the Middle East, Japan, and the southernmost part of Russia. The very reason the meeting was held at all was so the mature assassins would know who the others were.

With their organization suddenly becoming a worldwide enterprise, plans were immediately made to make sure each group, or "cocoon" kept in touch with each other. Along with that, rules were made that a country's disputes were independent of Silkworm operations. This rule was made so Silkworms of feuding countries would not find themselves at odds with each other. This was of great comfort to the Silkworms of India/Pakistan, North/South Korea, China/Japan, among others. Laws were also made to have no participation in assassinations that would influence a war one way or the other. If a woman was hired to kill a president or king, that was fine, but not while he or she was raging war; peacetime would be best. There were of course exceptions like civil wars, and some countries were at war all the time, so a sanction of an officer really would not change things one way or the other.

Training was one of the major topics covered. Initially a Silkworm would pass down her craft to another as a mother would pass a favorite recipe to her daughter. This was still a favored method of training today in some countries. This eventually evolved into the formation of training centers. However, a few things were lost in the transaction. India had the privilege of training their Silkworms in the martial art of Kalaripayatlu. Silkworms in China had at least three hundred styles of kung fu to rely on. Japan had chiefly ninjutsu, plus karate and jiu-jitsu, Africa had their own martial arts to rely on. However, in some countries, the Silkworm was only armed with a small weapon, and whatever small tricks she may have learned. As the Silkworms looked at one another, some saw women who were in excellent shape for their age, while others were frail. Some looked like a grandmother, but they could hold their own in a fight, while others had their looks, and nothing else. Something had to be done.

After some serious discussion, it was decided, and Silkworms who have mastered a marital art, and Silkworms who taught physical fitness to others in their own cocoons volunteered to train those who needed it. Some offered the argument that they were too old until they saw how old some of the instructors were. One Irish Silkworm summed it up when she said, "If you're old enough to kill, then you're old enough to learn how to fight."

Age became another topic, because it was apparent a number of the Silkworms haven't yet reached their thirtieth birthday, a sign of offense to some. A few were in their mid-twenties; some were even in their late teens.

The over thirty-five or forty rule was again reinforced, but of course, there was always exceptions. In China or India, thirty-five or forty was nothing to think about; the people there were long-lived anyway. However, in some countries, it was a major accomplishment to even reach thirty-five or forty. Also, the issues of supply and demand could not wait until their assassins reached thirty. In those cases, a wavier was made. The young Silkworms were allowed to operate as they were (one nineteen-year-old already had ten kills to her credit), but no more Silkworms under the age of twenty were allowed to enter the field. Many Silkworms were the byproduct of hard lives that they would not want to wish on their children or grandchildren, no matter how successful an assassin they were. To see a mere child enter the career of killing was too disturbing. There were a few families who used it as the family trade (the mother would pass her skills on to the daughter, and so on), but these were quite rare.

Most other issues were brought up and settled, and some didn't even become an issue until later, like technology, but that would be covered in their first meeting with the Poison Geisha. Regarding weapons, guns were also shunned. The Silkworms at this point saw themselves as artists, and the human corpse was their canvas. Besides, anyone could shoot a gun, and they were too noisy anyway. It was also decided that their assassinations would be done barefoot. This gained very little argument, even from those in countries where they had harsh winters. Silkworms were known for being rather hardy anyway.

Then came the subject of tactics. In the early beginnings of the Silkworms, most methods and tactics were primitive. Tools like poisons were hit or miss, weapons were used when they were obtained, and success could only be gauged when the target was dead; killing the target and leaving alive was a total success. Then there was the matter of hiding from the authorities. The best weapon that they felt they had to offer was themselves, their bodies; after all, that was how the first Silkworm had done it, wasn't it?

Regardless of how the first Silkworm slain her victim (which was in the archives for those who had the time and patience to look), at that time, it was thought that sex was the best weapon. Copies of forbidden or rare texts on deadly sexual techniques were obtained or stolen, yogis were sought and asked, often by force, of tantric moves that would leave their victim incapacitated or dead, and the finest clothing made from silk was obtained so the assassin can look alluring, but hiding her deadly intent.

As the years gone by, the Silkworm's modes of operation have grown in leaps and bounds. Sultry was replaced with stealth, seductiveness was replaced by a number of tools, weapons, and other methods, and the best weapon a Silkworm had to offer was still themselves; just not the way it was originally intended. Hand to hand combat and being fit was the new norm. At least carrying a hidden stiletto or using something less obvious like a scarf or bracelet was something taught by Silkworms who weren't as strong.

Less and less Silkworms relied on the old ways, though there were still a few stories. One tale told of a Silkworm who scaled the wall of a huge castle, then padded down the hallway to her targets' quarters. She knocked out the bodyguard and came in the door. There she seduced her target and gave him the best sex he ever had. In the afterglow of the moment, she reached up and broke his neck. She got dressed and prepared to leave when she encountered the targets' girlfriend, who came over for a little twist with her boyfriend. Not ruffled, she proceeded to seduce the girlfriend and bed her as well. As the girlfriend was recovering from the sudden passion, the Silkworm snapped her neck as well. She then fled the quarters just as the bodyguard began to awaken, and climbed back down the castle wall to disappear in the darkness.

An extra fact that was astounding to all but other Silkworms was that the woman was seventy at the time.

One day, a group of fledgling Silkworms attended a temple in India for training. After their training was over, the women looked themselves over. Not only were they in the best shape of their lives, they were rather attractive as well. Later they ran across the forgotten texts of lethal yoga and deadly sexual techniques. They reasoned among themselves as attractive as they were, why not resume these techniques to hunt and strike down their prey? And there, at that particular temple in India, the erotic fighting arts made a comeback.

The Silkworms who revived this art forgot to take into account a few things. One, that attraction and sexuality are objective. That is, what attracted one man may not attract another. Working on a target without knowing his tastes could become risky. Two, heterosexuals are generally heterosexuals a hundred percent. The texts displayed techniques that can be used on both men and women with a special section on woman-to-woman methods. But if the target happened to be a woman who's faithful to her husband or boyfriend, and has no leanings to the other side, there could also be a problem. An additional problem was women instinctively know when another woman is making such overtones toward their beloved. Many an assassination attempt had failed when a wise target would listen to what his wife had to say about "that woman." Three, it's one of the oldest tricks in the book. Any wise person in power knows that there are those who seek to take them out of the equation, usually permanently. Save for loved ones, and trusted staff and security, keeping everyone at a safe distance does wonders for longevity. But despite these obstacles, these Silkworms plugged on, refining these skills into their game until they practically dripped with sensuality.

This period was when DOOM started hiring these Silkworms into their employ. Except for what's written in the archives, the head Silkworm, and the others at that temple, no one was quite sure how the business transaction took place. There are assumptions that the DOOM spies or representatives were seduced, but that particular temple wasn't talking. If that was true, it might explain how some DOOM and COIL agents have gleaned their sensual skills. Regardless, that temple gained a regular employer that would keep them busy, active, and endangered at the same time. The steady work would be good for that cocoon for the hard times ahead.

All attempts to share their special knowledge with the other cocoons were refused and often met with scorn. At the gathering, the issue was brought up by a Silkworm whose own cocoon was being divided in two over the issue. The other cocoons were shocked over this, for many of them; the use of seduction was barbaric and had no use for them.

"I've been oppressed by these dogs all my life; why would I want to sleep with them?" A Silkworm from Belogorsk, a Russian town close to the Chinese border said.

A few advocates spoke on behalf of the sensual methods, pointing out the advantages. But still others disagreed.

"When I'm hired, I kill. When I want sex, I find it elsewhere," argued a German Silkworm.

It's too risky and dangerous, a Chinese Silkworm said.

My body is my own, I give it only to whoever I chose, an Israeli Silkworm replied.

A Silkworm from Mongolia, a powerful-looking woman of medium height, faced the other Silkworms in favor of the tactics, and said, "It is stupid," then sat down. No one dared to argue with her.

A few Silkworms from France could see where the new "old" moves had merit, and discussed it among themselves.

The erotic Silkworms argued one more time on behalf of the techniques.

A Silkworm from Milan, Italy said, "If we start sleeping with those we kill, aren't we being no better than what men say we are?"

It was obvious among the cocoon leaders that if left to continue, the argument could escalate into physical conflict, and possible civil war, a foe more devastating than their enemies. It was held to a vote that the tantric practices would not continue, but the small temple from India, and a few others refused. They also refused a few other final decisions. Finally, after other attempts to resolve the conflict have failed, the Silkworms placed themselves into three groups: the erotic Silkworms in their particular cocoon in India, with a few adherents who decided to join them, the regular Silkworms, who were almost everyone else, and a smaller section that decided that they may use a few of these techniques on some occasions, but not all. That third group would be the only one who could communicate to both groups freely. The erotic Silkworms were now outcasts, left on their own to provide funding and recruits.

Despite that, the erotic group grew; not as much as the others, but well enough to function on their own. DOOM was one of their bigger employers, but not the only one. It turned out there were some places and locales these Silkworms would go (like brothels, harems, etc.) to sanction their target that the others would or could not.

The other Silkworms grew and progressed. Unlike the Poison Geisha who divided into specialized groups, Silkworms divided by geographical regions, each with their own characteristics.

There were many cocoons in India besides the erotic one, and these were known as the original or traditional Silkworms, who were excellent hand-to-hand fighters and masters of camouflage. The Silkworms in Japan and northern China were known for this as well. Mongolian Silkworms were known for being strong, powerful women. Their training facility was known for being one of the toughest and best training centers for Silkworms. In Vietnam, the Silkworms were known for their patience, while in Thailand, they're known for their speed. Silkworms in the Middle East recruit younger women, but then life there became hard at an earlier age there.

China, a vast country with a huge population has many cocoons, but they hold primarily three main groups of Silkworms; the northern group as mentioned before, the southern group, and a central group, a hybrid composed by both the Silkworms and the Poison Geisha, a relatively new group. Silkworms from Burma and Iraq were superb knife fighters, and it's been joked by other Silkworms that a Silkworm from Iran or Saudi Arabia wore more weapons than they do clothes. One Iranian Silkworm came back from a mission missing two long knives, a garrote that posed as a necklace, a belt, and a few other items that she left behind with her victims. In the end, she had to dispatch her remaining victims by hand.

In Europe, the French Silkworms were those who constituted the third group, executing their craft with a mixture of efficiency and eroticism. Since they didn't depend solely on the latter, their success rate was higher than the wholly erotic group. The German Silkworms were brutal, specializing in wholesale slaughter. A French Silkworm once joked if you want someone in a village killed, you hired a regular Silkworm. However, if you want the entire village killed, you hired a German Silkworm. After their work was done, the German Silkworms will go home and relax with their twenty-something year-old boyfriend. They have a fondness for young men.

Gypsy Silkworms and African Silkworms were hunters, preferring to chase down their prey, and have crafted their bodies for this purpose. And British Silkworms were just . . . eccentric.

In all, it's a terrible thing to be hunted by a Silkworm, but for DOOM agents, how much more terrible would it be if the whole organization was after you?

Australia ' The Outback

Colton Kelly examined his long-range rifle for at least the seventh time that morning. It was barely daylight, and in a few minutes, one of DOOM's biggest problems would be taken care of, for that country at least. Jessica Dean, one of DOOM's top officers in Australia relayed some emergency plans to Colton's mission leader for times like this. Jessica had used Poison Geisha and Silkworms only sparingly, mainly because she didn't trust them. To her, independent entities like those two assassin guilds would be impossible to control at best, and with them being around longer than both DOOM or COIL, the possibility of they being much more powerful than they have claimed was very likely. Though she knew the higher-ups at DOOM would never approve it at the time, she placed the plans with each of her mission leaders for "just in case." No doubt those higher-ups would approve the plans now, if they were still alive to appreciate them.

The plans described a preemptive strike on any and all Poison Geisha and Silkworm headquarters through all of Australia. With the use of discrete scouting parties, Jessica's men located as many of them as they could find. Jessica probably figured the plans would become active once COIL was eliminated, and the two guilds had the choice of joining DOOM or be destroyed. However, with this declaration of war that they declared on the spy organization a day or two ago, she wasted no time in giving the green light.

The shell in Colton's gun was an explosive round that was the equivalent of a couple of pounds of C-4. The shell would blow up the Silkworm temple like so much firewood, and then any surviving Silkworms would be picked off as they fled the building. The plan sounded so simple, it should've been done a long time before now.

Kayla Hood, the mission leader asked Colton if he was zeroed in on the Silkworm temple. He nodded in the affirmative, as well as the back-up shooter ready to take care of the survivors. Kayla gave the order, just as something that looked like a bat was approaching. Bats weren't unusual at this time in the morning, but this one was headed towards her . . .

"Ma'am, get down!" Colton yelled, and Kayla did, but it looked like the object was aimed to take care of that as it hit her in the face. The impact sent her over the small cliff where they were situated.

"Finish the mission! Finish the mission!" The other gunman shouted as he swung his gun behind them, looking for something, anything to shoot at. Colton prepared to shoot; he looked through the sight, only to find it sailing off the rifle. He picked up the object that hit it. A boomerang? How did the Aborigines get into this?

He grabbed the rifle, prepared to do this the old fashioned way. He only heard one burst of gunfire behind him. He looked down the barrel at the temple, but a numbing pain in his supporting arm caused him to drop the rifle. Another one in his right calf made him stumble to the ground. He looked over, and saw that his fellow gunman was cradling a broken arm. Colton reached for the rifle with his unaffected arm, but a blow glanced off the side of his head, dazing him.

Colton hit the desert floor again, his eyes looking out at the brush scattered along the Outback. He though his eyes played tricks on him because of the blow to the skull, but did the brush move just then? He pulled out his extra revolver and said, "The desert is alive! Get ready!"

"I can't," the other sharpshooter said. "They busted my fingers."

Colton swung his weapon toward the walking sagebrush, hoping to hit one of them, but a trio of boomerangs knocked him to the ground, and damaged his gun hand. Like a scene out of a horror movie, the two men could only watch as the desert background rose up and walked toward them. As they came closer, they turned into dark-skinned, well-toned women.

"Kayla, are you there? Colton? Adam? Is anyone there? Answer me!" Jessica's voice yelled from Colton's radio. A Silkworm clipped it off his belt and answered it.

"Did you really think you could eliminate us that way, Jessica? You forget we've been with your organization for a while; we know how you think," the Silkworm hissed.

"Where's my men?"

"Your two snipers are still with us, but your mission leader seems to have taken a nasty fall. A shame, really."

"You may be safe this time, but right now, your other headquarters and those of the Poison Geisha are being destroyed," Jessica said in her office with some relief.

"Like the temple in Sydney, for instance? Or maybe the Poison Geisha temple in Queensland? Maybe in Perth? We expected something like this from you, so we moved. Even if you hit one of these headquarters, you would've destroyed an empty building. We would've let you do it, but we're quite fond of our buildings," the Silkworm continued, "And your spies are pathetic! We knew the meaning of espionage before your pathetic organization was created!"

Jessica on the other end was speechless. All her planning, her stroke of genius, and it fell through. It was a brilliant plan, what went wrong?

"I think we'll keep your two men. They are one of the few survivors. I don't expect them to give us very much, but I wonder what secrets you can tell us when we get you? I'll be looking forward to that. See you soon, Jessica." Then the line went dead.

Jessica looked at her remaining officers. Without hesitation, she hit the button to the secret emergency exit. Their best option to escape was to leave not just Sydney, but the whole island. They were looking for her and her officers soon, if not now, and the whole country of Australia wasn't big enough for them to hide.

Aborigines, the native people of Australia endured a life of hardship when the Europeans arrived hundreds of years ago. They were forced off their own land, fell victim to European diseases, and when they weren't hunted down or shunned as ignorant savages, they were forced to work on sheep and cattle ranches that weren't their own. They were also forced to adopt other customs and traditions as their own.

Asians also arrived to the continent as well. But for the Aborigines, it wasn't continuous misery in some cases with them; for the Aborigines discovered that Poison Geisha and Silkworms were equal opportunity employers. In fact, employing and training Aborigines were an easy task for both clans. Besides the usual training, the native people were encouraged to hold on to their traditions and even use traditional weapons if they like. Plus, they needed no encouragement to strike back at the very people who persecuted them.

