Secretarial Revolt

It is a deadly error to upset your secretaries.

By Mongoose750 (mongoose750@yahoo.com)

Pauline Lyons sat at her desk finishing her paperwork. The secretary was 5'5", and had a slim, bordering on a skinny frame. She had short blond hair that was straight, and where a few locks dangled just above her left eye. She was dressed professionally in a long-sleeve black dress that buttoned up the front, and was firm but not tight against her frame. Complementing this, she wore sheer black pantyhose, and black flats with a buckle on the front. The shoes she bought just the other day, and though they were comfortable when she bought them, they were uncomfortable this day.

Ah, forget it, she thought to herself as she kicked her shoes off under her desk.

Pauline had been a secretary at the business office/DOOM outpost for ten years, and she hated it. Oh, the pay was good, and the benefits were nice; that was the only reason she stayed. That, and the miles of red tape she would have to go through if she quit, DOOM being a covert agency and all. But though she did her job as efficient and as professional as an executive secretary in her position should, she barely received the recognition and respect she deserved. Not a ticker-tape parade, just a simple "thank you" would do. Over the years, the thirty-five year-old grew to resent getting up in the morning to go to this place, the agents who treated her like a piece of furniture, and her boss who she really couldn't stand.

With nothing to do for the moment, she sat back and looked out the window. At least her office had a nice view. She'd heard about the attacks on the sister offices on the east coast from the Silkworms and Poison Geishas, and wondered how long it would take for them to start making their way to the outposts and hideouts on the other end of the country, particularly the North Florida area where they were. Well they have to find out we're here first, she thought, and it will take some work to find out the locations of all the branch offices.

She tuned out those stray thoughts and listened to the light pop tune that played on the radio beside her. She took a sip of her green tea when she noticed something unusual about one of the places she watches when she looks out the window. She leans forward to take a closer look, and realizes something has changed. Yes, it sure has.

Pauline scoots back her chair, gets up, and without bothering to put her shoes back on (even though it was not "professional"), made her way to the boss' office.

Five minutes later, she returned to her desk, and sat there, waiting for the long day to end. Twenty minutes later, a ruggedly handsome man walked in. Rick Hawkins was one of the leading field agents for that location, and at 6'1" with light brown hair and a nice body, he was considered a potentially nice catch for any of the female employees who worked there, unless they knew him for what he really was.

"Hello Miss. Lyons, is the boss in?" Rick said. He was in a more polite mood than usual.

"Why yes, Rick, he's at his desk," Pauline replied, equally polite. "Just go right on in."

"Thank you," he said, and entered his office.

A shout of "Oh no!", curses, and saying the Lord's name in vain in the midst of a crisis erupted from the bosses office. Pauline left her desk again and padded in. Rick was checking the boss' body. He was slumped over his desk, head twisted at an odd angle. Rick, a field agent for a number of years had no doubt; the boss was dead.

"Did you see anyone come in other than me today?" He asked.

"No, I saw no one. He said when he came in that he was going to spend the day going over paperwork," Pauline said.

"Then it must've been one of those Silkworms! They're almost invisible when they strike. You don't know they're there until it's too late. They're a match for a trained professional field agent, so I imagine it was nothing for one to sneak into an office of untrained office staff and secretaries."

Ignoring the condescending remark, Pauline nodded her head and said, "Yeah."

Rick bent over to close the boss' eyes. "Well, rest assured, Pauline, our boss will be avenged. Right now, we need to contact our superiors and tell them. Most of all Pauline, I know this was a big loss for you, but you got to remain strong."

"Yes, I'm much stronger than I look," she said, rasing her hand.

The hand was in the shape of a karate chop, which she delivered to the back of Rick's neck. Aiming it precisely and accurately, it broke the field agent's neck. He slumped over on top of his boss.

Pauline calmly took one of her boss' briefcases, and loaded it with compact discs and a few notebooks. She then took her boss' laptop computer and looked at it. She always wanted one like this. She placed it in the briefcase with everything. As an afterthought, she went to the boss' safe and opened it. According to standard DOOM procedure, the boss was the only one who knew the combination. Pauline laughed to herself. Half the time, he couldn't even remember the combination; he had to entrust it to someone. She really didn't need the money, but her boss didn't need it anymore. Finally, she grabbed a large carry-on bag, and threw everything in. She zipped it shut, and left the office.

Pauline returned to her desk and blew out a long breath. There was no need to stick around; it was time to call it a day and leave early. She set her phone so all incoming calls to the boss's office or her desk would be directed to voice mail, picked up her bag and her shoes and left. As she walked through the parking lot, she passed her boss's car. If she thought about it, she would've taken the keys, but that's okay; she liked her car, it's paid for, and a luxury car would be too much for her needs anyway. She placed the bag and the shoes in the trunk of her car, and drove off.

The drive home was nice and uneventful as Pauline placed her favorite classical CD into the cars' CD player, and hummed along with the music. She pulled up in the driveway of her house, waved to the next door neighbor, and took the bag and shoes out of the trunk. After carrying them both to the living room and dropping them off by her favorite recliner in the living room, she trotted off to the kitchen and fixed herself a large glass of lemonade. She returned to the recliner, put up her stocking feet, and waited.

She didn't have to wait long.

Ten minutes later, a figure shown up. Actually, not so much "shown up," it was more like she just appeared. She wore a long flowing red silk gown that seemed to float in the breeze even when there was no breeze. It was transparent, revealing a red sports bra and matching spandex shorts. Completing the outfit was a pair of sheer white tights that shaped themselves perfectly over her well developed legs. Regarding the woman herself, she was a forty-year-old of Asian decent with dark skin, like she spent her free time outside in the sun. She stood the same height as Pauline, but had a more muscular build. Her hair was cut short, the longest parts only touching the tips of her earlobe, and stopping just short of her eyebrows in a page boy style. The hair was prematurely gray, almost silver, but instead of it making her look older, it added more of a regal dignity to her facial features. Her facial expression, normally grim at times like this, had a hint of curiosity and confusion written on them.

Pauline finished taking a long sip from her drink and had just placed the glass down on an end table when she suddenly saw the Silkworm.

"Oh, hi there," she said as she picked up the briefcase and opened it. "Here's a CD of their current plans, top field agents, and base locations in the immediate area. There's even a CD and some written documents of the last conversation my boss had with his superiors." Pauline tossed the CDs on the coffee table in front of her. "That should be all you need to complete your immediate mission."

"It looks like you have already taken care of that for me," the Silkworm said.

