Natalya, the Cleaning Lady

She really knows how to take out the garbage.

"I've got three of a kind, what do you have?"

"Royal flush."

"Really? You're kidding!"

"Nope, see for yourself."

"Huh. You know, this is pretty bad timing."

"Yeah, the first and probably last time in my life I get a royal flush, and it happens to be in a game played for no money, in a hotel room in Brazil. Life really stinks sometimes, you know that?"

The other card player looked out the window, taking in the beautiful landscape. "Oh, I don't know, at least we're in a nice place to begin with. We have some free time to see the sights, check out the chicks; you know, explore the local "wildlife,' you know what I mean?"

"I know what you mean, but I'm not going to take it easy until I find out where our fellow agents have disappeared to."

"As beautiful as this country is, they just may have gone awol and decided to live here. Anyway, don't tell me you're spooked by the "Brazilian Triangle,' are you?"

The winning poker player shook his head. "No; my opinion is it's just some COIL trap we don't know about yet. I wouldn't put it past them to conveniently "misplace' an agent to hang around here and whack any DOOM agents who come back here."

"You may be right. In any case, we'll be ready for them."

At that time, there was a knock on the door, causing both agents to reach for their revolvers. After a few seconds, they looked at each other and smiled.

"Who is it?" Carlos Seaver asked, as he re-holstered his gun, but keeping it nearby.

"It's just me, Natalya, the cleaning lady. May I come in?" She asked from the other side of the door.

The two agents concealed their firearms, and quickly checked to see if any vital and confidential information was left out in the open. When they saw the only incriminating evidence was a deck of cards scattered on the table, Ken Graves, the other agent, glowered at his flush and said, "Yes, come in."

Carlos was an agent from DOOM headquarters in Paris. He was a handsome man, standing six feet with a slim figure, short brown hair, and looked like he stepped off the runways of a fashion show in France. He had recently completed an assignment in the United States when the DOOM branch official sent him to Brazil.

Ken was slightly shorter at 5'11", medium build, and had brown hair on a receding hairline. The fact of losing his hair didn't bother him, though at first glance, it seemed like everything else did. Ken was a very cautious United States DOOM agent, a factor that saved his life more than once. He also completed an assignment with Carlos when DOOM sent him and Carlos to Brazil to find out what happened to the missing DOOM agents. So far every agent, including an agency boss who recently traveled to Brazil had never returned. Because of this, the two spies made an extra effort to be even more "secret" than they normally do as secret agents, even to the point of restricting their activity as much as possible. Other than that, they didn't have too much to go on, and very few places to go.

Carlos opened the door and Natalya walked in, pushing her laundry cart. The cleaning woman stood 5'9" in a uniform that fit her like a tent. The light blue dress that the cleaning crew was required to wear was half-sleeve, and hung a little past her knees. She had a white scarf covering most of her shoulder length, curly black hair, and instead of the classic white work shoes hotel cleaning ladies wore, she wore white flip-flops on her feet.

Natalya politely greeted the two spies and asked if it was okay to do the full service, including changing the sheets on the beds. Knowing that nothing of importance was out in the open (plus she was only a cleaning woman, so what would she know?), they nodded their consent. After she performed the regular services that cleaning women do, Natalya headed for the door. Ken stopped her, fished out his wallet, and pulled out a dollar bill to hand to her.

"Thank you for your service today," he said.

Natalya quietly smiled, took the tip, and graciously took her laundry cart and left the room.

"Don't you think giving her only one dollar was a bit cheap?" Carlos said, grinning.

"Oh the American dollar is good everywhere. She can use it to feed her ten children," Ken said. "Did you see the size of her? She's huge!"

"I'd hate to be under her, eh?"

Both men laughed.

Natalya pushed her laundry cart to a room that was located behind the industrial-sized washers and dryers. After she removed the bed sheets and dirty towels, she reached down and removed the hidden digital camera that was strategically placed in the front of the cart. She then closed the door to the smaller room, kicked off her flip-flops, and sat down at a small desk, hooking the camera up to a laptop computer. She first checked the images from the camera to make sure there was a good face shot of the two guests. Good, there was, she thought, so she didn't have to think of any excuses to make a quick return trip. She then took the best image of each man and compared them with a database of known agents for DOOM, COIL, other agencies and independent freelancers. Eventually Natalya found that they both were DOOM agents. She reached over to a switchboard device, looked up the appropriate room number, and flicked a switch. She leaned back in her chair, and checked if the listening devices located in the electrical outlets and lamp base were working. Satisfied with the clarity of sound, she turned on a recording device, turned down the sound, and sat back in her chair to rest a moment. Seeing that everything was set, she went back to the laptop, and typed a priority-one secure e-mail to headquarters.