Pleased as being treated as an equal, Aborigines made up the majority of Silkworms and Poison Geisha in Australia and New Zealand.

Like nature, technology does not exist in a vacuum. It is the result of what is needed at the time for a particular purpose. To catch a mouse, you create a mousetrap; to catch a bigger mouse, you build a bigger mousetrap. To catch mice, you either build more mousetraps, or get a snake or better yet a cat to do the deed, and save the builder a lot of work. But what it the mice were able to build some type of offensive that was too much for even the cats? Well, the mousetrap builder would need to go back to the drawing board to come up with something else.

The Poison Geisha had a pragmatic approach to technology: if it works, we'll use it; if not, we'll use what works. They were long feared by even generals of fully trained armies, and in a highly technological age, that hadn't changed. Over hundreds of years, the Poison Geisha knew that a katana sword could still slice, and a blow applied to a particular area of the body still reaped the same results.

The interesting thing about Poison Geisha was although they're skilled at Ninjitsu, practicing camouflage was not one of their strong points. It's almost as if their presence was so obvious, you don't see them, and many don't care if you do see them. It gave the impression of the inevitability of death. Unlike the Silkworms, who's expertise with being invisible was the source of legend, horror stories of seeing the "Red Geisha" became a tale to keep children buried under their covers at night. Little did the parents know that the fairy tale was based in sinister fact.

Even though they didn't seem to use it much, Silkworms didn't shun technology, though sometimes they laughed at it. One Silkworm encountered a high-powered electrical fence surrounding the large house where her target lived. Instead of bothering with trying to go over it, she patiently followed the fence to one of the main junctions, then took a bucket, filled it with water from a nearby stream, and poured it all over the fence controls. She watched the sparks as the controls crackled and popped, then cut her way through the fence and walked toward the house. By the time the groundskeepers raced to the fence to find out what happened, it was too late. It was also too late for the victim as he opened the door out of his bedroom, and saw the Silkworm standing there.

But sometimes there were problems that required solutions a bit more complex. By the time the Poison Geisha and Silkworms met each other, both had their own scientists and mechanics working for them. This would eventually become a separate division, or in the Poison Geisha's case, a clan of their own.

The private arms race between COIL and DOOM actually further boosted technology advances for the Poison Geisha and Silkworms. COIL agents were a big mouse that both clans had to build a better mousetrap for. DOOM had offered many times to trade technologies with the two groups. But the two groups of women assassins haven't existed for so long by being stupid, so they declined. They knew the nature of their employers well enough to know their intentions, and a spy organization with world domination on its mind had the intent to control everything and everyone, including assassins who were working with them at the moment. This was also a reason they only worked for them freelance. They also decided not to tell DOOM how large they really were, in the event that they might one day be in conflict. To quote an old American country song, they knew how to hold them, and knew when to fold them.

Silkworm technology did not go so much into gadgetry as the Poison Geisha does. Their methodology still empathized becoming "invisible," and making the assassination moment still a personal business, and a work of art. Locating their prey, training centers, and hand weaponry was where their technology lie.

Regional DOOM offices, Washington, DC

"We need to hit them now, and hit them hard!" Scott Rock said, banging his fist on the conference table for emphasis. "We shouldn't be waiting for the Poison Geisha and Silkworms to hit us first like everybody else!"

"What would you suggest?" Tonya Dean, a fellow DOOM agent asked.

"A first strike, something that will tell those broads who they're messing with."

William Ripples replied, "I agree, but we're talking about two international organizations of assassins, not an enemy country. At least with COIL, we have a few bases to hit if we desired."

Scott grinned. "Ah, but we do." He walked over to a map of the world displayed on a sidewall and pointed to where Japan was located. "Right here."

The superior officer of the group, Lisa Dogwood shook her head. "I have no desire to get our country into a war with Japan, not to mention putting at risk the many fine agents we have posted there," she said.

"No, hear me out please. In Tokyo, there's a temple where we used to pick up our Geisha assassins. It's a large complex, so it's obviously a training ground and living quarters for many of them. One focused hit there, and we should place a dent in the Poison Geisha's existence."

"We should watch the temple for a day or two to make sure there's nothing unusual going on."

Scott smiled again. "I've had my men watch the place for a week. Nothing suspicious."

Lisa turned to the others. "And what do you think?" She asked.

"A good plan," William replied.

"Burn them," Tonya remarked.

"Scott, I'll place you in charge of this assault. Any questions?" Lisa said.

"Can I start now?" Scott asked.

"As soon as you gather a strike force together."

The helicopter was one of DOOM's own, designed with stealth capability. Launched from one of DOOM's own hangers at their headquarters in Japan, there was no possibility that any foreign powers would be implicated if the plan fell through. It was loaded with four small missiles that were powerful enough to destroy their target without alerting the rest of the country.

The Poison Geisha compound sat by itself on top of a hill in a secluded part of the city, covering several acres. A prime target.

"The temple is on target," the pilot said.

"Fine," Scott said.

The four missiles zeroed in to hit four focal points of the temple. The destruction was total; not one stone was left on another. Scott, the pilot and crew exchanged high-fives all around.

"Mission accomplished," Scott said.

Milo Sui, the head geisha of the Traditional Poison Geisha in Tokyo carried the nickname of "The Gray Fox." The fifty-year-old woman with a wiry figure and prematurely gray hair, carried a reputation for being cunning, and carrying out plans that on the surface appeared unusual, even outlandish, but proved to be brilliant in the long run.

Case in point: The day after the Poison Geisha and Silkworms declared war on DOOM, Milo invited one of the Geisha contractors to the temple, and brought her out to the center, which was an outside area with rock gardens.

"I would like your crew to dig a hole here," Milo said, pointing to a spot that was dead center.

The other officers were used to Milo's machinations by now, so their reaction wasn't a big surprise. The contractor and her crew however were stunned.

"Y-yes, your mistress, but how big and where to?" The contractor said.

Milo drew the dimensions in the sand of a nearby garden. " . . . And once you reach the end, I would like you to build a large building like this one," she said, pointing to one of the general quarters. "And I need you to double your crew please, time is of the essence."

The contractor agreed, bowed, and left, pulling out her phone to call her crew, and to try to explain this peculiar request. As they walked through the temple, Ai, one of Milo's chief officers and close friends walked alongside her.

"Milo, I have been with you long enough to recognize your genius, but I don't understand," Ai said.

"When DOOM goes on the offensive, what is one of the first places they'll hit?" Milo replied. "DOOM wouldn't dare attack this place hand-to-hand, because of our superior hand-to-hand skills and weaponry. They would use something more long-distance."

"I see, but why dig in the middle of the temple?"

"Because even now, DOOM is watching us. No need to check, it's true. If we start in the middle of the temple, they cannot see our movements. We will eventually rebuild this place, but for now, we must go. Our quarry doesn't have to be the only ones with an escape tunnel," Milo replied with a smirk.

The whole process was finally completed in a short time (all done at night), and all personnel were moved as soon as it was finished. Enough of the facility was left for authenticity. The night of the bombing, Milo heard the noises and smiled before laying her head back on her pillow. Tomorrow the fun would begin.

Although the Poison Geisha and those who are allied with them know better, the general assumption by their clients was though their methods were effective, the clan was still stuck in the age of the samurai; utilizing the same tactics and such since the days when a fine sword was the weapon of choice. The traditional Poison Geisha saw no reason to change this misconception. As long as DOOM employed the guild of assassins, a large number of them thought the geisha were landlocked in the past. Scott was no different.

Once the ruins of the temple cooled and was ready to be examined, Scott led his men to shift through the wreckage to find any survivors that might have escaped the bombing. Scott desired to pick them off, but a prisoner might be useful. But as they shifted through the remains, something just wasn't right.

"Is something wrong, sir?" One of his men asked.

"What do you see?" Scott asked.

"I see rubble, the remains of some Zen garden, a few personal effects-"

"Do you see any bodies?"

The realization dawned on the soldier. "No sir, I don't," he said.

"I don't know how, but they escaped, fled this place before we blew it up."

"Do you think there's a leak, sir?"

"No, I picked each man myself. I even made sure they were men just so there wouldn't be any possible feminine sympathy for the enemy. No, they outsmarted us, but not for long."

"Sir!" Another man said, standing on top of a ledge. "There's a large facility a little bit down the hill right there-"

An arrow through his chest, despite the body armor, interrupted his statement. Before his body hit the ground, a rain of arrows descended upon the men. Those who couldn't find cover or avoid the arrows were sliced through. Scott and the man he was talking to found cover. He grabbed one of the landed arrows and examined it. The tip was not unlike a broadhead arrow used for hunting game. The deadly irony was not lost on him. The body armor they wore was state of the art, able to stop most bullets, even armor piercing bullets from a sufficient distance; but useless against a simple steel-tipped arrow. Scott grabbed his radio and contacted his two backup helicopters that he had ready for occasions like this. Let's see how their arrows will do against that!

In a couple of minutes, two black stealth helicopters appeared, hovering over the ruined temple. Scott noticed the arrows have stopped. Naturally; why give your position away? He prepared to order the helicopters to shoot toward where the arrows originated when he saw another helicopter hovering in the distance. The helicopter was designed similar to the two DOOM had, except there was no sign of any weaponry other than some strange looking device that hung below it. Using the binoculars, Scott could see two ladies in black kimonos manning the helicopter.

The Poison Geisha have a helicopter? Scott thought. Well not for long. He started to give the order to fire. There was a high-pitched whine for two seconds, then the helicopter flew away. Scott tried several times to give the order to fire, only to find his radio went dead. In fact, everything electronic on his person, even his digital watch, went dead. He saw this was the case with his men as well.

"Look out! Scatter!" Scott yelled at the top of his lungs. The men caught on quickly and heeded his advice.

The two helicopters with no power to keep them aloft, fell down to the earth with a crash and an upcoming explosion. Though the helicopters did not land on anyone, the combined explosion took out a few more men.

An electromagnetic pulse, Scott realized; somehow the Poison Geisha developed a portable electromagnetic pulse, and with one blast, sent the surviving DOOM operatives back to the Stone Age. Even most of their guns, which use a type of electronic loading system, were useless. They were virtual sitting ducks.

A war cry erupted from all around, and Poison Geisha emerged from the perimeter, wearing what looked like a cross between a ninja outfit and battle armor. The tragic difference between their armor and DOOM's was it was highly effective against the older handguns and service revolvers some of the men carried. The rest had nothing but knifes and fancy looking clubs to fend the assassins off with. The Poison Geisha were armed with katana swords, bo staffs, and sais, nunchakus and tonfas.

The battle wasn't even close. The women were lightning quick in their assault, and before he knew it, Scott was all alone. The only man who wasn't struck down was the man he talked to only a few minutes ago, and he surrendered when sword-welding geisha surrounded him.

Scott fled down the hill in hopes of reaching one of the attack vehicles. The electromagnetic pulse was probably a localized beam, so the hummers should still work, he reasoned. A bolt of pain that slammed into his left shoulder caused him to stumble and fall. A quick check revealed it to be a shirken. The body armor took most of the impact, or his limb might not be hanging off his body. He pulled it out, only to find himself looking up at three Poison Geisha armed with swords, and Milo, dressed in a blood red kimono. Milo gestured to one of them, and she put away her sword and put Scott's arms behind him in a double hammerlock.

"So Scott Rock, is it, all the way from Washington, DC. I suppose I should be honored," Milo said in a lightly accented voice. "But I believe you owe me a training temple."

"Go ahead and kill me, geisha witch, I'm not telling you nothing!" Scott spat out.

"Kill you? Now where's the benefit in that? The one question I need to ask, you don't know. I've found in my years of being a Poison Geisha is I don't have to ask you questions to get what I want, and I don't need to slice you open to hurt you."

"Well then, what are you going to do with me?"

"You are going to bear witness," Milo said simply.

"Bear witness? To what?" Scott said, puzzled.

"To the fall of DOOM, of course. You are going to have the unique opportunity to see how your organization will be eliminated. You will see how your fellow agents will fail, and how they will fall. You will be helpless to do anything but watch. Who knows, maybe when all this is over, you can write a book."

All four ladies laughed at that.

"When I get free-" Scott began.

"Oh spare me," Milo said, waving her hand. "You and COIL must use the same book of quotes. Sun Li, tell the ladies we're through here; it's time to go back to our humble abode. Mr. Rock, we have a special room just for you. It should be to your liking, or at least I hope so, because you'll be staying there a long time."

New Delhi, India

At the temple where the erotic Silkworms train and dwell, a videoconference phone call was received.

"Why Madam Goldie, this is a surprise!" Indri said. She was one of the leaders of the temple. She stood 5'5", with a lean and powerful frame. In fact, in the right light, one could see every inch of the woman from the top of her head to the jeweled toe rings on her feet, courtesy of the thin, transparent light blue sari she wore. Goldie, one of the leaders of the standard Silkworm temple on the edge of town was normally offended by her type of dress, but she expected no less from this group; plus she had an important message to deliver.

"To what do I owe this pleasure?" Indri said.

"I don't know if you were aware, but the Poison Geisha temple in Tokyo was bombed yesterday," Goldie said.

"Oh no, I'm sorry. How did that happen?"

"Someone from DOOM made an air assault."

"Everyone was wiped out?"

"No, that's the funny thing. Before the air strike, Milo had the whole temple delivered through an underground tunnel to another place on the hill. When DOOM's crew came back to search for survivors, the Poison Geisha struck back and killed them all, except for two prisoners."

Indri chuckled. "No wonder she is called the "Gray Fox.'"

"Speculation would indicate that since your temple was DOOM's main supplier of Silkworms in the past, they would be after you next."

"For an air strike?"

"No, not without demolishing the whole block. As you know, the geisha were in a remote location while you are in the middle of town. But they are probably planning some type of invasion, so be ready."

Indri played with the end of her sari. "We have given the matter some thought. When they come, we'll be ready for them," she said.

"Oh? What's your plan of attack?" Goldie asked.

Indri gave an evil grin. "You don't want to know," she said.

"No, I probably don't. Indri, I'm aware that your clan and the other clans aren't on the best of speaking terms, but we are all sisters, and we will help you on this endeavor as much as we can," Goldie said.

"Thank you, but we won't be the ones needing it," Indri said as she ended transmission.

Jonathon Clinton and Caroline Perry were leaders of a fully armed DOOM strike force assigned to invade the Silkworm's lair, an otherwise innocent looking temple in New Delhi. The instructions were simple: capture the leaders, kill the rest, burn the temple. The crew of ten approached the building from each of its four sides. To the surprise of three of the four teams, the doors opened freely, without any opposition.

The fourth team was a team of two whose original mission was to lay explosive charges around the entrance before they went in. From intelligence reports, that entryway was not used very often. As they approached the steps, the first man turned to the second to give instructions, only to find that he wasn't there. Sensing something was wrong, the first man reached for his radio when suddenly a pair of hands reached out and yanked him into a cluster of bushes, where his final screams were muffled.

The inside of the temple appeared to be vacant, quiet, warm, and smoky. The fog-like smoke had a strong, but not overpowering aroma to it. The three remaining teams felt hot, relaxed, and strangely aroused. When this branch of Silkworms returned to the deadly erotic arts, they delved into more than just the physical aspects. They experimented with other things, like chemical warfare. Over the years, their own chemists had developed a few weapons that toyed with the depths of human desire.

The effect of the incense wasn't intended to stop them, just slow them down. The troops wore body armor, but the heat of the temple made it more tempting to take it off, and the effects of the incense tempted them to take off more than that. Becoming aware of what was happening, Caroline grabbed a gas mask and put it on, motioning to Jonathon and the rest of the team to do the same. She also radioed for reinforcements, reminding them to wear their masks.

The temple was dimly lit, so flashlights had to be used. One beam landed on the body of a female in the strike force; her neck was broken. Her armor was off, and she had started to take her undershirt off when she was attacked.

"She was beside me the whole time! How did this happen?" Ron, her teammate said, half spurred by the effects of the incense.