For Nadine, the French Silkworm who decided to do her hunting in the United States, this had been an unusual day. She neutralized an armed sentry only to find out that his post was in a direct line of sight from where the executive secretary sat. As she donned the dead sentry's binoculars, she figured she may have to change her plans when the secretary went to her boss, probably to tell him what she saw. She was greatly surprised when the secretary instead stepped around behind her boss, grasped his head, and suddenly twisted it, breaking his neck. Then she went back to her desk and acted like nothing has happened. Nadine's confusion was further compounded when the field agent came in, and she ended up killing him too. A quick check of the office revealed that the vital documents were taken, but she only just went home. And now she just gave her their information free of charge. What was going on?

"Why?" Was the next word to come from Nadine's lips.

"I gave that place ten years of my life," Pauline said calmly and professionally. "Ten years of doing the best job I know how, and I end up being treated like dirt. The salary was nice, but that was the only thing that made it worth getting up in the morning, other than paid vacations and a good dental and medical plan. When I saw you instead of our usual guard, I knew one of the things you were going to do was to kill my boss; but after what he's put me through, that privilege belonged to me."

"And the agent?"

"He was going to notify the boss's superiors, and he was a big jerk, lording it over everyone; "I'm the big field agent, and I'm better than you.' Well now he's with his almighty boss. Anyway, I have what you came for, so take them and do what you plan to do, just make it quick."

Nadine looked at Pauline. "Actually, Pauline, is it, I was going to ask if you wanted to be a Silkworm," she said.

Pauline sat up. "A Silkworm?"

"Yes. You'll probably need a little training, but you seem to have the killing part down well. I think you'll find our salary and medical - dental plan most pleasing."

"How soon can I start?" Pauline said, estatic.

"To me, you started when you killed your boss and that agent."

Pauline hopped around the room excited, and at a loss of what to do next. She started to put her shoes back on, then stopped.

"Silkworms don't wear shoes, do they?" She asked.

"Not while we are working. By the way, the name is Nadine," the Silkworm said.

"Cool! Oh Nadine, I have a request."

"What is it?"

"My friend Helen works at another DOOM office a block from where I worked; and she hates her boss too. I can have her become a Silkworm too."

Interesting, Nadine thought. She hasn't been a Silkworm for ten minutes, and already she wants to recruit? Still, this may be advantageous.

"So how do we get in? You don't presume I can just waltz through the front door," the Silkworm said.

No, no; there's a secret passageway our bosses have just in case something happens, and we need to escape. Well, the bosses don't know Helen and I found out a long time ago. In fact, we use it to visit each other all the time. I'll show you."

This peaked the Silkworm's interest.

"Lead the way," Nadine said.

***

The guard fell on his back, stunned. The assault came from nowhere. Before he could focus and gather his wits, a pantyhose-clad foot smashed into his face. The broken nose fragments penetrated his brain, killing him instantly. Pauline ground her foot further into the dead guard's face to make sure of her handiwork.

Nadine was amazed. This secretary in the space of only a few hours had killed her boss, a field agent, and now this guard patrolling the entrance or what would normally be the exit for the secret passageway. She had planned to neutralize the guard, only not so dramatically. Before she could lift a finger, Pauline sprang into action and took care of it. The woman had promise if she was not too eager.

"Pauline, where did you learn to fight like that?" Nadine asked.

"At DOOM, it's standard for every non-combative employee to take basic self-defense courses. Helen and I signed up for the advanced courses. We took classes every Wednesday and Thursday," Pauline said.

"And they taught you those moves?"

"Well no. we found the manual the field agents use, and we practice their moves, outside of class, of course."

"Is this the first time you've done this?"

"Let's see - I had two muggers attack me a year ago. I did okay, I broke an arm, a leg, and I think someone's neck. Not good enough, though, they still lived, and I got a scratch on the arm. Helen did much better when it happened to her."

Nadine shook her head as they entered the entrance. She heard of experienced agents who didn't fare so well in a common mugging. This was starting to look real promising.

Helen Needle was a 5'8" woman with long brown hair put in a bun. She had a more broad, athletic looking build than Pauline with wire frame glasses, giving her that professional businesswoman look. She wore a brown business suit consisting of a jacket and skirt with a white blouse, white hose, and brown pumps, which were currently parked under her desk. She was about the same age as Pauline, and had received the same dividends as Pauline, which weren't much. She was going over the day's work while fingering her pearl necklace. A hidden door opened, and Pauline poked her head out.

"Hello Helen, how's it going?" Pauline said, entering Helen's office.

"Hello Pauline; rather early for a visit, isn't it? And where are your shoes?" Helen replied.

"I left them at home. As for my appearance, well some unexpected occurances happened today."

"Really, like what?"

Pauline hunched closer to Helen's desk, and spoke in a low voice. "I killed my boss today."

Helen's eyes widened. "Really?" She said in a hushed voice. "How did that happen? Tell me about it."

Pauline quickly told her account of what happened, and ended it with, ". . .and I'm now an official Silkworm!"

"Really!" Helen replied.

"There's more; I told her that you would like to be one too."

"Oh wow, what do I need to do?"

It was at that time that Nadine made her appearance quietly entering the office.

"Hello Helen," Nadine said.

"Oh madame Silkworm, it's an honor to meet you!" Helen replied as she stood up and rushed over to Nadine, shaking her hand.

"Please, just call me Nadine."

"I'm sorry Nadine. I've heard so much about your group from the other agents and my boss, and I finally get to meet one, wow! So, how do I become a Silkworm?"

Nadine was pondering that very question while the two secretaries were talking. There's normally not an entrance exam per se to becoming a Silkworm, but since these were DOOM employees, some test to prove their loyalty may be required.

"Simple, just kill your boss," Nadine said.

Helen stared at her for a moment, fingering her necklace, then quickly turned and headed for the door to the boss' office.

"I'll be right back," she said, and went in.

Nadine realized she was taking a gamble here. Helen seemed sincere, but there was a possibility she could be informing her boss that a Silkworm and a traitor were standing in her office. Then again, from the way she fawned all over her, there was no way it could be an act.

Pauline interrupted her thoughts by asking, "Can we watch? The suspense is killing me."

It appeared that Pauline's newfound sadism was already at a level with serial killers and German Silkworms. "Sure, Nadine said as she glided silently to the door. She opened it a crack, then pushed it all the way to gaze on the sight before her.

Helen was in the final stages of dispatching her boss. She was leaning on his back, using her weight to push his head toward the desk. In her hands were her pearl necklace, used as a garrotte to commit the deadly deed. The DOOM boss made a final gasp for air, then fell still, slumped over his desk. Nadine couldn't help but wonder what kind of treatment have they received to make them hate their employer so much?

