Episode XX - Tamara By Motif Tamara watched the white robed woman disappear into the darkened two story house, a silent swirl of white cloth in the blackness of an open doorway and then nothing. A frown tugged down the corners of the young capoestra's wide mobile mouth and the smooth brown skin of her brow furrowed as she puzzled over the instructions she been given. Her wide shapely nostrils flared as she breathed in the night air, warm and heavy with moisture, a sure sign of an impending storm. Strong shoulders shrugged beneath the riotous colors of her blouse and the young arena warrior turned on her heel and with a gentle clicking sound of beaded corn rows she was gone... --------------------- Diana watched the low black mass of clouds advancing down the valley like an invading army. Heat lighting gave the Baruch family matriarch glimpses of the cloud's interiors, accompanied a few seconds later by the complaining grumble of distant thunder. Metal clicked on metal as Diana's beringed hands grasped balcony's wrought iron railing and leaned, frowning at approaching autumn storm front, mulling over the recent past. Events hadn't been kind to her immediate family, though the fortunes of the clan in general were advancing nicely. Her eldest daughter, Alexia, was still in the hospital recuperating from her foolish fight with Ms. Mikaela. Diana was still a little disappointed with the heir to the clan matriarchy, wishing for the millionth time that Alexia had the brains to match her muscles. Thoughts of her eldest led Diana to the more painful matter of her murdered second daughter, Crystal. Even as she'd received the news from her niece Sandra that the cruel young woman was dead, Diana had felt a guilty twinge of relief; it didn't seem right for a mother to feel that way. Still, she'd been her child and however...troublesome she'd been, Crystal had to be revenged on the slut who had killed her. But the Baruch family matriarch reserved her deepest disappointment for her youngest daughter. Diana couldn't understand Daniele's constant willful rebellion against her. Despite all the training, education, and every advantage money could buy the young woman had still managed to lose her freedom to a member of their rival clan whom she'd had no business fighting in the first place. It had been the last straw for Diana and, though she'd privately regretted it later, she'd publicly announced that there would be no ransom for Daniele. She could rot with the Shimmuras. A cold wet breeze sprang up, a presage of the coming storm and Diana pulled the pale purple nightgown she wore closer about her lean body. A shiver ran through her wiry frame and she spared a curse for the weather and the woman who was keeping her waiting. The matriarch didn't like dealing with her faceless agent, despite the results she consistently delivered. But this evening she had a special job for the mysterious white robed woman, a final coup-de-gras for the rival Shimmura clan. --------------------- Tamara's eyes narrowed suspiciously at the sight of the figure standing in the shadow of main administration building. The woman couldn't possibly have gotten ahead of her, and anyway this person looked several inches shorter than the woman she'd left at the Baruch's townhouse. But aside from that the familiar voluminous white robe brought on a weird feeling of deja-vu in the young capoestra. The figure gestured for silence as Tamara approached and she bit back the angry question that had been forming on her lips and lowered her voice. "What the hel is going on?" she whispered, stopping a safe distance from her contact. "Loose ends." the woman answered cryptically. Tamara's tart reply was cut off as her contact interrupted. "Just make sure no one goes in after I enter." she ordered, nodding to the locked fire door. "Then you can personally touch off the powder keg." Somewhat mollified by the woman's promise, Tamara moved into the shadows by the door... --------------------- The computer screen's fitful green glow illuminated the sparsely furnished apartment, making dim shadows flicker and dance behind the robed woman sitting before the terminal. Victoria's fingers flew expertly over the keyboard, her face creased in concentration as she typed in the last of the symbols printed on the crumpled sheet of paper. A satisfied smile curved the junior official's pale puffy lips and, with a final tap of a key, her cryptography program went to work. Rows of numbers marched up the screen, glowing like newly minted money while Victoria leaned back in her chair and wondered tiredly at the contents of the coded document. It had been a exhausting night. A second tryst with the seemingly indefatigable Dalia had left her every muscle trembling with delicious fatigue. Much to her own amazement, Victoria had found herself thoroughly enjoying her