"Put your gas mask on and stay with everybody! We need to wait for reinforcements," Jonathon yelled. The siege was starting to resemble a late-night horror movie; a dark place, really foggy, and bodies appearing here and there, mysteriously. When ten more troops arrived, the remaining members of the first team were escorted to the exits to shake off the effects of the incense; but the doors were locked.

"Shine your flashlights now!" Caroline ordered. "If you see anything suspicious, shoot it!"

They flashed their lights on the ceiling and the wall, finding nothing, even though a few shot at shadows. One man lowered his flashlight, the beam hitting his teammate ' and someone standing beside him. He quickly drew his gun and fired. The bullets narrowly missed his teammate, but ended up hitting one of the female soldiers. The body armor saved her, but she was stunned from the close impact.

"Steven, what's wrong with you! Why'd you shoot Anna?" Julian, Steven's teammate said.

"T-there was someone right there beside you, I swear!" Steven said. "I didn't mean to shoot Anna, you gotta believe me!"

One burly man pulled out his attack knife, dispensing with his rifle. Seeking around with his flashlight, he appeared to be making progress until he went around a dark corner, where he disappeared. The metallic sound of his knife hitting the floor could be heard. As the rest of the troops rounded the corner, they saw no sign of the man aside from his knife, but they saw a stairway that led downstairs.

"What do we do?" Someone asked.

"See what's down there," Jonathon replied.

"Wouldn't it be a trap?" Another person said.

"Not if we stay together. If we stay up here, we'll be picked off. We might as well see what they have for us."

The bottom floor was even smokier than the floor above it. The gas masks only worked so much, while those without masks were squirming like cats and dogs in heat. One female soldier couldn't keep her hands off the male soldier who helped her along. The man, who wore a mask, had the wearying task of looking for a way through the incense, hunting for Silkworms, and fighting the woman off at the same time. Finally, the woman ripped off the man's mask, and ran giggling into the fog. By reaction, more than second thoughts, he chased after her.

The squad leaders started to shout after them, but saved their breath because it was too late. In the next few minutes, everyone was feeling rather amorous. Amorous, aroused, and careless. Those who had hidden feelings toward anyone in the strike force, or for anyone who was breathing, now flaunted them out in the open unashamedly. Two strike force troops, a man and a woman, had already cast off their armor and weapons to engage in a lust-filled frenzied orgy, oblivious to anyone, anything, and any purpose.

One man trying to overcome the effects of the fog, sat by the edge of an indoor pool. He considered taking the water to splash on his face to revive himself when he suddenly saw a figure standing not far from him. It was a woman with long blond hair and white skin that looked so fair, she seemed to glow in the semi-darkness. To add to this effect, she was wrapped in white gauze that was so thin, it looked like she wore nothing at all. She was large, almost six feet, full-figured, and appearing to be a little plump, but as she drew closer, it revealed itself to be well-shaped muscle.

Some part of the soldier's mind told him he needed to draw his weapon, but her speed and strength were deceptive. She took him and pulled him into a warm hug, moving herself slowly against him. Any reserve of self-control fled from the man's psyche, and he started embracing her hungrily.

The woman allowed him to hold her as he kissed her breasts, shoulders, and neck; and then she pulled him close. She kissed him lightly on his shoulders, then made her way to his neck. When she saw her target in sight, she bit it.

And the soldier screamed.

The woman sank her teeth deep into his jugular vein, and gnawed at it like an attack dog gnaws on the leg of an intruder. The man struggled to fight back, but his will and strength were gone, sapped by the effects of the man-made, or rather, woman-made fog. After a few more seconds, the woman released her bite, pausing to turn to the side to spit out some blood and tissue, and pushed the man to the ground. She suddenly noticed she had a small bloodstain on one of her cloths, so she pulled it off and tossed it on the dying man. Wiping her lips with her fingers, she glided back into the fog and darkness.

The cover of the fog hid the carnage that went on in the temple, even though it resembled more of an orgy instead of mass slaughter. In one part of the temple, in what could be considered rape, an Indian Silkworm seized a soldier, ripped off most of his armor and clothes, and mounted him. As they both reached climax, with a quick twist, she broke his neck. In another corner of the temple, a Thai Silkworm was putting one female soldier through the final stages of a tantric knot. The soldier's cries of ecstasy then turned to screams of terror as the knot tightened. A pair of Silkworms originally from Somalia and Pakistan both helped themselves to one soldier who didn't satisfy them. After they nearly broke him in two, they ran off in search of a new soldier who could satisfy their lusts.

Like silent ghosts, the Silkworms appeared to claim their prey, who found themselves almost helpless to react. The sound of screams echoed from different parts of the temple.

As a preventative measure, more DOOM troops were planted outside the temple to either pick off stray Silkworms, charge in and rescue the other troops, or if necessary, to blow up the temple.

"I've tried to get in contact with somebody in there, but I can't get an answer," one female soldier said to her male counterpart.

"I thought I heard someone cry out, but I can't tell if it's us or them," he replied.

"They said if we haven't heard from them in sixty minutes, we need to run in, guns blazing," the third solider said, "unless we get a special signal to blow this joint up."

"How long has it been?" The female soldier asked.

"Fifty minutes."

"Almost time. I'll get the troops ready. It's funny, the forecast called for clear skies tonight. Where did this fog come from?"

Her question was answered, but not in the way it was expected. Slowly and methodically, Silkworms had came from behind and subdued the soldiers, their awareness dampened by the fog. By the time the three soldiers looked behind them, there was no one left who was conscious. Without warning, three Silkworms descended on them, knocking them out.

The Silkworms were immune to the effects of the fog, but they reasoned among themselves why should their sisters inside the temple have all the fun? The scantly clad assassins gathered together all the soldiers, and then brutally raped them.

As the last one robbed a soldier of all his vital juices, she sighed and said breathlessly, "Let our sisters inside brag about their fun! We've had our fair share out here."

A Silkworm who was originally from China, adjusted the sole long black silk cloth she wore while she sat on her victim. She replied, "These DOOM soldiers are like what Americans say about my country's food; no matter how much I eat, I'm hungry for more."

The laughter from the ladies filled the night air.

There was a reason why Caroline and Jonathan were chosen for this mission. Besides both being skilled soldiers, they were also very strong willed as well. That was the only thing that kept them from succumbing from the effects of the fog, but only by a thread. The situation in the temple had gotten past hopeless, and something was interfering with radio transmission. Almost all of the soldiers have vanished, except for the two leaders, and three others.

"What do we do now?" One of the soldiers said, his voice failing to hide his fear.

Only one answer came to Caroline's mind at that time. "Run, and don't look back!" She yelled. No one argued with her as they turned around and ran back the way they came.

On her way out, Caroline saw an Indian Silkworm and a male soldier; both were naked. The Silkworm appeared to be in the throes of passion while she had her strong hands around her prey's neck. Seeing the DOOM leader run by, she gave Caroline a hungry look. Caroline kept running, she knew she couldn't reach him in time.

Jonathan saw another Indian Silkworm with a stocky build, head toward a stairwell with a soldier slung over her shoulder. He thought he heard the soldier pleading, "Please help me," before they disappeared. Jonathan closed his eyes tightly for a moment to try to get the sight out of his mind as he ran, though he knew he never would.

The five soldiers found themselves lying on the front lawn outside the temple. After they saw the ravaged bodies of the soldiers outside, they realized they were the only ones left. After they made a vow of revenge to burn the place down next time, they headed to a nearby helicopter to make the long flight back to headquarters.

"Normally I would say "I don't want to know,' regarding how you took care of DOOM's troops, but I must admit I am curious," Goldie said.

"Very well," Indri replied. She told her about the fog and the carnage afterwards.

"Not the way I would have done it, of course, but in its way, it is rather ingenious. So what was the purpose of leaving the five survivors?" Goldie asked.

"We captured them and hypnotized them into thinking they made it out cleanly. Somewhere during that time, we also had our way with them. We are mostly immune to the fog's effects, but we were subjected to it a long time, and in some ways it was hard to control ourselves . . ."

"Yes, yes, I see. Do go on," Indri interrupted.

"When the five return to headquarters, they will realize they have a burning desire for each other. So much so, they will need to sate this desire in a room with open ventilation. After they finish, they will each smoke a cigarette."

"What if they don't smoke?"

"They do now, and only with our brand of cigarettes. Each cigarette carries a concentrated odorless, clear version of our fog. They will have smoked a few already; now after they consummate with each other, they will smoke two more cigarettes each, leaving the second one half-burning in an ashtray, or whatever will serve for one if this facility is "smoke-free.' Later, they will take their packs and light a few more cigarettes at five different locations. By the time they even guess what is happening, it'll be too late."

"And this will happen after your five DOOM agents sleep with each other?"

"Yes; we call it our "post-orgasmic suggestion.'" Indri laughed.

"So you will have all the spies squirming in ecstasy; what then?"

"I'll send a few of my ladies there to do what needs to be done."

"Do you even know where their office is?" Goldie asked.

"New York, in a small cluster of buildings. As an unexpected side effect, the fog acts as a truth serum also. It's interesting the things people say in the flames of passion. Right now, the DOOM agents are revealing everything to each other from who they have a secret desire for to how they like it. They may even try to live out their fantasies."

"If this reaches the implications I think it could, you won't need to send anyone there; they'll destroy themselves for you."

"Ah, but we're not done with our little lapdogs yet. My ladies will check out the situation and inform me from there."

"Your plan is decadent, but rather ingenious. I may want to try it."

"I wouldn't recommend it, Goldie. Our antidote is extremely limited, and besides, what are you going to do with a group of horny DOOM agents? You're going to kill them anyway, so what does it matter?"

"It may be enjoyable watching them behave like caged wild animals."

Indri grinned evilly. "I might be able to spare some to take care of a small office."

"I'll have a courier pick it up later today. I have a particular location in mind," Goldie remarked.

Have a care, Goldie; the other cocoons might panic if they know you're having a conversation and accepting help from your erotic neighbors."

Goldie paused, then revealed a small grin. "Well perhaps it's time to bury the hatchet."

Early in the Silkworm's evolution, it was discovered that a physically fit Silkworm was a more effective killer than an unfit one. Looks and seduction were effective, but they had their limits. As they looked for new and unique ways to keep themselves in shape, the Silkworms discovered that they had three effective methods of getting in shape besides the martial arts, and they were in front of their faces the whole time. They were belly dancing, yoga, and last, but by no means not least, hard work.

Belly dancing was later discovered by the west to be an excellent exercise for the cardiovascular system. Over 330 calories can be burned up in an hour of performing the exotic dance. It also hardened the core, i.e., the stomach muscles, along with conditioning the legs and arms. Small wonder why men traveled from near and far to see the dancers perform.

It would be needless to say that a belly dancer needed to be in shape to be successful; but then, was there really such a thing as an out of shape belly dancer? Even those who had bodies who were stout or big boned were in great shape and muscular form. Belly dancing was its own exercise; the more you did, the more in shape along with a better shape you have.

From the pages of the archives, one of the early Silkworms was a belly dancer who traveled with a caravan. One day, she received an assignment to assassinate the advisor to a queen who's been a source of trouble to someone in their council. The Silkworm didn't care about that, she only cared about the bag of gold she would earn after the job was done.

After her and her troop performed at the palace, later that evening the Silkworm, dressed in a black belly dancing costume covered with a black silk veil over her facial features, climbed a small wall and entered the advisor's quarters undetected. The advisor was still up and tried to put up a fight, but the scuffle was short, ending by the Silkworm breaking her neck. Her job done, she carried the body of the advisor to the balcony and threw her off. The next morning, the palace was abuzz with the "tragic accident" that happened to the advisor. By that time, the Silkworm had just received her fee and was traveling with her caravan to the next performance.

People of the East have known the physical benefits of yoga for years. Among the benefits were flexibility and strong, supple muscles. Yoga also had other benefits to Silkworms. Normally, the Erotic Silkworms, tying their prey into deadly tantric, erotic knots, used yoga as a weapon. There have been other Silkworms who have used yoga to carry out their deadly purposes, but to the victim, they were far from erotic.

In the archives, there was a Silkworm who for years before had been a yoga practitioner. The Burmese woman had a nickname she went by among her fellow assassins in her cocoon: Boa. "Boa" generally attacked her victims by dropping on top of them, and using her taut muscles either squeezed and crushed, or pulled and dislocated. On some victims, she'd use both techniques, leaving an interesting looking corpse for someone to find.

In Thailand, a man fleeing from his enemies entered that country. His enemies contacted the Silkworms, and the Silkworm cocoon leader contacted Boa to take care of him. The man, about six feet in height, was walking through the forest. Boa, 5'5", dressed in a dark green leotard, dropped from a nearby tree, wrapping him up in her long arms and legs. Boa was also a very methodical assassin, placing one hold on her victims and utilizing it for maximum damage before slowly switching to another complex hold that would create some further damage. On some victims, the sanction could last as long as an hour before Boa finished them off. When she needed to be quick, she'd just crush some vital organ or break them in two.

Boa wasted no time in dislocating the shoulder of her prey's gun hand, and prepared to switch to another hold when her victim somehow wiggled free. He was too worn out to run, so he attempted to attack. This suited Boa just fine. Along with the uniqueness of Boa's grappling attack, she was also an excellent striker. She was able to deliver devastating blows from her hands and feet at close distance. It did not matter how well built the opponent was; Boa could hit them wherever was needed to bring them to their knees.

The man charged Boa with a tree branch held by his good arm to club her. Boa jumped close to him and delivered a left knee lift, breaking his right pelvis. She then delivered a chop with her right hand, breaking his collarbone. His screams filled the forest.

Tiring of the game, Boa stepped behind him, wrapping one arm around his neck, and the other around one of his thighs. She then lifted him off his feet. As he lay across Boa's back, the Silkworm suddenly jerked her arms together, breaking his spine. She let go, allowing the corpse to roll off and land on the ground to be food for the scavengers. For fun on the way home, she folded herself into a box on a cargo flight back to Burma.

When the Silkworms started to enlist common women into their ranks, they saw how the aspect of hard work factored into the making of a fine assassin. The Silkworms originally started among the royalty, and some from the warrior caste. Aside from the warrior caste practicing Kalaripayatlu, a martial art native to India, neither group really had to do anything that made them work a sweat, or get their hands dirty.

India proper, on the other hand, is loaded with farms. The majority of the population was farmers. Most of these farms were small and only tended to by the immediate family. That generally meant the mother or wife had to help tend the farm.

China to follow another example was also a land full of farms and families. Only thirteen percent of the land could be cultivated, which made the sixty percent of the population (farmers) work even harder.

Other countries, such as Mongolia, for instance, engaged in herding and managing livestock. Until more recent times, the country was primarily a country of nomads, not staying put in a particular spot for too long.

Farming was an effective training ground, along with other tasks like forging metal and construction. The rough conditions and grueling labor combined to create a woman who would be much stronger than a woman of mere royal lineage. Combine that with the training skills of the Silkworms, and you have a rather formidable assassin.

Another account from the archives tells of Pam, a farmer's daughter in East Africa. Pam was an only child who helped her parents maintain the family farm. The work was hard, but they were able to make a decent living. Then one day, the father was struck down by disease. A few months later, so was the mother. The tragedy left Pam alone, single, and bitter. The pressure of maintaining a farm by herself was becoming a burden too much to bear, until an Egyptian Silkworm came along.

The Silkworm was looking for potential recruits to strengthen their base in that part of the country, and an apprentice to pass her skills down to. When she saw Pam's strong build created from years of farm work, she knew that was the woman she was looking for.

After further conditioning and Silkworm training, Pam was transformed from a mere farmer's daughter to a powerful messenger of death. Even though her mentor trained her in the use of the stiletto and other small hand weapons, Pam preferred using her bare hands.

There was a crime lord who bragged very often how untouchable he was, because his guards almost always surrounded him, and his home was a virtual fortress. Then one day, one of his many enemies hired a Silkworm.

Pam coiled her dark-skinned stocky 5'8" frame in a clump of nearby bushes, cloaked in black silk. It was midnight, and her prey was returning home from a party, a girl on each arm, and as always, surrounded by his constant guards. A cluster of black smoke bombs combined with tear gas hit in front, back, and in the center of the entourage. The guards stumbled around, trying to find someone, something to shoot, tripping over each other. When the smoke cleared, the young ladies were found screaming and crying over the body of the crime lord, his neck broken like a twig. For Pam, the job was easy; too easy for all that preparation, so she grabbed one of the guards and broke his neck as well, before melding back into the shadows of the night.