Helen looked up at the Silkworm with a self-satisfying evil grin on her face. "How's that?" She asked.

"Well done," Nadine said. "You passed with flying colors."

"Thank you. I have an idea that you may like."

"I would be interested to hear it, but could you open the safe first?"

"No problem."

Helen opened the safe in no time, and with Pauline's assistance, emptied the contents into whatever luggage was available. The two women giggled like schoolchildren.

"That was fast. Now Helen, what is your idea?" Nadine asked.

"I am, or I was the head secretary of this office. I have twenty secretaries who are in my charge, and they'll do whatever I say," Helen said. "Just say the word, and I'll have them kill the remaining officers for you."

Nadine couldn't believe her ears. "You say these women would kill if you tell them to?"

"Yes, I have specifically trained them. They would not be employed if they would act otherwise. Let me call a group meeting, recruit some more soldiers for you."

This was becoming unreal; yet, Nadine liked how things were progressing so far.

"Very well," she said. As Helen took the intercom and made the announcement, the Silkworm turned to Pauline. "Did you have any secretaries under you?"

Pauline made a sour face. "I should, but my boss thought it was "too much responsibility,' so he just had me take care of the whole office. A little help would've been nice," she spat.

"These combat classes you and Helen took, does her secretaries know them too?"

"She made it a requirement. Helen hates the idea of office workers being no more than cannon fodder."

Helen turned to the two. "Our presence is requested in the secretarial pit," she said.

"Don't you mean "secretarial pool?'" Nadine asked.

"No, "pit,' you'll see." She looked at the trio's stocking feet. "Silkworms don't wear shoes on missions, do they?"

"No," Pauline and Nadine said.

"Very well, I'll tell them that when I talk to them. I'll leave my pumps under the desk. How can women fight in those things?"

"Not very well," Nadine remarked.

The "secretarial pit" was a room that resembled an orchestra pit, or a miniature coloseum with the stage at the bottom, and surrounded by raised levels for the audience. On stage, Nadine and Pauline were seated behind a pacing Helen, who addressed her under-secretaries like a commanding officer would address his or her troops.

"Ladies, our boss is dead. I know this, for I was the one who killed him. We are no longer DOOM employees, we are now Silkworms," Helen said. She waited for the fervor to die down before she continued.

"For years, our bosses have treated us like dirt, and today, they will pay the price. Down here with me, you all know Pauline, who disposed of her toad of a boss earlier this morning. She's to be treated as a fellow soldier and commanding officer, plus she's the one who sparked this revolution."

To Pauline's surprise, she received some light applause.

"And seated by her is Nadine, a Silkworm, our liberator," Helen said.

To Nadine's surprise, she was greeted by applause. Helen looked at both ladies with a grin and a nod, then turned back to her audience.

"I'm sure Nadine believes us when we tell her we are Silkworms; however; she wants more than mere lip service. That is why I'm asking you to wipe out every DOOM officer in this building. I have personally overseen your training, I know you can do it. Only the mailroom staff and lower level employees are to be spared. We'll determine later if they will become our prisoners or slaves. The mission will start as soon as we leave this room. Are there any questions?"

All was silent in the room, then a solitary hand was raised. It belonged to a black woman the same size as Helen, but with a more stockier build. Upon further notice, it could be seen the long-haired secretary had a build of muscle, not sedentary fat.

"Yes Taylor?" Helen asked.

"Can I kill that agent in Soviet Affairs? He's treated me like his slave, and he's so full of it, I can't stand it," Taylor said.

Helen laughed a little along with the other secretaries. "Yes, you may," she said.

Another hand shot up. "I want the agent in the North Wing," a Hispanic secretary said who was Pauline's height, but had the build of a tank.

"He's yours," Helen said.

Helen spent the next five minutes taking "requests" from the group. There was a case where two secretaries wanted to kill the same agent, but Helen had told them they could perform a joint sanction.

"Now ladies, we need to do this quickly and quietly, so we need to disconnect the alarm before we act. Watch each other's backs. When you're finished, report back here where Nadine will tell us our next move. Good luck. Oh, one more thing. We are Silkworms now, so we need to act the part. Remove the shoes!"

Nadine was amazed as she saw pumps, heels, boots, sandals, and other types of footwear drop to the floor, neatly placed to the side, or thrown through the air to land wherever its trajectory took it. As she saw the secretaries pad out of the room like silent warriors, she turned to the two former secretaries.

"Tell me, it's obvious you two have planned this for some time. Why now?" She asked.

"We were looking for the right time, but you furnished an extra incentive," Pauline explained. "But we weren't sure if you would take recruits or not, and we didn't know how to contact any of you without alerting DOOM. I hoped you would have mercy on me and my fellow secretaries, so we could join you and your cause. But my boss was to die by my hand regardless."

"Do not mistake my appreciation, but I must ask; have you ever thought of looking for another job?"

The two secretaries laughed.

"There's more red tape quitting or being dismissed from DOOM than there is being hired by DOOM. There's also possible suspicion that secretaries who leave DOOM don't make it to their next job," Helen said.

"So you decided instead to create your own army, then wait for the right time to strike," Nadine remarked. "That must have taken quite a bit of planning and training."

"When I was placed in charge of hiring my own staff, it was a simple matter of telling the new employees that they would pledge loyalty to me, and make combat training mandatory. In turn, I would protect them, and insure that they would receive the benefits that are due them." Helen paused as she heard the cry of a dying agent. "And now, they're going to collect what's due them."

"I would like to watch your secretarial commandoes and see how well they do."

Helen escorted them to the door, and opened it for them. "By all means, let's see them in action. I think you'll be pleased," she said.

After they left the pit, the three women had to maneuver around the body of a dead agent hanging from the stairs. A computer cable was wrapped around his neck before he was pushed over the side. Aside from that, their location offered them an excellent viewpoint to see the action on all fronts, the offices, the hallways, even the break room. Nadine was indeed impressed, for the secretaries were trained well in hand-to-hand combat, and what they lacked in the physical matchup, they made up for it in using the resources they had at hand.

A DOOM agent, like those of any spy agency, were trained to use anything handy that might gain them a victory in engagements underwater, in the jungle, car chases, etc. However, this time they were tangling with trained secretaries who have worked at the desk day in and day out and they knew where everything was located.