superior officer's energetic sexual technique and, by the time the petite blond officer had at long last left her apartment, Victoria had found herself regretting having deceived her new lover. Alone her quarters Victoria had fairly burned with curiosity as to the contents of the paper Rhonda had given her earlier. Gaining the privacy of her small apartment she had to force herself to attend to the multitude of scratches and bruises covering her weary frame. Victoria hurriedly showered and carelessly threw on an old blue terry cloth bathrobe before, paper in hand, she'd sat at her desk before the powerful personal computer hunched atop it. While her computer worked on the code, Victoria brought up her communications software. Her computer buzzed and beeped as it communed with the arena's mainframe and a few impatient moments later, she used the codes Mina had obtained months ago to skate through the larger computer's security system. As they always did, Victoria's wide brown eyes sparkled with delight and avarice as she wielded the security codes like a club, bludgeoning her way through the complex mainframe. Despite the intense sexual athletics that had so exhausted her earlier, a warm tingle spread through her body as she began accessing the arena's scheduling database. Lists of matches scrolled by; warrior profiles, personal histories, family associations, every detail was hers to view and, if she chose, manipulate. Victoria began to breath in short, shallow pants; her face flushed with excitement as she ordered the mainframe to bring up the records for the next month. Completely absorbed in her work, Victoria was oblivious to the soft clicking sound coming from her apartment's door. ------------------- Diana shivered again and turned her back to the approaching storm and had to suppress a gasp of surprise at the sight of her agent standing in the open double doors that led to the balcony. The Baruch matriarch frowned at the white robed figure, annoyed at the woman's having taken her unawares and at herself as well for having allowed it. "I'm getting too old for this." she thought to herself. Maybe she could consider retirement once Alexia was out of the hospital, but not now, there was far too much to do. "Did you find her?" Diana asked abruptly. "She's staying with the new L.I.W. captain, Lana." "I know who Lana is." Diana snapped back peevishly. "Dammit! That complicates things." "She's been there for quite some time." The older woman frowned at her mysterious agent while considered the implications. She had intended to capture the Shimmura girl and have her dragged in chains to a public trial, it would have been terminally humiliating to her already banned rivals. But even the matriarch of the most powerful clan in the arena had to walk carefully around the independent arena warriors. "Can you get to her?" She asked at last, and received a shrug followed a moment later by a nod. "Then kill the bitch." Diana stated firmly. "I'll pay you two thousand for that Tatyana creature's head." The white robed woman didn't answer immediately, but seemed to be considering the proposition. Diana folded her arms beneath her breasts as she awaited her answer, confident that the woman would take the assignment. The silence between them was broken only by the sound of the nearing storm and the cool wind was picking up steadily, ruffling the older woman's short graying blond hair and stirring the folds of the woman's voluminous robe and Diana almost lost her answer in another loud crack of thunder. "No." the woman said. drawing a hand from the folds of her robe and pointing the flat, black automatic pistol she held at her erstwhile employer. The flabbergasted matriarch was so surprised that the white robed woman had to shoot her twice. ------------------- Victoria had just begun to look for a profitable match for her friend when her computer beeped, informing her that the cryptography program had broken the code. "That was fast." she muttered, bringing up the program's window. Encrypted in a fairly simple algorithmic code, the document was an invoice, detailing a number of purchases from an armaments company. Most of the items listed were late model small arms; cheap surplus weaponry superannuated by more powerful or efficient models. At the end of the list, Victoria's trained accountant's eye noticed an account number from which the funds for the purchase had been issued. A smile graced Victoria's lips as she recognized the accounts format. It was an arena account. Again Victoria's fingers flew over the keyboard, bringing back her communications screen, accessing an area of the arena's mainframe with which she was intimately familiar. It took a half dozen passwords to gain full access to the 'Valkyrie' command screen, usually restricted only to the first administrator. Though she occupied