Lima, Ohio

Anyone who lived in the Wesley Corners neighborhood would tell you Penny Lake was a nice woman. They would tell you that the sixty-year-old widow always had a kind word to say to everyone she met, she would always help a person in need, and at the community bake sale, she always brought a lemon pie that was to die for. However, if all of Penny's life was revealed, not only would her friends and neighbors be skeptical, they might think you've been out in the sun too long.

Penny Lake was a Silkworm.

In college, Penny married her high school sweetheart, and lived in wedded bliss for around twenty years until his untimely death at the hands of crooks in a robbery gone wrong. With her parents long deceased, and no children, Penny's world started to fall apart. She became more daring and reckless. One day while she was traveling in Tibet, she befriended a lady and told her about what happened in her life. The new friend told her one way her life could be more exciting, and after the proper training, a Silkworm was born.

Ironically, after she became a Silkworm, Penny settled back down in the Midwest, living the life of a well-off widow, attending book clubs and sewing circles during the week, until she had an assignment to hunt down a victim and kill them. Penny stood 5'8", with medium length permed brown hair. She had slightly fair skin stretched over a muscular frame, especially her legs, continuing to gain compliments from young and old men and women alike.

On this day, she wore a gold silk robe as she descended down the stairs to the basement where her personal gym was located. Taking off her robe, revealing a white silk bra and panty, she started lifting weights. She laughed to herself about something her trainer told her. COIL and DOOM among others have tried to find the reason for the Silkworm's longevity power through their advanced age. The "secret" was something doctors and exercise experts have been telling people for years; eating in moderation, and exercising regularly. Using the intense weight training program of the Silkworms, Penny felt better at sixty than she had at thirty.

While she was doing some overhead lifts with a barbell, the phone rang. Penny pressed a button, and the whole basement became a speakerphone. It was an invention a Poison Geisha, a Tech Geisha to be specific who lived in the next town installed for her a while ago. She could talk to the caller like they were in the next room while she did her workout.

"Greetings, Penny; I have an assignment for you," said her North American Cocoon leader.

"Where do I travel this time?" Penny asked. Living in the US Midwest was a rather unusual thing for spies, members of covert organizations, and assassins to do. Like the movies, they generally tended to live in California, New York, or Washington DC. The quality about living away from the larger high-profile cities was during times like the war with DOOM, it was much harder to find the assailant, and a Silkworm can easily blend into the foreground until they're needed.

"That's the good thing; it's in town," the cocoon leader said. "You can take care of it, then come back home in time for that CSI show you watch tonight."

"Really?" Penny replied as she started performing her kata. "Who is it?"

"Logan Bond."

"Logan Bond? That's the young hunk who started working in the loan department of my bank a couple of days ago."

"Well it has been discovered that he is an undercover DOOM agent. You know the drill, sanction with extreme prejudice."

"Mary, I understand the sanction order, but shouldn't we wait until we see what's up?" Penny asked. Being good friends, Penny was allowed to be informal with her cocoon leader.

"Penny, let me put it to you this way; do you really want a DOOM agent in your neighborhood? Of course it's bad enough that we're at war with them, but despite that, if you put one in a neighborhood, he or she would try to take it over, not to mention attract other agents to come in and help them. They're like cockroaches."

"I never thought of it that way."

"Well they want to take over the world after all."

"Such a handsome young man, and he had a full life ahead of him; such a waste. All right, I'll conduct the sanction tonight."

"Call me as soon as you offed him."

"Will do. Talk to you later, Mary."

"Bye Penny."

For the sanction later that evening, Penny didn't wear anything special; just a red sleeveless top and a black skirt, both silk. She also wore a black hat with a wide brim to protect her hair from getting snagged, and like all Silkworms on the hunt, she was barefoot, with red toenail polish on the toes.

Sneaking onto the grounds of his house was no problem. Putting a super-sophisticated alarm system in this neighborhood would raise more answers than questions. He probably wasn't expecting any enemies either. Too bad for him, Penny thought.

Penny entered the house and watched her prey. He entered the living room with a bowl of popcorn, and a glass of red wine. If Penny had any doubts about Logan being a bachelor, this eliminated them. He was wearing only a pair of striped boxers and black dress socks. Penny found herself staring longingly.

What a waste, she sighed silently.

Logan placed the popcorn and the glass of wine on an end table before he prepared to sit down. He was startled when he saw Penny suddenly materialize in front of him.

"Ms. Lake? What are you doing here?" Logan exclaimed.

"A good-looking man moves into the neighborhood, and he has to be a DOOM agent," Penny replied somberly. "Don't try to deny it, my sources are quite accurate."

"How do you know that?"

"I'm a Silkworm."

"A Silkworm here in the middle of Ohio?"

"We're everywhere, Logan."

"Well that's too bad, Ms. Lake-"

"Penny."

"Huh?"

"If we're going to be engaging in combat soon, you might as well know my first name. "Ms. Lane' makes me feel old."

"That's because you are old, while I'm in the prime of my life."

Penny shook her head. "That's the problem with you spy pups. You think just because you're young, you are invincible. Well come and take me on; perhaps you could teach this "old woman' some lessons."

The two got into their fighting stances and faced off in the living room, moving pieces of furniture with their bodies while not taking their eyes off each other so they could move freely.

While Penny was in training to become a Silkworm, she asked to learn a martial art that was fast and effective. The discipline that was suggested to her was the Striking Hydra, created by a Silkworm from Greece as a counter to her targets who displayed boxing skills. The style is almost purely offensive; it's composed of hand, elbow, knee, and foot strikes, along with a few forearm and shin smashes for good measure. When correctly executed, like its namesake, the fight pattern resembled organized chaos, with every limb seeming to strike at once randomly. In actuality, each blow was intended to strike a pressure point, a weak spot, a joint, or something left open. In the hands of a master, even a block would not be safe from the onslaught.

The demands of this style required good conditioning for the frenetic speed and exertion of the blows. The Silkworm took special exercises to take care of that. No matter how old or young the practitioner may be, the style took a lot out of them. Then again, the battles using this discipline were brief, the victim suffering from paralyzed limbs before the Silkworm finished them off at her leisure. And this was the same case with Logan, as he fell to the floor with paralyzed limbs, and wondering how he lost a fight to a woman old enough to be his grandmother or great-grandmother. Penny closed in, and delivered one last blow.

When Logan awoke, he found himself lying on his bed. Just when he thought the whole thing might have been some crazy dream, he discovered that his wrists and ankles were bound, spreading him like an "X" over his own bed. Adding insult to injury, he found that he was naked, or he might as well be; he still had his dress socks on while his boxers hung from one of the bedposts. As he looked around, he saw Penny standing to the side, and she was naked too. It caught his attention that the Silkworm had a nice-looking body for a woman her age. Actually, he knew of many women in their twenties who didn't look that good.

"If you're trying to get information from me, you're wasting your time," Logan said defiantly.

"No, I won't be getting information from you," Penny replied, looking the DOOM agent over.

"So are you going to torture me, then send me back to DOOM as a message?"

"No, you will die, just not right away."

"Then what are you going to do?" Logan found himself growing impatient despite his predicament."

"Such a sturdy, handsome young man," Penny said breathlessly. "It would be such a waste to let that go . . . untouched," she continued as she ran her fingers along his left arm and down his chest.

"What? I'm not going to do that with you! You're crazy!" Logan exclaimed, straining at his bonds.

"No, just horny," Penny said as she climbed on top of Logan, and started chewing on one of his nipples.

Penny was technically affiliated with the North American Silkworms, who like most Silkworms, basically found and eliminated their target, no fuss. She did however manage to receive a few lessons from the Erotic Silkworms in India. This gave her a much more pleasurable alternative to simply dispatching her victims, especially the ones she saw that were attractive. Logan was at first unresponsive to Penny's charms, but over a short period of time, he was no match for Penny's erotic assault. When the time was right, Penny mounted him and kissed him fully and hungrily on the lips. As they coupled, Penny's hands started to circle around Logan's neck. As they reached climax, she gave a loud shout at the same time she broke Logan's neck. The act finished, Penny laid on top of Logan's cooling body.

"You were good, boy; you were very good," she said.

Penny was sitting in the living room on a recliner with her feet up, still nude, sipping on a glass of wine and snacking on popcorn. She was watching CSI on a forty-two inch, plasma screen TV with a matching home theater. Grissom never looked so good. She picked up her cell phone that she laid on the end table. Mary answered on the first ring.

"Hello, did you take care of him?" She asked.

"Yes I did," Penny replied.

Mary recognized that tone. "You did him, didn't you?"

"Such a handsome, virile young man. To let that go would've been such a waste."

Mary sighed. "If you like, I could contact those Silkworms in India. With your appetite, I'm sure they'll be glad to have you."

"Do they have plenty of handsome young men over there?" Penny asked.

"On second thought, I better keep you over here, they couldn't take the competition."

"Mary, could you summon transport, and have them bring a moving van over here?" Penny asked.

"Not a problem; why?"

"Logan has or had a forty-two inch TV and home theater system that would look nice in my living room."

"That would make it look like a robbery, good thinking. Where's the body?"

"Strapped to the bed."

"Okay, kinky robbers. That should confuse them."

"Mary, could I talk to you later? They're getting to the part where they find more evidence," Penny asked.

Mary chuckled. "Of course, Penny. Good work as always. I'll call you tomorrow."

The phone call ended, Penny leaned back further in the recliner, enjoying the feeling of her bare skin against the nice soft leather. She gave a silent toast, and sipped the wine.

The young pup had nice taste in wine, she reflected as she continued watching her show.

As was mentioned earlier, because of the nature of the career and all that came with it, the craft of the Silkworm was not normally something that was passed from mother to daughter, with the exception of a few. However, some of the women were so proud of their profession, they saw it as gift that should be passed on to the next generation. The Silkworm codenamed "Boa" was one of these.

During her long career, the Boa had four children; three daughters and one son. Even though she had children late in life, Boa was still in excellent shape. She eventually traded her profession of professional assassin for being a wife and motherhood, but she wasn't going to let the legacy die with her. While the son was taught by the father the ways of his profession, which was in rice farming, Boa taught her skills to the daughters almost as soon as they could walk. When they became of suitable age, she sent them off to the temple in Mongolia to accomplish their training. Long ago in their relationship, it was established that with the son, Boa's husband could pass off everything he knew, while Boa would pass her craft on with the daughters.

When the last of the daughters reached thirty-five, they were ready to start their new careers as Silkworms. Prior to this time, they worked independently, already completing a few sanctions to further their training. Though they differed in age, all three looked just like their mother, and inherited their mother's flexibility. In honor of their mother's legacy, they each chose names for themselves after a member of the snake family. The oldest one chose "Constrictor," completing her mother's codename, the next oldest chose "Python," and the youngest chose "Anaconda." Unlike their mother, the three sisters worked together, using the same method of execution. It could be argued that they were even more efficient than their mother, which was a feat in itself.

The three assassins were told of a group of five DOOM agents that were hiding out at an alleged safehouse in the city. The orders were to terminate with extreme prejudice. The agents (none of them of any large importance, they were field agents) escaped from a DOOM stronghold that was previously destroyed by the joint efforts of Silkworms and Poison Geisha. The three women had no love for the spy organization to begin with during earlier times, so they saw this as a pleasure to be enjoyed.

"But there are only five of them!" Anaconda complained. "How should we do this?"

"We'll just finish the last two agents together," Constrictor replied.

Hiding in a building in the middle of a well-populated city in broad daylight, the agents thought they would be relatively safe until they either summoned reinforcements or found a way to escape. Unfortunately, the agents forgot about the camouflage capabilities of the Silkworms. Whenever three of the agents wandered a little too close to the shadows, one of the sisters would strike, killing them instantly with a crushing hold. The remaining two agents were captured and spared for a special treat.

The three sisters took the first agent and one would place a crushing leg scissors around the midsection, another sister would place a full nelson around the arms and neck, while the last sister would deliver an extremely painful leg lock. On a silent signal, they would start applying pressure. For the surviving agent, it was nothing short of a living hell. Pain hit from all three areas at once; the legs being stretched out of joint, the ribs and internal organs being crushed, while extreme pressure was placed on the neck. With the exception of the leg lock, in the end it was hard to determine what killed the agent first, the neck being broken or the internal injuries from the leg scissors. The last surviving agent begged and pleaded to the three to be killed immediately.

"If there were six or three of you, we would grant your request," Python explained. "However, there were five of you, and three of us. We like to share our kills, so it was decided while we killed three of your number on the spot, we would share in the demise of the last two. That way, except for the one who drew the position of locking the legs, it would be hard to determine what killed him first. And now, it's time for you to depart this mortal coil."

The three sisters laid the agent out, and changed positions to deliver the same method of execution, gaining the same result. After the last agent died, the three sisters locked arms together, in silent celebration of their conquest.

"Our mother would be pleased," Python said.

Back in Washington, the three officers gathered to discuss what happened in Tokyo.

"We haven't heard from Scott in a week, so we must assume the worst has happened," Lisa said.

"But according to satellite photos, the temple was destroyed. What happened?" William asked.

"We may never know," Tonya said.

The videoconference screen suddenly came to life, startling the three agents, and the smiling face of Milo appeared on the screen.

"Hello," she said.

"Let me end the suspense by answering your questions. Yes, thanks to your fellow agent, my temple is destroyed. How did I escape? We moved. Not hard, really. I just contemplated what I would do in your position. I would've done the same thing. As for your agent-"

"You'll never get away with this!" Tonya exploded. "We'll make you pay for what you've done to Scott!"

Milo dismissed her with a wave of her hand. "Oh please, Tonya; your organization and COIL must read from the same phrasebook," she said. "As I was saying, Scott is right here."

She stepped back, revealing Scott sitting in a chair, unharmed, and not too happy about being there. A geisha guard stood beside him.

"Outside of a few superficial cuts, he is unharmed. Say hello, Scott."

Scott exploded, calling the Poison Geisha every name he could think of, and threatened to blow their new temple up, skin the geisha alive, etc. After about half a minute, Milo made a hand movement, and the geisha guard placed a hand on his mouth.

"Yes, he's fine," William said.

"What are you going to do with him?" Lisa asked.

"Why nothing. I'm just giving him a ringside seat to DOOM's destruction," Milo said, moving back in range of the camera. "He'll just stay here until it's over. I've also found out back in the days we worked together, you don't know anything about us."

"Oh really; such as what?" Lisa asked, giving a hidden hand signal to William to trace the message.

"Well, speaking for myself, I have three master's degrees and I'm working on a fourth in Electrical Engineering. Like yourselves, I speak several languages; I'm working on Russian right now. I know five martial arts, plus I invented five martial arts of my own. I enjoy the sporting event you have in the states known as "March Madness.' It's quite exciting. Would you like to know how much I can lift?"

"Why would we be interested in what you're interested in or any of you geisha?" Tonya said.

"I just find it interesting that you still think we live in the dark ages," Milo continued. "I suppose while you and COIL are killing each other, you think we're sitting in our temple doing origami or waiting on your beck and call."

"I don't expect a mere assassin like you to know how the spy game is played," William responded. "If you can't take it, then get out."

Milo laughed. "You're right about one thing, it is a game. A game neither of you can win, but you don't want to hear that. You forget we've been here a lot longer than you."

"What else about yourself would you like us to know?" Lisa asked, trying to keep the assassin talking.

"My favorite color is purple. You know William, you'd look much better if you took your glasses off."

William froze for a moment, surprised by the compliment.

"Before I contacted you, I double-checked your backgrounds. None of you are married, or have any relationships, or any children. Convenient."

"What do you care if we have kids or not?" Tonya reacted. "If you try to harm them-"

"Tonya!" Lisa interrupted.

"Thank you Lisa," Milo said. "I think Tonya has us confused with the Mafia. We don't do things like that."

"Why did you check our backgrounds?" Lisa said, noting that William got a fix on the signal.

"To see if you would be missed. Aside from fellow DOOM agents, not really."