A case in point occurred in the office of Stephe Clark, a fifty-something woman of 5'4" with short dirty blond hair, and a petite build that as a result of Helen and Pauline's training had made streamlined with muscle. She had a rough battle with her target, a six-foot agent who had years of experience in the field. She sported a few bruises, but the agent was injured as well, favoring his injured left arm. Having already been disarmed of his gun at the beginning of the conflict, he decided it was time to put an end to this nonsense, and pulled out a flick blade from his back pocket. As he flashed the gleaming blade back and forth, ready to jab, Stephe grabbed a handful of push pins from her desk and tossed them in his face. The agent shielded his face and closed his eyes from the oncoming assault. When he opened his eyes, he saw that Stephe was armed with a letter opener, and worse, that he was wide open. Taking advantage, the secretarial soldier plunged her letter opener into his chest. After making a quick check to make sure no blood stains landed on her purple pantsuit, she left her office to help her fellow secretaries.

In the break room, Taylor was facing off with the agent in Soviet Affairs. Taylor, dressed in a business dress made of a black silk-like material, with her long black hair pulled tight in a bun and held in place with a long black wooden hairpin, proved to be surprisingly strong to the agent's horror. In her spare time at home after work, Taylor continued her work with weights, and picked up a few tricks from a few DVD's on unarmed combat.

Taylor's target fell into a boxing-like stance and started throwing punches. Taylor held a similar stance that was open-handed for two reasons; one, her hands were open so she could block, parry, and grab as well as strike, and two, so her half-inch long fingernails could inflict some damage. The agent threw a punch to Taylor's gut, which she parried with her left arm, while with the speed of a snake slammed her open palm against his nose, breaking it. The man recoiled in pain, holding his nose as Taylor moved in close, peppering his ribs and face with piston-like palm heel thrusts, before tripping him with a leg sweep. The downed agent barely rolled out of the way before Taylor's bare left foot would have stomped his face. Springing up on his feet, the agent attempted a flying kick to Taylor's face. She ducked down to avoid the kick, then grabbed him, and using his momentum, threw him into the front of the soft drink machine, head first.

Her work done, Taylor turned to leave when she heard something strange coming from the soft drink machine. Realizing what it was, she grabbed a small wastebasket, and put it underneath the coin return. After she received her new found fortune, she stopped by her office to drop it off, then made her way to the vice-president's office.

In another office, a quieter battle took place between Graciela (the second secretary who made a "request" to Helen), and the head agent of the North Wing. Instead of the heated battle that waged on elsewhere, this one was more of a grappling match. Graciela, a 5'5" Puerto Rico native with long flowing black hair, and a stout build, was also a training partner with Taylor. She was wearing a short red dress that allowed her stocking clad legs to wrap around her prey's ribs while performing a combination half-nelson/choke hold with her arms. The agent grunted as he tried to reach his revolver, which was only a foot out of reach. The effort was made harder by the fact that one of his ribs was cracked, perhaps broken by the secretaries' leg scissors. Running short on breath and time, the agent gave up on grabbing the gun, and settled instead for a hand-size stone globe paperweight. Gracelia saw him take the weapon with his free hand, and dropped her holds and scrambled to get up as she narrowly avoided the blow. She next found herself trying to keep the agent's hand of doom from striking her on the head and turning the tide of battle. Worse, she found her stocking feet sliding on the floor. Trying to think of something fast, Gracelia came up with the idea of going with the flow. So with one free hand, she engaged the agent with another reverse headlock, and allowed her feet to slide out from under her. The agent, trapped in the headlock, was helpless to stop gravity, and was stunned when his head hit the floor. The paperweight rolled free from his hand. Gracelia took that opportunity to change her reverse headlock to a guillotine choke while once again resuming her leg scissors around his ribs. This time, the agent was helpless to counter her death lock. She grinned as she felt another rib break. Shortly, the agent stopped moving, and Gracelia pushed the body away, exultant in her victory. She brushed off her dress and checked her hose for runs. There were none. She peered out the door, and saw Taylor heading toward the vice-president's office. She left her office and padded toward her friend to tell her of her victory.

A female agent was throwing punches and kicks against a secretary who was effectively blocking, but not able to make ground either. An officer from security who just happened to arrive on the floor (before the power to the elevators were shut off) saw this, and pulled out his gun to shoot the secretary; the rest could be figured out later. Suddenly, a telephone cord with the receiver attached wrapped around his neck. He was then jerked off his feet, causing two shots to fire harmlessly into the wall and ceiling. The woman who lassoed the guard, Natasha, a 5'7" woman with her blond hair in cornrolls, and wearing a long black dress with a long split in the middle, revealing her muscular, black nylon covered long legs and feet, started to slowly reel him in like an angler who made her big catch of the day. The abruptness of the maneuver slammed the back of the man's head against the floor, stunning him. He still held on to his weapon, but he had other concerns like carpet burns and neck lacerations to keep him too busy to shoot it or where to aim it. Finally, the dragging had stopped, and the guard was still gagging, but he had enough awareness to try to point his weapon. However, a foot covered in black nylon stomped down on the wrist of his gun hand, pinning it to the floor, making it immobile. As he clawed at the cord around his neck, the guard looked up to see the chilling sight of Natasha standing over him with an evil smile on her face, as she continued to increase the tension on the cord. . .

The other secretary finally gained an advantage when she kicked an office chair with her bare foot toward the female agent. The agent, thrown off guard by this new participant on wheels, had to spare a split second to knock it aside. That gave the secretary the second she needed to seize her prey with a flying tackle to take her to the ground and pound her with her fists.

Jennifer, a 5'5" Filipino with long brunette hair, padded down the hallway barefoot in a black pinstripe suit with matching trousers wielding two wooden chair legs like escrima sticks. Behind her was a battered body of an agent leaning against the wall. The second agent fled down the hallway to find a stairway to escape and reach the armory. Jennifer smiled to herself as she took her time, because she knew the elevators were shut off, and the doors to the stairways were either barricaded or locked.

Gracelia met Taylor at the door of the vice-president's office.

"So where is your victim?" She asked.

"Oh, just hanging around," Taylor said, pointing to the front window of the break room, where her victim was still hanging from the front of the soft drink machine. "How did yours fare?"

"I don't know, he couldn't say much with a crushed throat," Gracelia replied, giving her friend and training partner a high-five.

"Have you seen Abby?"

"I thought I saw her come in here before I got busy, but that was a while ago," Gracelia said shrugging.

"I know I was busy fighting my boy who was bouncing all over the place. It's awfully quiet in there."

"What should we do?"

"I guess we wait for Helen and Pauline; they're headed this way with the Silkworm," Taylor said.

"That's right, we're Silkworms now."