Natayla was an active athlete in college, successful in both wrestling and weightlifting. So successful, she was asked to represent her country in the Summer Olympics twice. The first time, it was both sports, but the second time they had enough women wrestlers, so she focused on her first love, weightlifting. After winning medals in both sports, she wanted to serve her country in government work, particularly as an agent. After she passed the tests and became an official agent of the Brazilian government, contrary to her physical condition, she was primarily assigned to desk duty. One day a tall blonde woman came to her desk and asked if they could have lunch together, because she had a unique opportunity that might interest her. While her manner was cordial enough, what caught Natalya's attention was her form of dress, consisting of a dark blue uniform, similar to police wear, except the legs were cut at the calves, and she wore no shoes. Well she didn't have anything else going on, so she might as well find out what she had to say, she thought, it might be interesting.

Over lunch, the woman who introduced herself as Bliss, told Natalya that she had a special opportunity to serve her country as a secret agent for her division. Natalya, who still thought of female secret agents in the "James Bond" mode, i.e. slim or skinny women who leaked sexuality from their pores, responded that her build didn't exactly fit the mold. Being a weightlifter and former wrestler, her build was far from fat, but was large and muscular, not the type one saw in the movies.

Bliss laughed and told her that garbage was only in the movies to make the male spy look good. Natayla's build and skills were perfect for her group of what she called Barefoot Assassins. Natayla became more intrigued as Bliss told her the purpose of the group was to capture or neutralize enemy agents who have entered the country. Their bodies would be trained and hardened (including their feet, hence the name) to become a lethal weapon so they could sanction their targets without relying on gadgets and/or weapons. Bliss answered almost all of Natayla's remaining questions by telling her that their success rate was almost perfect, and with the former Olympian's skills, she'd be an excellent addition. To Natayla, this sounded a lot more exciting than sitting at a desk, and she'd feel like she was actually accomplishing something, so she accepted the offer.

After her training, Bliss called Natayla to her office and gave her an assignment. Because of some arrangements made with one of the finest hotels in Brazil, she was going to be the first line of defense against enemy agents by posing as a cleaning woman. What better way was there to intercept enemy agents, than to clean their rooms!

Over time, Natayla was very efficient at her position, plus she found she really liked cleaning. So much so, the hotel had given her several raises (along with her government pay), and a permanent full-time position and one of their luxury rooms to live in. The hotel administration was strongly loyal to their government, and if a guest suddenly turned up "missing," it meant Natayla was doing her job, and another vacant room was available.

Natalya heard a "ping" sound come from her laptop. It notified her that she received a response to her e-mail. After typing in her password, she read her instructions. Both agents were considered a serious threat to Brazilian security, and must be sanctioned. Natalya smiled to herself; she was looking forward to meeting them again, especially after one of them gave her a lousy tip, and the other made a crude and inaccurate remark about her size when they thought she was out of earshot.

"We'll see who's under who," she said to herself.

Later that evening, the two spies were sitting in their room watching a soccer game between Brazil and France. The score was tied, 1-1.

"Exciting game, huh?" Carlos said, sipping his beer.

"It'd be more exciting if my country was playing better," Ken replied. "My country still hasn't caught on to playing this sport halfway decent."

"Maybe the US coach is watching this game to catch some lessons," Carlos joked. "I'm going to step out and get some ice, I'll be right back."

Ken lay back on his bed and relaxed as the half-time proceedings continued. He might as well enjoy this respite in their schedule, for tomorrow they'll receive their instructions for what looked like a long mission.

His eyes were on the verge of closing when he suddenly heard a knock on the door. He figured it was Carlos, back with the ice, and had probably forgotten his room key. He was surprised and nearly ran over by Natalya and her laundry cart as she barged into the room.

"Excuse me sir, but there was something I forgot to clean up," she said as she parked her cart in the middle of the room. She wore the same tent-like uniform dress like she did earlier that day, but she had her flip-flops off, walking around in her bare feet.

"That's okay, you don't have to do that," Ken said, trying to politely show her out the door before the second half of the game started.

"Oh, but I do," she said. "I'm the cleaning lady, and it's my job to take out the trash!"

And then she took off her uniform, revealing a black tank top leotard underneath, showing her powerful build.

Instantly, Ken's trained senses told him there were a few things wrong with this scenario; one, cleaning ladies don't come in guest's rooms at night; two, cleaning ladies generally don't have the build of Hercules; and three, her tone change on "taking out the trash" sounded like it was directed at him. Put it all together, and it spelled possible danger for him and Carlos.

Without giving it a second thought, Ken dove for the chair where his suit jacket and shoulder holster hung. But as quick as he was, Natalya was faster. She tackled the DOOM spy, knocking him away from his intended target. He attempted to make another grab for the chair, but Natayla kicked him in the head with the hardened ball of her bare right foot.

Falling back to the floor, Ken gave up attaining his gun for the moment and charged his opponent head on. Natalya hooked her right arm under Ken's left armpit, and using his momentum and her strength, threw the DOOM agent against a wall. As he hit the wall back first, he dropped down to the carpet on his stomach, momentarily stunned. Breathing a sigh of relief that no occupants were next door to hear the collision, Natayla quickly dropped on his back.