the third most important position in the arena's financial department, Victoria had never had full access to this area. "Goddess!" she exclaimed aloud, reading the name of the account's owner and the impressively huge sum it contained. "She must have been squirreling away money for years!" Victoria sat stunned as a long list of transactions, nearly all of them old deposits, marched down her screen. Scrolling down the long list of numbers, the astonished woman noticed that the last few transactions were more recent withdrawals. "That can't be right." she muttered to herself. "She couldn't possibly get to her account now." Victoria leaned forward and ordered the computer to bring up the destination of the withdrawals. Absorbed in this new mystery, the soft sound of cloth rustling behind her went completely unnoticed. ------------------ Diana stumbled back against the balcony's ornate wrought iron railing, her hands half raised before her in a useless defensive gesture. Pain flared through the matriarch's chest as she gaped in astonishment at the white robed woman's gun, wisps of smoke curling from the short barrel to be whisked away in the strengthening wind. "Wha...what!" she gasped at the woman. "How...how dare...I'll..." Life stealing numbness crept like a thief through Diana's trembling frame and she looked down at her chest. Two small ragged holes dotted the purple silk of her robe high up on her chest and the dreadfully wounded matriarch's eye's widened as she watched blood stream from the two wounds to stain her night gown in ever widening red circles. Diana's eyes bulged in alarm and her beringed hands fluttered over her chest like a pair of jeweled birds. "Don't...believe..." the stricken matriarch croaked and with an incredulous grunt, slid down the cold iron railing. ------------------ As the computer began it's search, a high pitched whipping sound whispered through the dark apartment. Victoria's shining brown eyes widened and she frozen in complete shock as something thin and cold wrapped around her throat. Suddenly breathless, her hands jerked upward reflexively, clawing at constricting silk cord cutting cruelly into the soft skin of her throat. Her attacker pushed Victoria's chair forward, trapping her against the desk as her victim's hands raised automatically to futilely claw at the strangling cord cutting off her air. Staring at the computer screen, Victoria caught a reflection of the white robed figure standing behind her, it's hood thrown back to reveal raven black hair surrounding a savagely grinning face and her already shock wide eyes brightened in understanding before her vision began to dim. Letting out strained shriek, she left off trying to pull the cord from her throat and her hands darted to the keyboard before her. Gripping one end of the keyboard, she jerked it over her head and the screen before her went crazy as the plastic board impacted her attacker's head with a rattling crack. The woman behind her took a step back, more out of surprise than any real damage the keyboard had caused and Victoria dropped her improvised weapon, grasped the woman's hands and leapt to her feet. The chair shot back as she stood, bumping her attacker's knees and the tall arena official took advantage of her foe's momentary distraction. Wrenching herself to one side, Victoria swung the raven haired woman off balance, making her stumble in a short arc before fetching up hard against the desk. Her attacker lost her grip on the strangling cord and Victoria lurched forward, the pressure letting up on her constricted throat. She wheeled on her attacker and stumbled backward on wobbly legs as she tore the cord away and gasped in a huge lungfull of much needed air. Panic tore through her at the sight of her would be killer recovering herself and drawing a leaf bladed knife from the folds of her concealing robe. "I thought you loved her!" Victoria exclaimed. "I liked Erika just fine." Nadja replied cooly, drawing her arm back. "But I needed her money." With her eye's bulging in their sockets as much from her attacker's identity as from her near death by strangulation, Victoria spun around and ran for the door. ----------------------- The white robed woman cautiously approached Diana, keeping her weapon pointed at the ominously still form. The older woman sat on the cold concrete balcony, back propped against the black metal railing, arms limp at her sides. The blond matriarch's gown had hiked up her legs as she'd slid down and now her bare legs were splayed before her, strong scarred limbs that once must have been quite fetching. Crouching next to her victim, the woman yanked Diana's robe open, callously displaying her pale white body to the cool night air. Fat drops of rain began to splat on the balcony around the two women and a peal of thunder rolled almost directly overhead. Blood