"Yeah, isn't it cool?"

Just then, Jennifer approached them, smiling. The two table legs she carried were both stained with blood.

"Hey ladies, what's going on?" She asked.

"Last time I saw her, she cracked that witches' neck in Cuban Affairs, then headed in there," Jennifer replied, pointing to the door in front of them. "What, no one came out yet?"

"Nope. Looks like everything else is taken care of here, except this," Taylor said.

Helen summoned one of the secretaries who knew first aid, and asked for a casualty report. The record was almost perfect, aside from bruises and a few superficial cuts, no one suffered any major injuries. Abby was the only one unaccounted for.

For Nadine, she remarked to herself for at least the hundredth time that it's been an unusual day. She planned to take out the two CEO's of the faux companies, gather any relevant intel, then come back with a cocoon of Silkworms to take over. Instead, she's overseeing an army of disgruntled secretaries wipe out every field agent and office employee in the building. And all this was done without her throwing a single blow. Nadine almost felt left out not having a hand in any of the action.

Pauline shook Nadine out of her revelery. She was scolding a petite secretary of Asian decent who had already claimed her victim, and was preparing to take the serrated edge of her letter opener to saw the dead agent's head off.

"Helen Lou, that won't be necessary!" Pauline yelled at the overzealous secretary. "The kill was enough, you don't need to show her a trophy! Besides, that blue pantsuit wouldn't look good with blood stains, would it?"

Helen Lou, a little disappointed, dropped her prize and bowed to the three in reverence.

"Pauline, Helen, what's going on over there?" The Silkworm said, pointing to the vice-president's office where the three secretaries were gathered.

"They're gathering in front of the vice-president's office," Helen said. "Come to think of it, I don't see Abby around anywhere."

As they approached, Gracelia told the three, "Abby went in there a little while ago, but we haven't heard a thing. What should we do?"

Pauline and Helen looked at each other, then turned to Nadine, who said, "Go in, of course. If he was going to do anything, he would have done it by now. Let's see if Abby is all right."

Taylor and Gracelia slowly opened the door while Jennifer stood ready to brain the first person other than Abby to emerge. However, when they peered into her office and the vice-president's office, they found nobody there. The only signs of human habitation they found was an opening beside a hastily moved bookcase, and a discarded gray dress right beside it. Helen smacked herself on the forehead with her left palm.

"Blast it, I forgot the vice-president had a secret exit like my boss did!" Helen exclaimed.

"From what I know about your vice-president, there isn't that much to remember," Pauline replied.

"She's right," Taylor remarked. "If it wasn't for the fact that Abby worked for him, I'd forget him too."

Nadine bent down and picked up Abby's dress.

"This Abby, is she dark-skinned?" She said.

"Yeah, she's almost as dark as me," Taylor replied.

Nadine nodded with approval. "Very good; she is already starting to think like a Silkworm," she said, folding and placing the dress on a nearby table.

"Hey Jennifer, let me use your cell phone for a moment," Taylor said. Jennifer unclipped her phone and tossed it to her. "I thought I saw her have her phone clipped to her before we left. Maybe I can get a hold of her."

This gave Helen another reason to smack herself in the head. "That would mean his cell phone would work too!" She said.

"Hey, don't do that, you'll hurt yourself," Nadine said.

"Yeah, I'm getting a headache just seeing you do it," Pauline remarked.

"There was a flaw in your plan, but it was a slight one. We'll just fix it and move on."

Taylor looked solemnly at the cell phone. She finally ended the connection. "Her phone is ringing, but no response," she said.

No sooner than she said that, the phone gave off a whistle - the sound the phone made when a text message was received.

"Shhh, I'm hunting; VP tracks," the text message said.

While the other ladies rejoiced, Nadine smirked. "Your friend has a thing for Bugs Bunny, I see," she said.

Gracelia rolled her eyes. "She even has a pair of boxers with that character on it."

Pauline looked at the hidden entrance. "Should we send backup?"

Helen paused. "No more than a couple or three at the most. It just occurred to me that he may not have had time to use his phone. Not until he reaches the express cars anyway."

"Where could he go?" Nadine asked.

"He could go to a variety of places," Pauline answered. "He could go to my old building, that spot by the park where we entered, or another direction that Helen and I never explored. We suspect that leads to one of the other DOOM office buildings. I would think it's safe to assume he took the last location if he reached the cars already."

Helen turned to Taylor, Gracelia, and Jennifer. "Go after them. He is not to make it to those cars," she ordered. The three went through the secret entrance.

***

The secret entrances and exits mainly consist of an express elevator that quickly descends to the ground floor or a sub-ground floor level, where the escapee has access to an express car, which is actually a self-powered, dome-shaped, bulletproof railroad car that is programmed to travel solely to its destination. This was in case the passenger was injured or unable to use the controls. The final destination can range from half a block to a few miles away at a well-hidden location, like a park, or some normally deserted locale. If necessary, the escape tunnels can be used to leave on foot if the power is down; the cars and lights have their own generators. The whole tunnel is lit just well enough for the top DOOM staff members to make their escape. They weren't designed for comfort; then again, they were designed to be used only a few times at most, if at all. As a general rule, no one, not even their fiercest rival, COIL, knew about these tunnels. However, the Poison Geisha and Silkworms somehow discovered their existence, though they're not clear on the location of them.

With the branch offices DOOM had distributed in that part of the North Florida region, the tunnels were arranged a little differently. Here, a person could escape to a sister office if they choose, instead of one of the main exits. To this end, the cars were installed with the option of choosing where to go. This also called for multiple cars to be used as well. This underground rail system took a lot of money, bribes, and/or threats, and "looking the other way." Construction workers, DOOM or otherwise were told that it was the beginnings of a fallout shelter, and were sworn to secrecy.

***

Abby was making her way along the semi-dark tunnel of the secret passageway. After she broke the neck of the agent in Cuban Affairs (she always looked down on Abby, like she was of inferior breeding), she made it to her boss' office just in time to see a glimpse of a bookcase moving back to its spot. Wasting no time, she took off her dress, slid back the bookcase, and headed in.

Abby was a dark-skinned Cuban native who was hired by DOOM after she immigrated illegally to the US. She felt trapped when she discovered the true nature of her employers, who were not unlike the regime she escaped. She found fast friends in Graciela and Taylor, and was all for the upcoming revolution. She stood 5'9" with a thin build and long, wavy black hair. As a result of Helen and Pauline's combat training, plus some private training with Taylor and Graciela, her body resembled that of a fitness model or runner.