"Now you'll feel what it's like to be beneath me!" She said.

Placing herself in a straddling position, Natayla reached down and locked her fingers under Ken's chin, the pulled up abruptly forming a wrestling move known as the camel clutch. Ken frantically tried to move his arms to grab a hold of something, anything to relieve the pain and set him free, but Natayla had her legs over his arms so he couldn't reach anything.

"When will you fools at DOOM learn that Brazil does not want you here!" She hissed.

Then she yanked upward one last time.

Carlos was at the other end of the hallway returning with the ice when he heard a blood-curdling scream. When he realized the scream sounded like Ken's voice, he rushed back to their room, spilling pieces of ice as he ran. Like Ken, he left his sidearm in the room.

When he flung open the door, all he saw was the room the same as he left, and a large laundry bin in the center of the room, and the cleaning lady appearing to clean up something. Ken was nowhere in sight. Natayla stood up. Her uniform was barely buttoned up enough to be on as she strolled over to the confused agent.

"He went away. He'll be right back," the cleaning lady said, not trying to sound convincing.

"What is going on?" Carlos demanded as he closed the door and looked around the room again. He finally glanced at the laundry bin, and noticed that there was a shoe sticking out, with a foot still attached. He looked over at the cleaning woman, who had a cruel grin on her face and had taken off her uniform.

Again, with a speed that betrayed her build, Natayla hurled herself at Carlos, slamming him against a wall. She started firing a stream of punches to his midsection, breaking ribs and injuring his internal organs. When it looked like he was going to start coughing blood, Natayla grabbed his waist, rammed her left shoulder into his chest, planted her head under his left armpit, and lifted him up and threw him down on the floor, on her discarded uniform.

Landing on his back, the last thing Carlos saw in this life was the sole of Natalya's bare right foot speeding toward his face.

Her work done, Natayla reached over, grabbed a rag from a pocket of her laundry bin, and wiped off her foot. Then she looked around the room closely. Natayla preferred to make her kills bloodless, so it would be easier to clean up. Fortunately, most of the blood and tissue from Carlos' head was on her uniform from where it landed on the floor when she shook it off. A small remainder was on his shirt.

Being prepared for this situation, Natayla pulled out a fresh uniform from a hidden pocket on the bin, and placed it on a chair in front of the television. The other uniform was a total loss; those stains would never come out.

She wrapped Carlos' head in her soiled uniform to prevent any blood from dripping on the carpet, then picked up the body and dropped it in the bin. Tucking everything in, she placed a black plastic liner over the top of the bin.

She put her clean uniform on, the opened the door and peered outside to see if anyone was in the hall. Apparently the sound of the two agents slammed against the wall nor Ken's scream was enough to disturb any of the other guests nearby; one less complication. Natayla padded over to a nearby custodian's closet, and pulled out a smaller laundry bin. She pulled it in the room, and started taking all of the spies' possessions, and tossed them in the bin, especially their clothes and weapons, briefcases with important papers, and two laptop computers.

When all of the two spies' prior existence had been packed away and erased, she started to clean the room. Natayla again changed the sheets, cleaned the bathroom, vacuumed the carpet, and performed all the regular duties she normally did when she cleaned up a room. When she thought the room was spotless, she picked up the phone and called the front desk.

"Hello, this is Natayla. The guests in Room #218 had left abruptly, and the room is now available," she said.

"Thank you, I'll make a note of that," the night clerk said.

"Thank you," Natalya replied and hung up.

The crew at the front desk knew that when Natalya called and said a previously attended room had turned vacant, it was best not to ask questions about the reasons for their sudden departure. The less they knew, the better off they were. She reached into another pocket of the first bin, pulled out a cell phone, and dialed another number. The receiving party answered on the first ring.

"Yes?" The person said.

"This is Natalya, I have two for take out," she said.

"What room is it?"

"Room #218."

"Will you be there?"

"No, I don't think so. I'll be in my room," she said as she lightly paced around the room before stopping in front of the TV that was still on. Was that Brazil and France playing? Brazil was picked to kick their butt pretty soundly this year. She spoke into the cell phone again.

"Scratch that, I'll be up here. Could you do me a favor, though? Could you pick up a large pizza, thick crust, with all meats, mushrooms, and extra cheese? And pick up another one for yourselves, it's on me. I'll pay you when you arrive here."

"Uh, sure, we'll take care of that," the person replied, a little confused by the request.

"Okay, I'll see you in a few minutes," Natalya said, and hung up. She generally didn't run into the cleaners very much. After she completed her sanctions and cleaned the room, she generally made the call and retreated to her place. But this time, after cleaning up her "messes," they could use a little break.

She padded down again to a soft drink machine, and bought a few cans of cola. She walked back to the room, put all the cans in the ice bucket except one, and opened the remainder. She walked over to a sofa in front of the television, crossed her bare feet on the coffee table, and started watching the beginning of the second half.

The cleaners need to get here soon, she thought as she sipped her cola. It looks like Brazil was going to score another goal very soon.

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