"DOOM agents are hard to kill."

"Again, you misinterpret me. You see, Scott, though he honors us with his presence, is a poor conversationalist. All he does is threaten us and call us nasty names."

Scott, who looked bored throughout most of the conversation, perked up. Something was going on, but what?

"I know you've been keeping me talking to locate me, but it really doesn't matter. A conversation runs both ways."

"I found it!" William whispered.

"You see," Milo went on, "The problem with Scott here is that he's lonely. So I thought the best way to solve that is to give him some company."

Scott bolted from his seat, yelling at the camera. "End transmission! End transmission!" He said, before he was restrained again.

"Doesn't matter. Goodbye all, or rather, see you later," Milo said smiling.

"End transmission!" Scott yelled, "She knows where you are-"

And then the screen went blank, the lights went out, and the whole world went black.

So how did the Poison Geisha and Silkworms meet?

Poison Geisha in Japan and Silkworms in India have heard about each other, either by hearsay, or by evidence. Both admired the others handiwork, and both had a desire to meet the other to share notes, and to see for themselves who these assassins were.

A long time ago, a Japanese Poison Geisha journeyed to India, and tried sending out feelers to arrange a meeting with a Silkworm. It took some doing, but the Poison Geisha finally obtained an address to a temple. She set foot inside, and met her first Silkworm (these were the standard Silkworms; this meeting took place long after the Silkworm and Poison Geisha meetings).

Over a cup of tea they shared many things, especially about their line of work. This led to meetings between the lead geisha and Cocoon leaders, and eventually conference meetings involving both clans. Neither clan saw the other as competition. One wise Silkworm quipped that there are plenty of targets for everyone.

Though their methods were different, the two would share tips with each other. Both groups eventually saw each other in a familial relationship. The Silkworms would see the younger Poison Geisha as their "honored daughter," while the Poison Geisha would see their elder fellow assassins as their "honored mothers."

When Lisa came to, she felt like she woke up from a bizarre dream. Seeing that she was in a strange room, and her two senior agents were stirring, it was no dream. Sitting herself to an upright position, she tried to piece together what happened.

After Milo's broadcast ended, the whole world seemed to stop running. The computer at her console blacked out, the lights and electricity in the room ceased to exist, and even the lighted dial of her digital watch stopped working. No windows were in the room, so it was pitch black. She heard Tonya pull out her gun, only to be rebuked by William to put it away, lest she hit one of them. Lisa thought she heard gunfire followed by a wail of agony (a male cry, she remembered). Finally she heard and saw the door open. Since there was no electricity, the magnetic locks didn't hold. The door opened only a crack, and three marbles or objects shaped like marbles rolled in. They exploded, releasing a gas, and Lisa's last thoughts were how come the backup generators didn't work.

She saw Scott sitting there, waiting for them to fully awaken. He explained that the Poison Geisha had an electromagnetic pulse device that they aimed at his men. He also told of the absurdity of their state of the art bulletproof body armor being penetrated by arrows, swords, and throwing stars. Milo shortly explained to him after they went off the air that they also had an electromagnetic "bomb," so the device on the helicopter wasn't necessary. Neither was the conversation, though Milo admitted it was fun seeing them trying to track the signal, knowing it wouldn't matter, since the bomb erased any and all electronic data completely. Lisa's watch was nothing more than a bulky bracelet now.

So where were they?

"Welcome to Japan," Scott said, seeming to read her mind. "This is the new facility or temporary headquarters, I forget which."

"How many times must I tell you Scott, it's our temporary headquarters, soon to become an add-on when we rebuild the old temple, unless you agents want to blow it up again," a voice said from a doorway. It was Milo and two of her seconds in command.

"No matter what you do, we're not going to talk," Tonya said defiantly.

"As I told Scott already, the only question I want to ask you don't have the answer to," Milo replied. "Though I suspect you want to know the answer as much as I."

"Then why are we here? What are you going to do with us?" Lisa asked.

"As I told Scott, nothing at all. You are to be my guests, or rather house prisoners to be exact. While DOOM is being destroyed, the four of you will have free reign. You can go anywhere you want except outside the complex, or my quarters."

"Why can't we go in your quarters?" Scott asked.

"If I was in your house, would you want me in your room?"

When Scott had no response, Tonya said, "So you're not going to torture us, we're just going to stay here until the war is over."

"Yes. My teacher once told me sometimes that the best torture is to do nothing. You don't understand now, but you will later. Dinner will be ready in half an hour. Enjoy your stay."

As she left, Tonya turned to Scott.

"So what's keeping us from escaping right now? What's keeping us from overpowering the guards and getting out of here?" She asked.

"We're in a Poison Geisha temple, Tonya," Scott said.

"But they're unarmed."

"They're Poison Geisha, Tonya. They don't need to be armed," William explained. "Running off half-cocked will get us killed."

"Right now our best course of action is to sit back and do nothing," Lisa said. "We'll wait for now."

"I agree. I've had constant supervision ever since I've been here," Scott said. "They rotate on a regular basis, and there's a lot of them. I haven't had the same guard twice so far."

"They don't miss a trick," William replied.

"There's one other survivor besides myself, but he's in the infirmary right now. He should be out I a couple of days, eh, so to speak."

"I'm not sure I understand how she's going to hurt us, without hurting us," Tonya said.

"A train wreck," Lisa explained.

"What?"

"It's like watching a train wreck or car crash. You know it's coming, but you are helpless to stop it. Milo made us spectators instead of participants."

"So what do we do?"

"Stay focused, remember why you're here. Scott, how is the food here?"

"Not bad; excellent as a matter of fact."

"Good, then let us eat. I can plan better on a full stomach."

One can say the Poison Geisha are a number of things, but thieves are not one of them. The clan has no problem sharing their technological assets with their allies, but that's with their allies, not the people they work for. The Poison Geisha have a code of honor about technological matters:

1.

1. Unless they are an honored ally (like Silkworms, Lionesses, etc.), the knowledge is top secret.

2. No Poison Geisha will attempt to gather information about a client's technological advances. That violates the assassin/client relationship, and the Geisha have no interest in what their employer was cooking up anyway.

3. and . . . The Poison Geisha takes a dim view toward anyone, even an employer who attempts to or have stolen their technology.

Regarding the third category, just before the start of the war, in Japan, a group of DOOM agents and scientists managed to capture and strip a Poison Geisha of her weaponry, her kimono, and even her wooden hairpins. Clad in only her undergarments, the Poison Geisha managed to escape, but that was not too big a concern to the group of agents, who had won the jackpot. Looking over their findings, they took the Geisha's belongings to the closest DOOM facility so the scientists could examine the contents more closely. For while the Poison Geisha held a code of honor regarding these things, DOOM does not operate on the honor system. If it is to their advantage, they'll glean information from anyone, anywhere, ally or not.

As they examined their findings, the group of agents and people in Research and Development didn't realize the Poison Geisha took such an act so personally; at least as personal as the device in one of the corner hems of the kimono seemed to indicate. Years ago, in order to be aware of a Poison Geisha's whereabouts, the Tech Geisha created a device that not only tracked a Poison Geisha's movements, it also kept track of their vital signs. Each Poison Geisha was taught how to turn the device off; for if the kimono was taken off by force, as was the case of the Geisha named Coco, it sends out a silent alarm back to her headquarters. When the staff back at the temple saw two different signals far apart from each other, they sent Transport to look for the non-flashing signal. After they found a very cold, very embarrassed, very angry, and very exposed Coco, the story was told of the Poison Geisha responding to a job offer from an unspecified location, then being hit with knockout gas as soon as she entered the door. When she awoke, her bra and panties were the only clothing she has on. She overtook two guards and outmaneuvered a search party to make her escape. When she found out the temple was called to tell them that a COIL agent killed her, Coco was livid. Being a Tech Geisha herself, Coco swore if they want technology, she'd give it to them forcefully.

While they noticed the device, one of the engineers glanced at the monitors, and wondered for a moment if she was going mad. On the screen she saw a guard standing in the hallway one second, then flying against the wall the next, thrown by ' nothing. She got the attention of everyone else in the lab to show them the bizarre sight of guards throwing themselves to the floor and grimacing in pain for no reason.

The two "ghosts" who were tossing people around were two Tech Geisha by the names of Wendy and Patricia. Wendy was a 5'5" Japanese native with black hair just long enough to hold her wooden hairpins in place. She had a stocky, powerful build. Patricia was white, 5'8", had a long and lean build, and had wavy brunette hair that was fashioned into a short pigtail that was also held in place by wooden hairpins. The two met while attending one of Japan's finer technological colleges. While Wendy and her family were native born, Patricia's parents were originally US businessmen who worked at the Japanese branch of their company. They liked Japan so much, they decided to stay permanently. Shortly after their decision, Patricia was born. But it wasn't at the classes that the two met, it was while they attended the school's aikido and kendo classes taught by one of Japan's finest teachers. The two became close friends and did everything together. In fact, the Poison Geisha scout made it a point that they were hired together too.

After they were hired, the clan mistress told them that they would be trained in karate and ninjutsu. The two women said they were at that point fifth degree black belts in aikido and kendo. The mistress pointed out that while kendo was fine, aikido with its circular movements was an effective form of self-defense, but it wasn't aggressive or deadly enough for a Poison Geisha. The duet offered if they could convince her aikido could be deadly in its own right, would she consider letting them use it. The mistress agreed and they demonstrated with a few techniques and "taking the brakes off," aikido could be quite deadly indeed. For unlike most martial arts, aikido teaches the practitioner how not to hurt their opponent, keeping with the original nonviolent philosophy of the art. It was one of the reasons why it took longer to gain a black belt than it did with judo or karate. After a few "nonviolent" demonstrations of how "violent" the art could be, the clan mistress was convinced. The point was further proven by the number of successful missions they've been on when they're not in the lab.

The duet agreed to go with Coco because they were good friends with her for one reason; the other reason was because a good part of the technology used in the weapons and other gadgets were created by them. Not happy with having their technology stolen, they looked forward to telling the DOOM people what they really thought of tech scavengers.

They wore an adaptation of an aikido workout outfit with long sleeve white blouses, and long black skirts. They wore black belts around their waists, which also doubled as scabbards for their katana swords. As was their custom when they entered a facility on a mission, they took off their zori sandals and moved barefoot through the facility. On their belts, they also had attached a "ghost" receiver that made them invisible to almost any type of surveillance. On a TV monitor, it was like guards or anyone else was attacked by an unseen source, hence the "ghost" being part of the name.

Taken off guard, the researchers and guards were no match for the duet who took their force and directed it against them. For those who were able to draw a weapon, they would end up cut down by their swords.

While Wendy and Patricia flipped and sliced their way through the facility, Coco entered the facility from the ceiling, landing on the floor among a group of startled scientists. As they alerted security that another threat had entered the building, Coco stood and waited. She had placed the finishing touches on her latest invention prior to her abduction, and she couldn't wait to try it out.

The 5'6" Coco was dressed in what appeared to be a black bodysuit. The legs were footless, with a sensor that was planted on the ball of each foot. A similar sensor placed on the bottom of each palm. Each sensor had firmly planted thin wires that were hooked up to the bodysuit. When she saw security arrive, Coco hit a hidden switch on the belt. As a result, a low humming noise could be heard.

Sprinting toward her foes, Coco landed between two men, and delivered a right heel palm blow to the guard's chest in front of her, and a back kick to the chest of the guard behind her. For a second, everyone froze, for it appeared that the men Coco hit disappeared, until a scientist saw what was behind her. The heel palm blow and kick alone was enough to break a rib, but what they saw was the first guard slammed so hard into the wall, he was almost imbedded there. They couldn't tell if he was alive or dead, but there was no time to pull him loose. The second man flew over tables and chairs until he finally landed out cold. The speed of his flight took out another guard.

This was what Coco had titled her "shock suit." The outfit was fitted with a micro generator that sent a sufficient charge of electricity that was released through its sensors. Anyone on the receiving end of a kick or a chop would receive a nasty shock, hence the name.

One guard pulled out his gun. Coco just touched it. The touch almost electrocuted him from the metal of his own gun, not to mention straighten out his curly hair. Coco's back kick missed another guard, but her foot hit the metal table the guard leaned on to duck. The results were the same.

As Coco kept delivering her electrically charged punches and kicks, the security guards and scientists found themselves backing up, trying to stay away from metal and anything else that conducted electricity. Not being able to recall their early science lessons in time, they were easy prey.

The remaining scientist who was conscious, barked at two incoming agents to put on one of the protective radiation suits that could shield them from electrical charges. They were not to use their firearms unless absolutely necessary lest they hit some valuable data. Coco wasn't deterred. She couldn't shock them, but beating them was no problem. Her shock suit allowed for maximum flexibility and agility. One agent fell to the floor defeated. The other barely held her own.

Just then, Wendy and Patricia arrived. Seeing the two, Coco motioned to them. Wendy tossed her sword to the tech Poison Geisha. Catching it by the handle, and gripping part of the blade with one hand, Coco made a lightning-quick slash at the DOOM agent. She only made a superficial cut on the left arm, but it was more than enough. The metal of the blade delivered the electricity that knocked her out.

Coco turned to the scientist who started looking for a place to run. She stalked her until she suddenly stopped. With a slight grin, she then laid her right hand on the side of one of the mainframe computers. Sparks flew from all directions.

"Nooo!" The scientist screamed.

Patricia came to Coco with her stolen kimono and the accessories that came with it. Coco turned off her suit and put her kimono on.

"Thank you," she said to her friends who nodded back.

"What about her?" Wendy asked, pointing to the scientist who was weeping over her damaged computers.

"What about her? I have just disposed of all her cataloged information about my equipment, plus months or maybe years of data of DOOM research. For her, or techs like us, that's a fate worse than death," Coco replied.

The three turned and left out the front way, so Wendy and Patricia could pick up their sandals at the front door. They later reported the incident, but they were told in response that DOOM would soon pay for a number of things, including stolen technology.

Tokyo, Japan

William walked down a hallway, examining the artwork when he heard someone call his name. He turned, and he saw Milo waving to him from a room. When he arrived, he saw the Poison Geisha in a dark blue evening gown. Her hair was down, and William realized how beautiful she really was. She wore blue sheer stockings, but had not placed her shoes on yet. She smelled of fresh flowers.

He snapped himself out of it, and asked, "Yes; hey, what's the occasion?"

"I have a date," Milo said, looking in a mirror and catching William's shocked expression. "Yes, we Poison Geisha have a social life too. You didn't think we stayed cooped up in here all the time, did you?"

"I never thought, I mean, it never occurred to me," William started, but when he realized he didn't have a good answer to that, he asked, "Why did you call me?"

Milo finished her primping and said, "Come here."

William found himself coming forward, despite himself. Milo was staring directly into his eyes, making him a little uncomfortable.

"Milo, I don't-"

"Shh," she replied, reaching for his glasses.

Before he could object any further, Milo was holding his glasses, looking at them, and then looking at him.

"I was right, you do look better without glasses," Milo cooed. "I'll call the optometrist tomorrow. She'll put you in some contacts."

"Why are you doing this?" William asked.

"Because you are my guests, after a fashion, and despite being a cold-hearted assassin, I'm an old romantic at heart. Tonya should notice you now."

"What?" Said a shocked William.

"I noticed the way you look at her, and how your heart seems to skip a beat when she walks into a room, even long before I brought you here. If you stopped being all businesslike, then maybe you'll see she's interested in you too."

"I, I gotta go," William said, taking his glasses from Milo and leaving the room.

The Poison Geisha giggled to herself as she checked her watch and left.

New York, New York

The black Hummer pulled in front of the office building. As it stopped, three Silkworms came out and strode leisurely to the front door. After aborting the attack DOOM made on their temple a few nights ago, they were anxious to see how well their plans turned out.

The three Silkworms were dressed a little more appropriately, but not by much. They consisted of a six-foot blond woman who was full-figured and plus-sized. She wore a white silk sari that looked like she was wrapped in linen. Unlike the night in New Delhi, they weren't transparent. The second one was a woman of Chinese decent, standing 5'5" with long black hair and an athletic build. Dressed in a long black silk cloak, she was the mission leader. The third Silkworm was an Indian woman of 5'5" with a slimmer build, wearing a blood red sari. As customary whenever they're on a mission, all three were barefoot.