If she was going to track someone down a dimly lit tunnel, she needed to be as invisible as possible, she reasoned; so she shed off her light gray dress, revealing a black camisole, black boxers (not the pair with Bugs Bunny, these had the Warner Brothers# logo on them), and black fishnet pantyhose. She almost giggled as she mused to herself that this was the coolest she's felt all day. Armed with only a letter opener, she assumed her quarry carried a gun. He was not far away, but he was about to reach the express cars, and it would take forever to determine where he would be headed. She missed him the first time by inches, so she wasn't planning on missing him a second time. Having only her letter opener and her speed, she quickly padded on fishnet-clad feet toward her target. All she needed was two seconds, and she would have him.

***

Keith Underwood was lamenting one of the unwritten rules of big business and even the spy profession: no one pays attention to the vice president, even if he or she was right. He noticed the covert meetings between the secretaries, the hidden signs they gave each other, and other things that alerted his trained sixth sense, a quality that he heavily depended upon when he was an agent in the field. He told the president, his boss about these developments, but did he listen? No, he instead accused him of being paranoid, and being a conspiracy theorist. He needed to focus his energies on what the Silkworms, Poison Geisha, and COIL might be doing. Besides, they're only secretaries, what can they do? And his job as the vice president was to make his boss look good, attend the meaningless meetings his boss could not, and superficially rule the roost while he is gone. And in some cases, be a scapegoat if something goes wrong.

The boss however forgot about another unwritten rule. Despite all the strutting and posturing the bosses may do, it's really the secretaries that keep things running smooth, or to put it bluntly, run the place. If something was going on with them, ignore it at your peril.

Keith wasn't sure what the signs were that told him it was time to leave. Maybe it was the fact that he could not reach his boss nor his secretary despite the knowledge that both were in the office at the time. Perhaps it was the predatory looks of the secretarial staff after another "meeting." It might have been the fact that the power to the elevators were suddenly shut off after that last meeting. The big kicker might have been seeing from a distance a secretary leaving a washroom with blood on her hands - and it wasn't hers. This was all the more dubious by the fact that an agent went into that same room a minute earlier. Whatever the reason, Keith decided to follow another unwritten rule: when all falls apart, cover your own behind.

As he took the secret exit that led to the express cars, he reasoned though his boss may not listen to him, perhaps one of the other DOOM officers will.

***

Abby smiled to herself. Her quarry hadn't noticed her yet; he seemed to be logging in the location he planned to send the express car, good. There was no time to try anything fancy, so she took one last step and launched herself in a flying leap to reach her prey.

***

An instant before Keith pushed the button to his destination, he saw some movement out of the corner of his eye. That's when he realized he forgot one of the cardinal rules of spycraft: always watch your back. With reflexes honed from years prior of being an agent in the field, he reached into his suit to draw his revolver. However, the impact of the flying body knocked the revolver loose, and out of the car. In the scramble of limbs, a hose-covered toe struck a button on the front board, and the bulletproof dome slid over, and the car began to move.

***

Taylor, Graciela, and Jennifer saw that there was no need for stealth, so they trotted through the tunnel as soon as the express elevator sent them down. They arrived just in time to see Abby make her attack on the vice president, and see the express car suddenly start up and take off. Without a word, they jumped into an adjacent car to go after them. Once inside, Taylor and Graciela were stumped as to which button to push.

"Which way are they headed? Which button do we push?" Graciela said.

"Well according to Murphy's Law, I think we should hit the button with the farthest location," Jennifer said.

The strange logic made sense to Taylor as she hit the button that would send them to the north office on the other side of town. Suddenly the plexiglass dome slid over the car, and a woman's voice told them to buckle their seat belts. Five seconds later, the car blasted out of its dock.

"All the roller coasters I've been on never traveled this fast!" Taylor said. "At this rate, we'll be at the north office in no time."

"I'm glad there was a reminder to buckle our seat belts," Jennifer remarked. "The way this thing took off, we'd be plastered against the back window. I hope Abby didn't get hurt."

"Yeah, I hope she's all right," Graciela said, looking out the front window at the speeding car in front of them.

***

Even prior to the secretarial coup, Abby was no stranger to fighting. Growing up, she had to fight in the streets of Havana. She wrung the neck of that DOOM officer with her bare hands, and she will also snap the neck of this idiota, just like her mother did with her chickens back home. The sudden acceleration of the car slammed both bodies against the large front seat, but Abby was in an advantageous position landing on top of her former superior. Although her letter opener went the way of his gun lying somewhere in the tunnel, her forearm against his neck will suffice.

Keith was amazed that this wasn't some frail assistant who was attempting to choke the life out of him; this was a woman who had received combat training, and had put on some muscle. He was right, they were planning something. That would soon become a moot point if he didn't live to tell about it. With a desperate grunt, he pushed Abby off, and made an attempt to get on top of her. Abby managed to get on her back, and fire her left foot, striking Keith in the chest and pushing his head on the solid dome window. Abby proceeded to use her legs like pistons, her feet landing blows to his chest, ribs, and two to the face. She landed one to the groin, and as he slid down in pain, delivered a blow to his throat and held her foot there, strangling him.

Keith struggled to get Abby's foot off his throat while he fended off blows to his face with the other, and failing at that. He finally managed to push it away only to find his neck captured in a leg scissors. Abby jerked him off her feet to bring him closer. Now that he's weakened, she could get him into position for her to wring his neck like she promised herself.

This is a stupid way to die, Keith said as he was on the verge of losing consciousness. He had been on many missions in the US and abroad; he had slugged it out with foes from rival governments, COIL and other spy organizations. Some of those missions were a hair's breath from losing his life. And yet, he survived, only to be killed by his administrative secretary? The car should be at its destination soon, but judging from the spots dancing before his eyes, that may be too late.

Abby changed her head scissors to a scissors hold. Her arms moved Keith's head to his left, with one hand on his throat still constricting air, while the other was in position ready to jerk it back to the other side in a breaking move, while the scissors hold squeezed the midsection. The move was called the Anaconda Deathlock, rumored to be invented by a Silkworm who allegedly liked to suffocate her victims with the option of breaking their necks if time was a factor. Wherever it came from, Abby was looking forward to testing its effectiveness. She took a deep breath, and tensed her muscles, ready to make that sudden move that would end him.

Keith had no options left, and almost no breath. In his condition, he recognized the hold his opponent was attempting, and knew it wouldn't be long before Abby constricted her "coils," and snapped his neck. Only one option was left.

"I surrender."

"Que?"

"I surrender, I give up, you won," Keith blurted out before he gasped for air.