smeared Diana's wounded chest and small, slightly sagging breasts, startling red against her pale skin. A slender gold chain glinted at her waist below a long thin scar that rode the round beginnings of her stomach and her killer reached out to grasp the chain. With a jerk the white robed woman tore the chain from Diana's waist, but before she could stand a hand shot up to grasp the black gloved wrist in which she held her token. The woman gave a startled jerk and the sudden movement made her hood fell part way down, releasing a fall of golden blonde hair that had been tucked neatly away behind her head. Diana raised her head to stare at her assailant, her brown eye's wide and glassy but still aware as she held on to the woman's wrist with a desperate crushing grip. "You'll..." she gasped hoarsely, her voice failing as she expelled her last breath. "You'll destroy...everything." The white robed woman froze for a startled moment, then swung her weapon around to shoot the dying matriarch again. But the trembling blood spattered body before her relaxed and her victim's head dropped forward onto her unmoving chest, dead at last. The blond killer let out a shaky breath and jerked her wrist from the dead woman's clawed hand, rising slowly to her feet as she looked down at her victim. "Don't bet on it auntie." Sandra said. As the rain drops began to patter regularly around her, she pulled her hood back up and turned to stride back into the empty house, leaving Diana's pale lifeless body alone and exposed to the thundering sky. ----------------------- Nadja's knife drew a shriek from her victim it struck the fleeing woman squarely between her shoulder blades. Victoria's shoulder collided hard with the door, one hand scrabbling desperately at the door knob as she fought to stay erect on suddenly wobbly legs, the other clutching the blue terrycloth over her chest. The raven haired woman watched impassively as her stricken target sank to her knees, both hands tugging weakly at the door that Nadja had had the foresight to lock behind her. With a breathless groan of frustration the arena official fell onto her side, her legs kicking weakly as agony overwhelmed her tall frame. A couple strides took Nadja to the spot where her victim lay and she knelt to jerk her knife from the dying woman's quivering body. She rolled Victoria onto her back, looked down into her suffering face, and in a single brutal movement cut the brunette woman's throat. "Nothing personal." she murmured as she watched the light in her victim's horrified eyes slowly fade. "But I've got a revolution to start tonight." ----------------------- Tamara strode down the wide white gravel street that bisected the arena and served as it's major artery. Cool rain fell from the night time sky, thunder cracked and rumbled, making the street lights flicker as if to warn of an impending blackout. The rain plastered Tamara's clothes to her athletic body, but the young arena warrior's pace was unhurried and a wide smile split her angular features. She had one last task to perform and she looked forward to it with relish. Only a few people inhabited the normally busy street, mostly male slaves tending to errands that their mistress' didn't think it worth getting wet for. Tamara dug into her pocket and retrieved a small object as she neared the spot where her first contact waited. The slave was young and pale and thoroughly soaked as he stood in front of a moderately expensive tailor, his short blond hair plastered to his head, a package tucked under one arm as if her were waiting for his owner to leave the shop. Normally the young capoestra didn't care to touch males, unless to use them for pleasure, but this time was different. She paused a moment before the bedraggled young man, favoring him with a brilliant smile as she took his hand and pressed the token into his palm. The slave stared at her in bewilderment for a moment, stunned by Tamara's unusual behavior and the soft touch of her fingers brushing his palm, then looked down at the small caliber bullet she'd placed in his hand. A wide hopeful grin spread across his youthful face as he realized what the token meant, but before he could stutter out a word the tall woman had passed him by. Clenching his fist around the token, he took off at a run to deliver the message the bullet implied. Tamara turned to watch the boy go, admiring his lean young body as he ran, looking like a slave hurrying to deliver the package he held in the crook of one arm. She felt a momentary twinge of regret at what she knew would be the boy's probable fate, but then, he was only a man after all. Resuming her jaunty pace Tamara strode toward her next contact, cheerfully unleashing the dogs of war. --------------------------------- ------------------------------------------- Copyright 1998 - Wet Hen Productions