"I don't expect much opposition to greet us today," the Chinese Silkworm, whose name was Zhu, said, as she opened the door to the building.

The first security guard, a little surprised that Silkworms would show up in broad daylight in the front door, approached them, drawing his weapon. Helga, the blond Silkworm moved quickly, grabbing the guard's gun hand and twisting it, causing him to drop his gun as his wrist was broken. She then threw the guard against the wall, knocking the air out of him. Helga then dragged him to a corner, where she placed one large hand over his face and smothered him. Rita, the Indian Silkworm, swung one end of a weighted scarf, hitting the second guard in the face. As he stumbled to the ground, Rita mounted him and delivered a killing blow.

As she strolled toward the frightened receptionist, Zhu said, "Just a smother this time, Helga? After the last time, I wondered if you were showing signs of vampirism."

In a husky voice with a Russian accent, Helga replied, "I wanted to try something different, however it's not as romantic as Brian Stolker or Anne Rice makes it. Besides, I ended up with blood all over one of my cloths." As an afterthought, she dropped the guards' body. "If I try it again, it'll be while I am nude."

"There's a third one coming, Zhu; you want him?" Rita asked.

"Sure, why not?" Zhu replied, then turned to the receptionist. "Unless you are desperately trying to reduce the number of living security guards, I'd recommend you stop calling them. Helga, could you take over her post while I take care of this last guard? It won't take long."

While Helga towered over the cowering receptionist, the third guard ran in, wondering why there weren't more guards. Zhu in one fluid move disarmed him and embraced him in a warm hug.

"There's nothing going on here, baby; I just wanted someone to be with me. Will you stay with me?" Zhu whispered hotly in his ear.

Although the woman's embrace felt nice, the guard had a job to do. He knew something was wrong when he found he couldn't break free of the Silkworm's embrace. Zhu pushed the guard against a wall.

"No, please don't go. Stay with me." She started grinding her waist against his while planting light kisses against his neck.

The guard was aroused despite himself, but he still focused on freeing himself. Suddenly he felt his ribs starting to cave in. Zhu was already in the throes of intense passion.

"I want to feel your body next to mine, oh!" Zhu breathed.

The more her passion grew, the tighter her grip became. By the time she climaxed, blood leaked from the guards' nose and mouth because of internal bleeding from ruptured organs and broken ribs. After Zhu finished, she laid the guard against the wall and leaned against one herself, panting.

"I know it was good for me, however I don't think it was for you. I don't know if the hospital will be able to stitch you up in time, but maybe we'll call one for you. You won't be alone," she said.

"We won't harm you," Rita said to the receptionist, "if you do what we say."

"I don't want to harm her, she has nice eyes," Helga said, stroking the receptionists' hair.

"Why don't we wait until we go upstairs before you claim somebody?"

"You just want her for yourself. I claimed her first."

"Ladies, there will be enough for everybody," Zhu said, fully recovered. "Dear, why don't you switch to the security cameras upstairs where administration is? There, see? That's why you only had three guards come to your aid."

The area of the building where the agents and administration dwelt resembled a large orgy, reminiscent of Sodom and Gomorrah.

"What did you do?" The receptionist gasped.

"We just revealed what was already there," Helga said, sniffing the receptionists' hair. "Look, there's already a few wounded lying around, and two women in a catfight."

"Over what, I wonder?" Zhu asked.

"See that naked man sitting at his desk? It's over him," Rita said.

"What I need you to do is to assemble all the staff so we can speak to them. No agents, no bosses. Helga will accompany you. Go now," Zhu ordered.

Helga took the receptionist by the hand and led her to a nearby elevator.

"You think she'll be able to turn her?" Rita said to Zhu.

"With Helga, she won't have a choice. She's been looking for a girl toy to match her boy toy anyway, so she should be pretty happy."

"Were you serious about calling an ambulance?"

"For the agents? No; I was thinking of the non-combative staff we'll take with us." Zhu looked at the body of the guard she subdued. "For him, I already knew it was too late. In either case, let's see what's upstairs. I think our sleeper agents have been very busy."

The fog was very strong on the upper floor. People were either lying about in post-orgasmic bliss, currently conducting such business that would lead to that, or on the prowl, looking for such things. Zhu had to deliver a nerve pinch to someone who propositioned her.

"It was a good idea to tell one of them to damage the communication equipment," Rita said. "But from the look of things, I don't think there's anyone in their right mind to operate it."

When the two Silkworms found Jonathan and Caroline, they were each in a corner making out with someone. Jonathan was with a receptionist from his boss' office, while Caroline cornered a young man from the mailroom, almost eating him alive.

"Jonathan, Caroline, cease! Your mistress commands you!" Zhu said.

Immediately, both agents stopped what they were doing, and came to the two assassins. Zhu had her arms open wide to welcome Jonathan. As they embraced, she whispered into his ear, "Report." Rita done the same with Caroline. After they finished, the two ladies released them to continue what they were doing.

"Aren't we going to kill them?" Rita asked as they returned to the elevator.

"Whatever for, they're having fun!" Zhu replied. She tossed a couple of capsules that broke open as the elevator closed.

"You gassed them some more!"

"Their lives as spies are over already. And the fun part is unlike being drunk, they will remember everything. They may never trust each other again. Now let's go and see what's downstairs."

The front door receptionist with Helga close behind had the remaining staff standing when Rita and Zhu arrived.

"Attention! Your office building has been taken over by Silkworms. Be good and no harm will come to you," Zhu said.

"Any of you who are married or are in a long-term relationship, raise your hand," Rita said. After a moment's hesitation, a few raised their hands. "Go home, find another job, start a new life."

Zhu looked at the staff that remained until she saw a mousy looking black woman. She was dressed painfully conservative, and started to cringe under the Silkworm's gaze.

"You I'm going to turn into a Silkworm," she said.

The woman looked at Zhu, confused. "M-me?" She asked.

"I used to be just like you, a secretary in a big office, a nobody. Now look at me!"

Zhu opened her cloak, revealing a black string bikini. The very sight made a young man from the mailroom drop his clipboard.

"But I'm twenty-eight; I'm too old-"

"I'm forty-two. You come with me, and I'll change your life."

Not to be outdone, Rita pointed to an athletic looking woman. "Then I shall make you a Silkworm," she said.

The men from the mailroom pleaded. "Please ma'am, we don't want to die," one of them said.

Zhu asked the secretary, "What's your name?"

"June," the secretary replied. Zhu pointed to the man.

"Then you will be June's slave. You beside him will be that woman's slave-"

"Diane," Rita said, looking at the woman's nametag.

"Thank you. You will be Diane's slave, and you with the clipboard, you will be my slave."

"Slave?" He asked.

"Yes; being a Silkworm's slave has many benefits, which I'll be glad to show you tonight. The rest of you, if you want to join us, come with us; the rest of you, go home and mark this day, for you'll never see DOOM like this again."

Later, Zhu contacted the cocoon in India to report the success. Rita trotted over to her.

"Zhu, it appears that DOOM's branch offices are sending people over to see what's wrong. We need to go," Rita said.

Zhu soon ended transmission. Then we go, we're finished here. Where's Helga?"

They looked around until they saw some movement in a corner. They could see Helga's cloths waving in the breeze and the frantic struggles of the receptionist.

"It looks like Helga is enjoying her present a little early," Rita said.

"Blast that woman, I can't take her anywhere! Helga, you can have her later, we've got to go!"

Tokyo, Japan

The four DOOM agents relaxed in the den of the Traditional Poison Geisha temporary headquarters, watching a sporting event on satellite TV. Their stay was nice; in fact, the service was better than some of the finest hotels they have stayed in. A few times they almost forgot they were house prisoners and could not leave the premises. Their only contact with the outside world was the international news on television, where they would hear of another building under a "terrorist attack." Both parties knew full well the "terrorist attack" was in reality a DOOM facility under the attack of Poison Geisha and Silkworms.

After a few days, the only remaining soldier in Scott's original assault team was released and sent to the agents from the infirmary. He told them he received excellent care, better than most hospitals.

During their stay, they discovered the headquarters was a hub of sorts. During their brief stay, the agents saw a wide variety of Poison Geisha and some Silkworms pass through. One officer of the Steel Geisha looked the five of them over, and told the Gray Fox they would not make good practice dummies for her women because they "looked too frail."

Mike Roberts, the soldier, asked, "So this is what we're going to be doing until the war is over, watching TV and eating sushi?"

"Pretty much," Scott replied.

"I don't get it, why couldn't we overpower that one chick on the far end of the room, break a window, and run out of here?"

Scott got up, motioned for Mike to follow him, and they walked to a viewing window. He pointed at one lone woman standing in a small tower with a bow slung over her back.

"You see that woman in that tower?" He asked.

"Yeah I do, boss, but I see only one," Mike said.

"Correct, you only see one. There are actually five to ten of them hidden in the woods. It's that way at the other four towers too. And you remember those arrows, don't you? The ones that pierce our body armor? I hate to think what they can do to raw flesh. So yes, until we're released or an opportunity somehow presents itself, we're stuck here, got it?"

"Yes boss."

"Good; now hold your tongue about escape plans until I say otherwise. You never know when someone might be listening."

"Yes sir," Mike agreed as they walked back to the den.

William reclined in his seat and turned to Tanya. "I never realized there were so many types of Poison Geisha," he said. "I mean, Mexican Geisha? Who'd thought of that?"

"Apparently some enterprising Poison Geisha saw a "need' in Mexico, and started a branch there. Sort of like what Wal-Mart# does," Tanya replied.

"I prefer to think of it as a Fortune 500 company model," a voice said behind them, startling them.

"Geez, Milo, do you always have to come in like that? Can't you knock or something?" Scott sputtered out.

"But then I would miss the sound of your voice, Scott," Milo replied. Lisa giggled in the background.

"So Milo, we were just wondering how many kinds of Poison Geisha there were," Lisa said, turning from the TV. You never told us there was a wide variety."

"That's because you never asked, Lisa. Besides, I couldn't tell you because I myself am not sure. There are some I'm just learning about. Apparently the appearance of the Mexican Geisha spurred this discussion."

"I thought your organization was, uh, Japanese only," William said. "A Mexican Geisha seems out of place, like a blond-haired Poison Geisha."

"We stopped being "Japan only' a long time ago. In fact, this clan is the only one that is supposed to be Japanese traditional. But before I became the leader here, the outgoing leader told me times were changing, and we should change with them on some things. She apparently read my mind, because I planned to do that anyway. It used to be no one other than those of Japanese heritage could enter past the frontcourts. As you saw with the Mexican Geisha, that is no more."

"Really?" Lisa said.

"Yes, and we do have a few "blond-haired geisha,' and a few weeks ago, we recruited our first black Poison Geisha," Milo explained.

"Why so long with blacks?" Scott asked.

"Competition. Blacks are rare in Japan and China, plus the Silkworms and Lionesses grab them before we do."

"Lionesses? Who are they?" Lisa asked.

"Our sister group in Africa, but enough about that. I came here for training and entertainment. Mike, are you back in fine fighting shape?"

"Yeah," Mike said. "What's up?"

"Everyone, come with me," Milo replied, beckoning to them. The group entered a dojo-like facility, complete with soft mats. A small crowd was gathered.

"You want me to fight somebody?" Mike asked.

"Yes, her." Milo pointed to a woman entering the mats. She was 5'2", and plus-sized. A blue kimono robe covered her form.

"You want me to take on this fireplug?" Mike said derisively. "Is this a joke?"

"Mike!" Lisa said.

"It's all right," Milo said. "Mike, this "fireplug' is a new Poison Geisha who wanted to test her skills in combat against an actual DOOM agent, or soldier in this case, since they are trained to fight."

"Hey, I'm trained," Scott began.

"Shut up, Scott!" The other three said.

"Thank you. Now Teri belongs to another group of Geisha, and she'll be involved with protection, not assassination," Milo continued.

"Protection?" Lisa asked.

"Yes, there are Poison Geisha who also serve as bodyguards to individuals and families. We have quite a few in that department."

"Protection, huh? Well there's no swords to protect you this time, shorty," Mike laughed. Scott groaned.

"Here's the ground rules, Mike, anything goes; Teri, you are not to permanently hurt Mike, just make him submit," Milo said.

"So I'm to hurt him, but not break him," Teri said.

"Correct."

"Milo, which clan is Teri from?" Lisa asked.

"She's either a Steel Geisha or Sumo Geisha, I forget. They're both similar," Milo replied.

Tanya and William looked at each other. "Sumo?" They both said.

"You may disrobe, Teri," Milo said.

Teri took off her robe to reveal a blue thong bikini. Her heavyset body was actually very muscular. She gave Mike a gentle, but clearly deceptive smile.

"Oh, definitely Sumo Geisha," Milo remarked.

"This does not look good," William groaned to Lisa. Lisa nodded slightly.

Milo waited until the two were about ten feet from each other, and then yelled, "Begin!"

Mike fell into a crouch position. He saw this opportunity as a chance to avenge his fallen comrades to regain his pride. He figured he'd use her head as a speed bag, and use her belly as a heavy bag. Then let up on her maybe if she begged for mercy.

"What'cha gonna do, little girl?" The DOOM soldier started to taunt, but was cut short.

Teri with surprising speed rushed in and grabbing Mike with one hand on his belt, and the other one on his lapel, lifted the man over her head. As fast as she lifted him up, she slammed him down. The mat saved Mike from serious injury, but it couldn't keep him from having the wind knocked out of him.

For a second, Teri contemplated what to do. She thought about slamming her bare foot into his face, but remembered Milo's command on not harming him. Instead, she dropped beside him and put him in a headlock, taking care to place just enough pressure to make him suffer without breaking his neck. After she was pleased with the sounds of his suffering, she switched the headlock to a chokehold. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Mike tapping the mat, but pretended not to notice. When Mike frantically slapped the mat, and Milo commanded her to stop, she let go. She stood up and bowed not to Mike, but to the audience, who applauded politely.

Milo bowed to Teri, who walked over and put her robe on. She then gave the agents a look that said, "Is that it?" The agents, except for Scott, checked to see if Mike was all right.

"Call her back here, I could take her!" Scott demanded of Milo.

Milo turned to him. "Did you train him?" She asked.

"Yes, I personally trained all my men."

"Then you should feel ashamed. I expected a much better showing from him. Perhaps I should have had Teri take on the two of you; it would have been a better test of her abilities."

Milo walked away, leaving Scott speechless.

Meanwhile, as Mike was being revived, he started ranting about a rematch.

"Just let me have a second chance at that runt, I'd show her who's tough!" He said.

"Shut ' up," Lisa said quietly. "You could have at least made a decent effort to take her on in honorable combat. Instead, you taunt her like this was some schoolyard brawl. These assassins have been around a long time, and worthy of some respect. That "runt' could have snapped your neck or broke you in two in thirty seconds if that long."

"They killed my men," Mike managed to reply.

"And you yet live. Amazing."

"Lisa, perhaps you shouldn't be too hard on the guy," Scott said in defense of Mike.

"You're right. I should hold you responsible. You trained these men, and that's the best they can do, a waste of manpower, cannon fodder for the Geisha? You know, it's your fault that we're here in the first place. Don't even talk to me," Lisa said, turning away from Scott.

William turned to Milo, who finished speaking to a few women and was returning back to the agents. "So what did you feed that girl anyway?" He asked.

"A healthy diet of steak, rice, and vegetables, plus a three-hour workout and fighting regiment. How is he?" Milo asked.

"Winded, but unharmed. In our defense, we do have better fighters-"

Milo cut him off. "I'm aware of that, William, yet your latest "master plan' was composed of buffoons like him," she pointed at Mike. "If these were standard conditions, I'd feel insulted. And I know you agents are aware of our customs regarding formal combat, so what's with this "trash-talking' nonsense? For an offense like that, Teri was within her rights to kill him on the spot."

William extended his arms outward in a gesture of mercy. "I make a plea to spare his life, Milo."

"Oh, he's spared, but it'll be all of you who'll live with the shame."

The other four rose in silence to head back toward the den, only to face Teri blocking their way, robe loosely tied.