Abby maintained her hold, prepared to break his neck at will. Did he surrender? She wasn't prepared to take any prisoners. She felt the car come to a halt. As long as her prey was awake, her hands were tied. She tightened the hold, and her victim was unconscious. Taking one of his shoelaces, she tied his hands behind his back, and gagged him with his tie. Finally, she poked her head up to see where she was. It was the entrance to the North Office. She heard a sound behind her, and it was another express car, her friends Taylor, Graciela, and Jennifer inside. They jumped out as soon as the dome slid down.

"Hola!" Abby said to her friends as they approached the car.

"You had us worried, girl, zooming off in one of these cars," Taylor said.

"I'll be more careful where I put my big toe, eh?"

"Hey, the VP is still breathing!" Jennifer said, checking Keith's body. "Let me take my stick and take care of that for you."

"No need," Abby replied. "He surrendered."

"So? I don't see why he deserves to live. What's so special about him?"

"Don't you get it, Jennifer? This is the vice president. He could have information that might be useful," Taylor said. "Hey Graciela, what are you doing?"

"Checking out where we are," the transplanted Puerto Rican said. "We're at the North Office. Did you know our two offices are in the middle of a hub of the other four offices?"

"So you're saying we have access to attack the other offices?" Taylor replied.

"We do, but not for us alone. I'll tell the three when we get back."

"Speaking of that, let's get out of here before he wakes up, or they suddenly find out there's four secretaries and a knocked out VP I their basement," Abby said.

"Abby, I'll ride with you. Make sure you buckle up, this thing has a kick to it," Taylor said, hopping in.

"No need to tell me twice. If he didn't take most of the impact, I'd been buried in the front seat," Abby said, buckling up her seat belt.

The two express cars zoomed back to their place of origin.

***

Back at the office, Helen received a call on her cell phone. She picked it up and answered it.

"Yes? Excellent! He surrendered? That's different. Well just drag him back here, and we'll figure out what to do with him. I'll see you in a few minutes. Good work, Abby," she said, then hung up. "That was Abby. Our vice president surrendered before Abby could finish him off."

"He could be useful," Nadine said thoughtfully.

"She also said Graceila found out our offices are at the center of a hub connecting to the other four offices."

"Are the secretaries at the other offices restless as well?"

"No, they're a hundred percent loyal. You even say anything questionable, they might report you. They think their bosses could do no wrong," Pauline said.

"That's too bad," Nadine remarked.

"I told a joke about my boss once, and the next morning my office received a request for a written reprimand. Since all mail reached my desk first, I was able to shred it."

"I think that secretary did more than take dictation from her boss," Helen said.

"I'd bet on it."

Just then, Helen Lou and a taller blond secretary were half-dragging a handsome young man before the three ladies.

"What is this?" Helen asked.

"We caught this man sneaking into our floor," Alice, the blond secretary said. She was 5'6", with short blond hair, a medium build, and dressed in a blue business suit with matching blue hose.

"I was just delivering the mail," the man said defensively.

"Silence!" Helen Lou barked at him.

"And you two are wondering what to do with him?" Nadine said.

"I say we gut him, and have his headless body be a sign to the rest of the mail room to show them what happens to those who oppose us," Helen Lou said.

"There's no need to be grisly. What's your name, young man?" Nadine asked.

"T-Toby," he said.

"And how did you get in here, Toby?"

"The back way, the only place that's closed down for repairs. Please don't kill me; I've only been working here two years, I don't know anything."

"Are you the only one who delivers mail on this floor?"

"Yes ma'am."

"Relax, no one will harm you. Understand that you are now a prisoner, so we need to incarcerate you for a time."

"So we spare him?" Helen Lou asked.

"There's no need to slaughter the innocent. Where do we place him?"

"Alice, take him down to the secretarial pit and watch over him. Helen Lou, the war is over for the moment, so just patrol and make sure no one else gets in here, okay?" Helen said.

As the two secretaries and their prisoner leave, Pauline said, "I swear that woman wants someone's head to hang on her wall."

"You may want to check her purse or the body of the one she killed; there might be something missing," Nadine said with a smirk.

"Something missing?"

"Like an ear, a nose, or a finger or two."

"Ew!"

"So what are the standard Silkworm polices concerning prisoners?" Helen asked, changing the subject.

"It depends. The erotic Silkworms in India would keep the prisoners to use for sexual favors. Then again, everything they do revolves around sex. Maybe that's why DOOM hired them so much. On the other extreme, you have the German Silkworms, who eliminate everything that breathes," Nadine replied.

"So which one are you?" Pauline asked.

"I'm French; we're not as hardcore as the Germans, but we're not as soft-core as those in India either, if you get my meaning. I say when we take over the mailroom, take the young men as prisoners. Since they are the major source of communication, their information will be useful, and being males, they could be useful still for other things as well."

"It looks like Helen Lou is on her way to becoming a German Silkworm."

"Give her a prisoner to play with, she'll mellow out."

"What about the women?" Helen asked.

"We'll turn them easily. The "patriots' of the office we already taken care of. The low-level employees are just as mistreated as you were, so they'll accept the better offer. Pauline, you said the other offices are loyal to DOOM a hundred percent?"

"Yes. Some either know the DOOM national anthem."

Both women looked at her funny.

"I'm not kidding."

"A national anthem! Now I know they must die. Nadine, how would we gauge the attack?" Helen asked.

Nadine took a breath, then said, "There will be an attack launched on the other offices, and the tunnels will be used in doing so. However, neither you nor your troops will be leading the attack."

After the Silkworm saw the shocked faces of the two ladies, she continued. "Helen, Pauline, the job you two have taken in training yourselves and your fellow secretaries have been excellent. But I think it's best for the more experienced Silkworms to handle this."

"But what will happen to us?" Helen said, totally disgruntled.

"All of you will be taken to Toulouse where you'll be at a special facility. You have good combat skills and loyal troops, but there's other things you'll need to learn, like camouflage and stealth training among other topics that DOOM would know nothing about. In the line of fire is a bad time to learn these things," Nadine explained.

"Where is Toulouse?" Pauline asked.

"In France, of course. I actually came here to do a little hunting. Now I return with so much more."

"My ladies, I guess they'll won't be "my ladies' much longer," Helen said, almost on the point of tears.

"Both you and Pauline will still be the leaders, and you'll report mainly to one person," Nadine said.

"Who?" Both asked.

"Me. All of you are under my care now, and I plan on making you my finely tuned angels of death. Some of you are already halfway there."

"I'm sorry for getting emotional," Helen said, wiping her eyes with a tissue. "I've just spent so much time training these women-"

Nadine put a hand on her shoulder. "And you still will. Helen, there's other things to consider here. Eventually, if they haven't already, the other offices will find out what happened here today, and they'll send more experienced, heavily armed troops here. Even if you managed to escape, they still have the basic information of where you live. That's why you will need to disappear. They'll just assume you were expendable and eliminated at the first opportunity."

"I wonder how nice France is this time of year," Pauline pondered.

"It's beautiful. Now after we conquer the mailroom, you need to see if your secretaries can download every scrap of information they can onto more portable media-"

"Already done," Helen said.

"Splendid! Then after we take care of security, we will leave."

"How will we get out of here? Wouldn't the roads be watched, road blocked or something?" Pauline asked.

"Oh we won't drive, we'll fly." Nadine pulled out her cell phone and called a secure number. "Transport, Nadine here. I need you to send - Helen, how many personnel are in the mailroom and custodial departments?"

"Around twenty-five, I believe," Helen answered.

"Five large helicopters to Smith Park, one to come every ten minutes until everyone is picked up. And I need you to send another helicopter on the roof of this building, full stealth control; just lock onto my personal homing beacon." Nadine touched a button on the side of her phone. "And while you're doing this, please transfer me to the leader of the nearby cocoon here - Flora, I believe her name is. I've found a big opening for her ladies to come through.

"Flora, it's Nadine. It's a long story, but you'll like the ending. Bring your ladies to my coordinates here, all of them. I'll see you then."

She closed the phone, ending transmission, except for the glowing red button flashing on the side.

"What did all that mean?" Pauline said.

"It means we have about twenty minutes to take over the rest of this building, and get out of here. After we have done so, your ladies and their prisoners will leave via the escape tunnels to that park we entered. You, Helen, myself, and the vice-president will take the helicopter on the roof. You'll meet Flora, one of the local Silkworms here. We'll give her the vice-president, and we'll all meet at the nearest airport, where we'll take an all-expense paid trip to France."

"Won't it be sort of suspicious with all these people boarding a plane without luggage?" Helen asked.

"Not when you own your own plane. Now get your ladies together, we need to do this."

"Here's the girls with the VP," Pauline said, pointing to the foursome with their prisoner.

"Good; stay with them. Helen, I'll come with you and make the seize in the mailroom. I'd like to have done something today besides taking out a guard."

The mailroom takeover was an event that really wasn't worthy of the word "takeover." As soon as Nadine said "takeover," "prisoner," or even "Silkworm," the crew raised up their hands and surrendered. Some of the secretaries handpicked a prisoner to take into custody. Even bloodthirsty Helen Lou found a young man she looked forward to "interrogating" later. The custodial crew didn't put up a fight either; then again, the very idea of being captured by nice-looking women was something beyond their biggest fantasies. This was further boosted by the fact that they were going to France. The only resistance came from security, which gave Helen a chance to let Helen Lou relieve her blood lust (no heads were taken though).

The escape tunnels were utilized immediately afterwards, leaving the building empty, except for Nadine, Pauline, Helen, and the vice-president, who could only stare in gagged wonder at what happened this day. The four went up to the top of the roof where a waiting helicopter and an army of women dressed in loose fitting silk jumpsuits. One of them, a dark-skinned Hispanic woman of 5'4" with a white jumpsuit with a black stripe down the side walked up to greet them. Her long black hair was in a ponytail that flew in the wind caused by the helicopter. After Nadine told her what happened, she came to Pauline and Helen, and extended her hand.

"Thank you for your help, and welcome to the cocoon," she said.

"Keep me informed of how the seize goes," Nadine said.

"Keep me informed on your new army. I see great potential ahead. We're going to invade the office next door, and make our way out, one at a time. We have some viruses that should clog up communications for a while. May I have the prisoner?"

Helen and Pauline pushed the vice-president out to Flora, who surprised both of them when she threw him over her shoulder and trotted back to a separate group of three ladies who received them.

"Wow!" Pauline said.

"Unbelievable! Helen commented.

"When we finish training, both of you will be able to do the same thing. That goes for the other women as well," Nadine said.

Flora trotted back, her bare feet unaffected by the gravel. "Well we better get started. Ladies, thanks again. Nadine, I'll tell you how everything went, bye-bye."

She rounded up her troops, and led them into the building where some will use the emergency tunnels, and some will attack from outside. The Silkworm and her two neophytes walked to the helicopter.

"Now to meet up with our ladies," Nadine said, as the copter took off.

A short while later, all of the secretaries, now new Silkworms or Silkworms in training, stood beside the private jet they were going to board. While others were brimming with excitement, many were seeing this moment with anticipation, but with unanswered questions. What about their homes, their pets, their other affairs? Nadine stood before the crowd, her army of new troops, and addressed them.

"Ladies, you have now entered into a new stage of your life. It may be the most exciting stage of your life. I will see that area Silkworms will take care of your home affairs, and if possible, have your pets delivered to you," she said.

The pet owners in the crowd gave sighs of relief.

"However, as I explained to your two leaders, because DOOM may be looking for you, you will need to disappear for a time. A time of more training, more knowledge, and riches beyond your wildest dreams."

"Where are we going?" Someone said out loud.

"You will be going to France with me. That's where your training will continue, and your transformation will be complete. You will no longer be former secretaries, but some of the most dangerous people in the world. Your name will only be spoken in whispers by even the biggest leaders of the world who heard of us. The whole world will be your playground.

"You'll need to forget most traces of your old life. This isn't just for your sake, or even for the Silkworms, but for the sake and safety of your family and friends.

"Now let's board this plane. Your destiny awaits you."

They boarded the plane, which had an all-women crew. Once they were in the air, many of the new Silkworms reacted to the events of the day by taking a long, well-deserved nap. The prisoners, whose world was also dramatically turned upside down by lunchtime, looked out the window, and watched the ocean on their trip to France. Nadine leaned her seat back for a light doze. Pauline sat gazing out the window while Helen was knitting to pass the time away (she always carried yarn and knitting needles in her purse).

"You know, it's funny," Pauline said. "I always wanted to visit France; now that place is going to be my home for now."

Helen put down her knitting. "Yeah, funny. Hey Pauline, I wanted to thank you for getting me onboard with the Silkworms."

"You're welcome. That's what friends are for, right? After Nadine accepted me, there was no way I would let you or your ladies stay on the losing side."

For comments, suggestions, or story ideas contact the author at shrewsberry@juno.com.

#2007, Barefoot Heroines, Inc.