"What do you want?" Tanya asked, barely hiding her anger.

"I come to claim my prize," Teri said.

"Your prize?" Lisa replied.

"Yes, I earned him in combat, now I come to collect."

"You mean ' him?" Scott asked, pointing at Mike.

"Me?" Mike asked.

"What are you going to do with him?" Tanya asked Teri.

"What do you think?" Teri answered with a smirk.

"Oh."

"I'm sorry, this time the fault is mine," Milo said, hurrying over. "I forgot the Steel Geisha and Sumo Geisha have this new custom regarding mixed combat. Winner takes all, including the opponent. I think they got it from the India Silkworms. Teri, I forgot to tell them the stipulations regarding this battle. I apologize for the confusion."

"I understand," Teri replied, bowing her head and turning to go.

"No, wait. Take him, he's yours," Lisa said. The other agents gave her a confused look.

"Ma'am?" Mike asked.

"You have been a disgrace to DOOM, to me, and yourself. You are of no use to me. I no longer want to see your face."

Teri nodded her head to Lisa, and then clapped her hands. Two ladies a little taller, but of equal mass suddenly appeared beside Mike.

"I will allow you to get your meager belongings, then you will come with me, where we will discuss the proper definition of respect, and what that means," she said.

"Wait, you can't take me, I'm a guest prisoner here, tell them!" Mike pleaded to the agents.

"Lisa gave you over, please don't embarrass yourself anymore than you have already," Milo said. Lisa had her back turned, giving no response.

"Come on, Lisa!" Scott said. When she received no response, he looked to Mike and gave a look that told him he was sorry.

As they took him away, Tanya asked, "What's going to happen to him?"

"Oh, he'll live; he'll just be a ' source of comfort when she needs it," Milo answered.

Tanya surprised everyone when she burst out laughing. "You mean he's going to be a ' a toy boy for that woman?"

"As always Tanya, crudely put, but accurate. I must agree, it does make for a humorous picture."

Milo walked away, and Scott waited until she was out of earshot before he turned on Lisa.

"Well I hope you're happy now, director!" He spat. "You just gave one of our men over to the enemy! Just passed him over to that girl like a pig to the butcher! Is there anyone else you want to give them? If you wanted to give them someone, you should've chose me, since I'm "responsible' for all this! How is all this going to look on your DOOM report, huh?"

Lisa slowly turned her head to Scott and looked him in the eye.

"You don't get it yet, do you, Scott?" She asked quietly.

"Get what?"

"There is no more DOOM!" She turned and headed toward the den.

DOOM's District Offices, New York, New York

The main conference room was as cold as the grave. Not in actual temperature, but from the general atmosphere, it might as well be subzero.

When no signs of communication came from the regional office, a rescue team was sent, expecting the worst. In that, they were not disappointed.

Upon entering, they found the bodies of the security crew, and a virtual wasteland was all that was left of the secretarial floors and other offices. Not a soul could be found. But in all the time the rescue team had worked, nothing could prepare them for the sight they had seen in the administrative offices.

Agents, officers, and all administrative personnel were in various stages of undress or wearing nothing at all, throwing all their inhibitions to the wind, and letting their passions out. It was if that floor was transformed into a brothel. They also noticed the communications system was damaged, and the circulation system was compromised. The incoming fresh air when the rescuers arrived seemed to bring everyone back to their senses, and overcome with shame.

It was the survivors of that floor, who stood in tattered clothes (some had to borrow a blanket, or even a curtain or raincoat to hide their nakedness) before the council. Many could not look at each other, much less in the eye.

"In all my years working for DOOM, I have never seen anything like it," the head of the council said. "There are many forces out there that threaten our very existence, and one of our offices have personnel missing, and the agents acting like prostitutes! No, I need to apologize to the prostitutes; at least they have a proper time and place to do their thing."

"I'm sorry sir, I really don't know what came over me ' or anyone else," the boss of the regional office said.

"Well you need to find out, fast! I see decorated agents, and dedicated officers banging each other like crazed rabbits. At DOOM, we do not tolerate failure. I want to hear some type of explanation to make me not consider your termination."

No one could think of a suitable explanation. Regarding the agents who survived the assault on the Silkworm lair, they had two more post-hypnotic suggestions. The first was not being able to explain, or put two and two together, no matter how obvious it may be, and the second . . .

"Permission to smoke, sir?" Caroline asked.

"DOOM's offices are a no-smoking facility. Besides, smoking is bad for your health. But that won't last long, so you might as well do it," the head of the council said.

Caroline, as well as several others lit up.

The termination order was never uttered.

Somewhere in Mongolia

Mark Adams and Archie Morrow were DOOM agents, but they weren't what one would call high-level agents. No, they both were low-level agents. They were the agents who wore the label, "expendable" whenever any dangerous missions came about. Their status was the missing link between a glorified secretary and those agents who lived a life full of excitement and espionage. They both joined DOOM for that reason, and to be with all the chicks. The last mission they were sent on was to find an ink cartridge before the stores closed. And as far as women were concerned, what was the allure of belonging to a secret agency if you can't tell anyone because it's secret?

Two months ago, the two men were sent to the agency in Irkust, Russia. They needed some people to help arrange records without tying up the other agents. To Mark and Archie, it was the legislative equivalent to root canal, but orders were orders. And so, life was boring ' until the other day.

The other day, German Silkworms invaded the Irkust facility. To the two men who never saw a Silkworm before, it was a curious sight. These beautiful women who were at least as old as their mothers, with the body of a bodybuilder, and the attitude of Dirty Harry, suddenly appeared. The curiosity disappeared when the ten who swarmed in were out to kill every DOOM agent and employee they could get their hands on. They remember one statuesque woman with dyed short red hair and a gold bikini on the second floor, clean and jerk one agent over her head, and using her as a missile, cast her down onto the hapless agents below, killing a good many of them. She then gave a double biceps pose. The most chilling sight was seeing another Silkworm with long black hair, wearing a dark gray sports bra and a skirt, give another DOOM agent a bear hug. They were too late to offer any aid as the man's chest quickly caved in and he gurgled blood. Even more chilling was the demonic, hungry grin she had on her face. She dropped the agent, and turned toward them, with another grin to greet her new victims. It was clear to the two men what their next course of action was ' escape.

Without hesitation, they turned and sprinted out the nearest exit, and then jumped in the first company car they saw. And they drove, and didn't stop driving until the car ran out of gas. As they walked down a road on the outskirts of Mongolia, they both decided on finding a new field of work. Their loyalty to DOOM was only going to get them killed.

"Hey Archie, you remember a few years ago when that guy told us a DOOM agent will get to see the world, see plenty of beautiful women, and live a life of adventure?" Mark said. He stood 5'10" with a slim build, and short black hair.

"Oh yeah," Archie replied. He stood the same height and build with short red hair.

"Well it's been a few years, and what have we got to show for it?" Mark continued, waving his arms for emphasis. "Menial tasks, stuck up secretaries, and being stuck out in the middle of nowhere!"

"Well being here is a lot better than being there."

"You've got a point there. So those were Silkworms, eh? They're not what I expected. I thought they would be more, uh, sensual."

"That one we saw was "sensual' all right, hugging the guts out of that poor guy."

"When I saw women old enough to be my mother throwing us around like rag dolls, that was my last mission."

"Mine too; no, there's one more."

"What's that?"

"To find the man who fed us all that garbage, and make him pay."

"Yeah, amen to that. Maybe we could feed him to those Silkworms back there."

The two walked along the road for a while, then Archie said, "Hey Mark, where are we going?"

Mark pointed to a temple on a hill out in the distance. "See that temple out there? That's where the Buddhist monks live. All we'll need to do is to ask them for shelter, and they'll take us in, no questions asked."

"Good idea. I wouldn't recommend telling them what really happened; they wouldn't believe it," Archie replied.

"We were there, and I barely believe it. We'll just tell them we're lost."

"How long do we stay?"

"Long enough for us to find a place in the world who never heard of DOOM, or stupid enough have two assassin clans after them."

It seemed like forever, but finally, the two now former DOOM agents reached the temple. They stood before a pair of large wooden doors. Mark reached out to knock on the doors, but Archie stopped him and pressed the button for the doorbell. A loud, but pleasant sound of chimes floated through the air.

"Hey, nobody said they couldn't join the twenty-first century," Archie said. Mark shrugged in agreement.

One of the doors opened, and a woman who looked to be in her late thirties or early forties popped her head out. She was a 5'6" olive-skinned oriental with short black hair and wearing what appeared to be a light blue shift that was almost transparent in the light. What the shift revealed was an athletic body, similar to that of a fitness model. Her bare feet wore nail polish the same color as the shift, and were adorned with many ankle bracelets and toe rings.

Before she could utter a word, Archie asked, "Do you speak English?"

"Yes I do," the woman said.

Mark then launched into their tale of woe, making sure to change the details, leaving out DOOM, Silkworms, or anything that involved spies, war, or assassins. The woman gave a smile of welcome and opened the door.

"Come in," she said warmly. "We always provide help for those in need."

She didn't so much walk as she glided down the elaborate hallway. Archie and Mark were close behind her enjoying the view. They also enjoyed the view of the temple as well. They entered a large room that served as an office. Behind a large desk were two women in some type of discussion. One was about 5'7" with Eurasian features and straight shoulder length black hair. She was a mature beauty, with a well-developed body that was obvious underneath her flowing black gown. The other was clearly a Mongolian native who stood 5'9" or 5'10" with black hair that nearly reached her waist. She was full-figured and very powerfully built. She wore a loose blue shift that displayed all her attractiveness, but it couldn't hide one thing. Her face though pretty, looked like she hasn't smiled in years.

"Mistress, I brought us two guests," the woman who answered the door said. "They were lost, and needed a place to stay for a couple of days."

"Indeed? Well welcome to our humble facility. My name is June," the first woman said. "Is English the right tongue?"

"Oh yes; I'm Archie, and he's Mark."

"This is Ulan." The Mongolian gave a curt nod. "Diane will take you to our guest quarters. Please make yourself at home. Dinner will be about an hour from now; get some rest," June said.

After they arrived at their guest quarters and got themselves settled, Archie was checking out the satellite TV as he told Mark, "This is better than a number of hotels we'd been assigned to. How long do you want to stay?" He asked.

"I think four days should do it. We don't want to wear out their welcome."

"At a Buddhist temple of all women."

"Sure, why not? We guys do this type of thing all the time; why can't the women do it?"

"Fine with me, just as long as they're not like the woman we ran away from," Archie replied. "I still get chills thinking about it."

"Well stop thinking about it, we don't live that life anymore. I'd be content with getting back to the States, and live a boring life. Nobody attacks people with boring lives."

"Yeah, boring is good."

The next four days went rather well for the two ex-spies. The accommodations were nice, the food was good, and the ladies were fun to talk to. On the fourth day, both men were discussing their plan of action when there was a light knock on their door. Mark opened it to find out it was Diane. This time, she wore a jade green shift with the appropriate jewelry and nail polish to match.

"Hello Diane, looking beautiful as ever," Mark said.

"Thank you Mark," Diane said, her cheeks flushing slightly. "June and Ulan would like to see you in the office."

"Thank you Diane, we'll be there shortly," Mark replied.

"I would like to escort you, the both of you, please," Diane said a little hesitantly. The two men looked at each other a moment, then shrugged.

"Lead the way," Archie said.

They entered the office, where the two ladies had a pot of tea and some assorted cheese and fruits.

"Mark, Archie, have a seat," June said, pouring a cup of tea. "Let's have a chat, shall we?"

"If this is about us staying too long, we were making plans to go-"

June held up her hand. "No, no, it's not about that. After all, you two came a long way, Archie and Mark, or rather, Archie Morrow and Mark Adams, DOOM agents."

Both men were stunned. "How did you know? We never mentioned that," Mark said, feeling a cold spear of dread reaching his heart.

"Not long ago, a group of German Silkworms feeling rather randy, attacked your outpost. By the way, you two are the sole survivors," June started.

"Wow," Archie said.

"Indeed, it's hard to escape a German Silkworm; they are a bloodthirsty lot. Anyway, by escaping, you ended up entering a Silkworm training center."

"You mean all of you are-" Mark started, but couldn't get out the words.

"Silkworms," Ulan finished.

"Actually, this is considered the world's topmost training facility for Silkworms; all Silkworms, from the brutal German Silkworms to the fearsome Mongolian brand, and even our uh, more seductive sisters in India, the ones your organization used to hire. But enough about that, the question is what should we do with you?" June stated.

"Uh, we decided to quit the spy business after we escaped," Archie explained, reaching at straws.

"Then I would say your timing was a little off. We considered a couple of options like terminating the both of you on the spot. Then we considered waiting until we gleaned some information from you, then terminating you. When we discovered that you two were lower level agents, well that didn't help your cause any. Then we realized the ladies like you. We may be the most skilled assassins in the world, but we're also women. Many of our trainees spend an intense period of perfecting their skills from six months up to two years, with no contact with the male gender. Some of them become a little lonely."

"What are you proposing, that we'd be your . . .sex slaves?" Mark spat out.

"If you must be crude about it, yes," June said as she took a sip of tea. "Myself, I prefer the title, "Comfort Boys.'"

"This is insane!" Archie exclaimed.

"It's better than the alternative," June replied.

"Killing us on the spot?" Mark said.

"No, nothing like that; we'd just throw you out. Whether you realize it or not, this place has become a sanctuary for you. The German Silkworms are still running about, seeking who they may devour," June said as she took another sip.

"Why can't they stay in their own country?" Archie complained.

"Before you were attacked, when was the last time your office contacted anyone in Germany?" When silence answered her question, June went on. "It was a long time ago, because there are now no living DOOM agents in Germany."

"But Germany is way over in Europe."

"Allow me to explain, since it's beyond your scope to do anything about it anyway. The German, French, and Spanish Silkworms have just completed their "European Expansion,' wiping out DOOM installations and making them their own. After Germany was "cleansed,' the German Silkworms wanted more ' blood, that is. The rest of Europe had DOOM outposts too small to deal with, everybody is hunting DOOM agents in your country, and Silkworms in Iran, the other Arab countries, India, China, and here in Mongolia have things under control. So that leaves the Russian area, where they and the Gypsy Silkworms have free rein."

"Gypsy Silkworms? How many kinds of Silkworms are there?"

"A few. If you really want to be astounded, try to find out how many kinds of Poison Geisha there are. Even the leaders aren't sure. My point is if you set foot back onto Russian soil, Mongolian soil, or anywhere in Europe, you're as good as dead. Mongolia does not have any DOOM outposts, but neither the native Silkworms nor Geisha would tolerate your presence here. Your names are still on the DOOM database of active agents, and German Silkworms have strong memories."

Mark sighed. "So we're "comfort boys' if we stay, dead meat if we don't."

"Unless you move to upper Russia. We Silkworms are a little adverse to the winters up there. It interferes with our footwear."

"Footwear? I haven't seen a pair of shoes on your ladies since we got here ' oh," Archie said.

Mark sat down at the table for the first time, resigned to his fate. "Okay, so how does this "comfort boy' deal work?" He asked.

"We will draw lots, a lottery if you will, to decide who gets you which night. You will get a night off per week, and I'll tell them to be gentle," June said. Seeing the skeptical looks, she added, "I don't see why you're disappointed, this is a young man's dream. If it's the age thing, our fifty-year-old Silkworms have the physiology of a twenty-five-year-old or better. I think you'd be pleasantly surprised. I myself will not be taking part in this; my husband lives in a mansion at the bottom of the hill. Now sit down, both of you, and have some tea and some food. You'll need all your energy for the time to come."

The foursome had their evening meal in silence, Mark and Archie struggling to comprehend their new role in life. Being a concubine to lady assassins did sound like a better fate as opposed to being a victim to them. But being exiled from the outside world was not desirable either, unless living in Siberia sounded appealing.

"I believe tonight we'll give you the night off, then I'll ask which ladies are willing to participate. I should have a proper list by morning," June said.

Suddenly, the usually silent Ulan placed down her teacup and spoke. "I want that one," she said, pointing at Archie.

"M-me?" Archie said.

"Yes, you will come with me tonight."

"Well this changes things. Mark, I guess you have the night off. Ulan, I didn't even know you were interested," June said.

"In some ways, he reminds me of my late husband, Boris. Come with me, Archie," Ulan replied. She took Archie by the hand and pulled him to her quarters.

"Wow, she doesn't waste time," Mark said.

"Once she made up her mind to do something, there is no stopping her. In that case, I will see you at breakfast time to find who you'll be with tomorrow evening," June said.

Mark left the room, where Diane was waiting to escort him back.

"Where's Archie?" She asked.

"He uh, had pressing business with Ulan. He'll be back in the morning." He felt silly lying, but he felt equally silly telling her that the Mongolian Silkworm was going to have her way with him. If that woman was as strong as she looked, she might kill him. What a way to go.

"Pressing business," Diane repeated. Mark thought he heard a giggle.

"Did you say something, Diane?"

"No I didn't, Mark. Here are your quarters. Sleep well."

Much to his surprise, Mark did sleep well. The trip to breakfast felt a little strange. He started wondering who he'll be with that night; maybe it's the black Silkworm who seemed to look at his behind every chance she got. When he arrived, he saw only June at the dining table.

"What happened?" He blurted out.

"Don't ask me, I don't eavesdrop on such things," June replied. "Still, this is unlike Ulan; she's always the first to rise."

Their question was answered when Ulan arrived. She floated into the room, humming a little tune to herself. To make things even more shocking, she was smiling.

"Where's Archie?" Mark demanded.

"Oh he's sleeping," Ulan answered, twirling a lock of hair around her finger as she spoke.

"So last night went well, without incident?" June asked, about as stunned by this change as Mark.

"Uh huh," she replied. "Oh, you can do what you want with that one," Ulan pointed at Mark, "I'm keeping this one."

June gave Mark an odd look, and said, "Ulan, are you sure you're all right?"

"Never better," Ulan said, smiling slyly at June.

The surprised Silkworm proceeded to produce a bowl with slips of paper in it.

"Well let's see who you will be with, Mark. Maybe you'll make some woman as happy as Ulan here," she said.

"Doubt it," Ulan replied, giggling.

"Ulan, I'm curious; how long has it been since Boris passed away?"

"Twenty years."

"That explains things," June said as she picked up the bowl. "This is most peculiar. I had all the candidates put their name in the container. Now the container feels a little lighter. Well no matter; let me pull out the first candidate . . .well, well, well, it looks like you'll be spending the night with-"

"Just a minute, June, let me see that container," Ulan said. "I see. June, who was the last person you asked to put this away before you left last night?"

Ulan pulled a second slip of paper and showed it to June.

"Why that little sneak!" June exclaimed. "I never would've expected this from her!"

Ulan laughed out loud.

"May I ask what's going on? After all, it's my body and mojo we're talking about here," Mark complained.

"My Archie has a lot of mojo," Ulan said breathlessly.

"What?"

"Go back to your quarters, Mark, you'll get a visit soon enough tonight," June said.

As Mark left the room confused, June turned to Ulan.

"I'm going to call her up and demand an explanation from her!" She huffed.

Ulan placed a hand on her shoulder. "Don't bother; she served us faithfully, she deserves one of her own," she said.

"But the others!"

"The others can catch their own. June, I've been thinking. Maybe it would be a big boost in morale to have what they call a "girls' night out' once a week or so. It would definitely be an answer for the problem of those Silkworms from India trying to seduce the new recruits."

June sat and thought a moment. "Yes, perhaps you're right, Ulan," she said. "I'll see about sending the news out right away."

"Very good. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to wake Archie up so I can feed him breakfast; then we can get to work," Ulan said, turning to go.

"Get to work?"

But all June received in reply was a devilish grin from Ulan's face before she left.

If that was all she needed to lighten her up, I would put a man on her doorstep a long time ago," June said to herself as she drank her tea.

Mark spent the rest of the day feeling a little tentative. His new life as a "comfort boy" felt a little strange. He remembered the DOOM recruiter telling him and Archie how the life of an agent would be full of excitement and romance. Now there he sat, about to become a male concubine to a group who had sworn to practically wipe them out, unless they're given DOOM's leader, and no one knows where that person was, or if that person even exists.

He did not see Archie at lunch, Ulan said he was sleeping. At dinner, neither Archie nor Ulan were there. June just shrugged and said they'll eat later. Mark wondered as powerfully built as Ulan was, if she didn't burn him out before the week was out. He almost laughed at his situation; many men have dreamed of a life like this, and here he was feeling imprisoned. He remembered seeing the faces of the Silkworms, wondering who he was going to spend the night with. Finally around midnight, he undressed and went to bed. Maybe his first "client" got cold feet and decided not to come.

Sometime in the middle of the night, Mark woke up. It felt like a hand brushed his cheek. He slowly opened his eyes to see Diane standing over him.

"Diane? What are you doing here-" Mark started, but was silenced by Diane's hand covering his mouth.

"Silence Mark Adams, you are mine this night. And the next, and the nights to come," Diane said. She wore a shift, like usual, but this one was clear, almost invisible in the moonlight.

"You rigged the bowl?" Mark asked in a hushed whisper when Diane uncovered his mouth.

"Yes I did. I could not bear the thought of you spending the night with some stranger, while it was I who waited on you and Archie hand and foot. Ulan took Archie, so it's only fair that I take you."

In a fluid motion, Diane pulled back Mark's bed sheets and pulled off her shift at the same time. She then started to pull Mark's underwear off as she straddled him.

"But I'm a DOOM agent," Mark protested, wondering why he said that, especially since he unofficially quit.

"And I'm a Silkworm, never forget that," Diane replied as she started kissing his neck and chest. "Your safety, your very life is dependent on your staying within the confines of this place, and being with me. If you even think of being with anyone else, even another Silkworm, you'll wish I threw you outside. Do I make myself clear?"

Diane's caresses turned suddenly into a chokehold. Mark was taken off guard by the Silkworms' strength.

"I said, do I make myself clear?" Diane repeated.

"Y-yes," Mark croaked out.

Diane's expression turned to a wide grin. "Good, good. Soon, we will depart these walls, and travel the world to wherever I am hired. After my mission is over, I will return to where you are, waiting for me, my lover and companion."

"Companion?" Mark asked.

"Yes; I will take good care of you and protect you. You'll never lack for anything. For now, give yourself to me, Mark, and I will show you how I can take care of you."

Except for a few splinter groups, DOOM as an organization had ceased to exist in Mongolia and Kazakhstan, Turkey, and the Ukraine. As a result of the German Silkworms' bloody assistance in Europe, particularly Germany, Poland, Hungary, and Romania had been virtually swept clean of DOOM agents, officers, strongholds, and even safehouses and affiliated companies. In the midst of all that carnage, Archie and Mark managed to do the impossible and escape by hiding within the enemy camp. As a result, they were forced to be the male concubines of two Silkworms. Such a horrible fate.

Or was it?

Tokyo, Japan

It had been a few months since the agents' capture at the Traditional Poison Geishas' headquarters. This time, they were back at the original location in a newly rebuilt temple. Milo even saw fit to throw in a few extra items like radar detection, so Scott's attempt wouldn't be tried again. Milo did commend Scott post-humorously on what he did. No one, not even COIL ever tried such an idea. Scott took it as cold comfort, especially since he sat now in the building he tried to destroy.

Scott and Lisa barely spoke to each other, unless they had to or Lisa gave a direct order, which wasn't very often any more. William and Tanya acted as a mediator between the two at first, then later gave up the attempt. The foursome did receive challenges from a member of the erotic Silkworms, but they wisely refused, especially since they heard about the members of DOOM's district offices in New York being arrested for indecent exposure and lewd behavior.

Lisa spent her time watching the news channels. If someone sat near her, they could hear her mumble the locations of DOOM offices and associated buildings destroyed or suddenly void of personnel. She even heard by way of rumor among the geisha that an army of secretaries turned on their DOOM bosses and slaughtered them as their entrance exam for becoming a Silkworm. During the little time she spent not watching TV, Lisa would stare out the window, not speaking to anyone.

Scott wasn't as belligerent as he had been, but he maintained conversation with William and Tanya, and even some of the geisha on occasion. He came to the understanding that he was simply outsmarted in his attempt to destroy the Geisha headquarters. The Gray Fox was a master strategist after all. At least he did better than those fools who tried to invade the Silkworm headquarters in India. What were they thinking, just marching into the temple like that?

Tanya and William have became an item. It turned out Milo was right; the contact lenses did make a difference. The two would take long walks around the area, many times hand-in-hand, like teenagers instead of adult officers of a covert organization.

The last case made Milo smile. She often thought if she wasn't a Poison Geisha, she would make a good professional matchmaker if they still had them around. Her little experiment was a success too. Keeping the foursome as house prisoners instead of shackled, beaten, and tortured worked well too; in some cases almost too well. Lisa, who she considered the rock of the group as well as the commanding officer, was practically reduced to a zombie, watching news of her organization being torn apart piece by piece. She was starting to depress Milo, and her side was winning!

The incident involving the challenge from the Sumo Geisha drove a wedge between Lisa and Scott that may never be healed. Out of curiosity, she did check on Mike. He seemed to be rather . . .busy being a "source of comfort" to Teri, who seemed to have an active libido, especially after a busy day of protecting her client. He'll either be burnt out or she'll be pregnant if that keeps up. Still, the whole affair was unexpected, but interesting.

Scott was a much mellower man. She could now hold regular conversation with him, minus the "DOOM will get you" rhetoric. But it can be seen that he still carried the guilt for his lost siege. It took the loss of Mike and the accusations from Lisa to place it there. When this was over, it would be unlikely for him to return to active duty.

William and Tanya would rather retreat to some deserted island than play spy games anymore. As their relationship grew, they no longer seemed to care about who was winning.

So now she had four agents, two of them ready for matrimony, one ready for work in the private sector, and the last ready for therapy.

But what of Milo, she thought to herself. As expected, her and some of the other geisha developed somewhat of a relationship with the captives. She felt sorry for Lisa, but it's understood that war can be a harsh mistress; taking more of you than you're willing to give. She found Scott was an excellent chess player. She was ahead of Scott in the series, buy only slightly. And it was hard of her not to smile when she saw Tanya and William.

She'll miss them.

The war, for all intents and purposes, was practically over. They have not found the DOOM leader they were looking for, but that was only a matter of time. The remaining DOOM agents had fled to the four corners of the earth; some to the more remote countries, others to the heavily populated, like the United States, China, India, and Japan. A significant segment had fled into Russia, and rumors say some are even attempting to create splinter groups, changing their names to avoid detection. She heard a large group of them were fleeing to Brazil. Milo smiled to herself; knowing the effectiveness of the country's Barefoot Assassins, they'll never make it out.

She couldn't help but wonder what COIL will do, now that their archenemy was a mere shadow of themselves, a few moments from extinction. But that wasn't her concern now.

She gathered up four of her personal guard, and went to the den where the agents were. Scott was leafing through a magazine, William and Tanya were in a corner talking about whatever lovers talk about, and Lisa was surfing the TV, trying to find something, anything about the war.

Milo took the remote and turned off the TV.

"Milo, why?" Lisa said.

"It's over, Lisa, get your things," Milo replied.

Closing the magazine, Scott said, "I guess it was going to happen sooner or later."

William and Tanya held each other tightly.

"Please don't make it more difficult than it already is," Milo said quietly.

The four agents were led to the main entrance, and just outside the temple walls.

"What are you going to do?" Lisa asked, though she knew the answer.

Each of Milo's guards held a large basket. At her command, each one was handed to an agent.

"Milo, I think my head is too big for this bas-ket . . ." Scott trailed off, when he uncovered the basket. Inside was too changes of clothes, toiletries, and enough money to get them plane tickets to anyplace on the globe.

"I'm letting you go, Scott," Milo said. "The war is almost over, but I wouldn't recommend returning to DOOM."

"There's nothing left. It was my life," Lisa said.

"Then it's time to find a new life."

"St. Bart's sounds like a good place to start," William said, hugging Tanya.

"I have a cottage there. It's a beautiful place," Milo replied.

"Maybe I'll travel for a while," Scott said. "Hey wait a minute, won't we be tracked down?"

"I took care of it. The treaty is void if you rejoin DOOM, what's left of them, anyway."

"DOOM was my life. You took that away from me . . ." Lisa said, trailing off.

"I am one of the leaders of an international organization . . . but it's not my life," Milo said. "I've taught my ladies that business should be kept business, and then leave time for yourself."

"I don't know where to go," Lisa said, sounding like a scared little girl.

"I'd let you back in, but I'm afraid you'd plant yourself in front of the television again. There's a place in Samoa called Serenity. They don't ask who you are, and you can stay as long as you like. It's not a mental hospital, it's a healing place. I have three limos parked outside. Just tell the driver "Serenity,' and she'll know what you mean."

Lisa started toward the first limousine, then looked back and said, "Thank you," then got in and shortly drove off.

"I always thought she was the strongest of us," William said.

"Perhaps that was her problem," Tanya replied. "Her dedication to DOOM was so strong, when it fell apart, she fell apart with it."

"That could've been me," Scott said, "but I had to let it go or it would eat me alive."

"Well the time has come to say goodbye," Milo said. "I don't know if we'll see each other again, but you are free to visit anytime, as long as you don't have troops with you, of course."

"My days of playing soldier are over, you saw to that. I don't think Lisa would've let me try it again anyway. Hey, does Serenity take visitors?"

"Yes, the decision will be up to her, but I think she'll want some."

"Well let's go, we have an island to invade," William said, hugging Tanya. The two walked to the limo, when William turned and mouthed "Thank you."

"What was that about?" Scott asked.

"A testament to my matchmaking abilities," Milo replied.

"You know, I'll never be able to figure you out."

"Good, it means I haven't lost my touch."

For some reason, Scott didn't leave, and shortly, William came back to join him.

"Why aren't you leaving? You like it here that much?" Milo joked.

"I have one question I must ask," Scott said.

"Why?" William said.

"When I heard that we and the Silkworms have declared war on DOOM, I have already forecasted the outcome. At the risk of sounding like a braggart, your organization and COIL may be at the top of your game in espionage, but for hundreds, perhaps a little over a thousand years, both our clans have been experts in the art of killing. Some of us consider our skills of assassination as an art form. Even without the severe breach of contract your organization had done, my fellow sisters would be so blood thirsty, anyone who even had a passing interest with anybody bearing the initials of DOOM would be destroyed. That enmity would be even bigger among the Silkworms. I've found DOOM has not been the best client to work for, and both clans have long memories.

"Anyway, I appealed to both to keep the bloodshed only among active agents and higher up. But with all this death we're dealing out, I thought perhaps it might be time to give a little. . . mercy.

"So I remembered you four and how you were good clients to my ladies. In a roundabout way, I spared you, for I'll tell you this, even if we found your leader, we would not stop until DOOM was wiped off the earth. We have done this before."

"But what about COIL?" William asked.

"All COIL is to us is another spy organization with initials, and another group of people who want to rule the world," Milo answered. "We are a business, a brutal one perhaps, but a business just the same. If COIL wants to do business with us, fine; if they see us as a threat and want to do away with us, we'll deal with them too. But as for what I did, you can call it a gift, call it mercy, or maybe the signs of a seasoned assassin going soft," she turned to her personal guard, "which is a joke, of course." The four women smiled and nodded.

They stood around in an awkward moment, then Scott said, "Well, we better be going, the world is waiting."

"You should find it drastically different than before," Milo replied.

"That part of my life is gone now. I have some relaxing to do on a hot beach," William said as he embraced Scott with a firm handshake, and a wave to Milo on his way back to his limo.

Scott was about to get in his limo, and then looked at Milo. "I owe you a few games of chess!"

"I would be looking forward to it," Milo smiled.

As the last limo left, a woman trotted up to Milo, and bowed.

"Mistress, our fellow Silkworms have located a large group of DOOM agents hiding out in Kyoto. They wanted to know if you wanted to help out with a clean-up crew," she said.

Milo watched the last limo leave the grounds and smiled. "Yes, a clean-up crew of ten should do it. And after they're finished, tell them they can come over for tea."

"Yes, mistress." She bowed and left.

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