A House Divided - Chapter 8

Chapter Eight:

Double your Pleasure

 Claire was grateful for the air-conditioned cab. The humid dank air still hung in the morning sun. The monsoons were, at best, still a week away.  Each new day became more oppressively hot and sticky than the last, while the lengthening night-time rain did little to cool the air in Bangkok.  Soon, however, the long wished-for rains would cool the parched earth and renew the land for another growing season. Their gift, though, came with a price; all activity came to a halt, giving Claire Baxter, COIL agent, an ever-tightening time frame in which to work.

 “Take me to the PKC Tower please,” she relayed to the cab driver as they sped away from the airport terminal toward the heart of the city.

 Bangkok, one of Asia’s “little tigers,” had road the economic miracle to prosperity until the Asian currency crisis and highly questionable banking practices had plunged it and other countries into deep financial trouble, a spiral from which it still had not fully recovered.  Scores of large multi-national overnight success disappeared as the Thai currency, the Bhat, devalued, collapsing the house of cards upon which most were built.  PKC was a different story; it had not only survived, but actually thrived and grown, swallowing up wounded or bankrupt enterprises with a seemingly inexhaustible supply of money.  The one-time maker of circuit boards now counted among its growing empire banks, telecommunications, railroads, logging and real estate holdings, the latter of interest to COIL.

 PKC, even with its deep pockets, needed foreign cash and, more importantly, expertise to develop some of its island real estate holdings that dotted the coast of Thailand into vacation resorts that would appeal to westerners.  Claire was to provide that expertise, posing as a representative of Osprey Investment Partners, one of the suitors for PKC.  Her real objective was to locate and retrieve the next piece of the chip design that PKC had, but just where they’d hidden it remained a closely guarded secret, as did so much of what the company actually did.

            The cab zigzagged through the streets dodging rikshaws, motorbikes, scooters, the odd foolish pedestrian and other cars until, by some miracle, they arrived unscathed at the office tower.  The modern glass and steel obelisk was of no special design, except that it stacked many people high into the sky, one floor above another.   Claire gave the cabby a generous tip and instructions to take her luggage to the beach house she had rented. She then darted as quickly as humanly possible from the dense air to the cool of the office tower.  She checked in at security and had her briefcase and purse thoroughly searched before obtaining her pass and heading for the elevator. The ride took her to the executive offices for her meeting with Mr. P.K. Charong, president and owner of PKC Industries, and his staff.

 “Welcome to PKC Industries, Miss Baxter.  I’m Retana Choi San, Head of Security,” said an attractive woman in her mid-thirties to Claire as she stepped off the elevator and shook her pre-offered hand. 

“Mr. Charong is waiting in the boardroom with the executive team.  This way please,” said Retana with a motion of her hand indicating the direction. 

 The two businesswomen covered the distance toward the large teak boardroom doors in a brisk fashion, Retana moving ahead at the end to hold the door open for Claire, who entered with a nod of thanks into a large opulently decorated room.  Raised mahogany panelling covered the walls throughout. A massive teak horseshoe-shaped conference table dominated the main part of the room, but still left ample space for a large corner full-service bar and eating area behind, all richly appointed.  A massive projection screen dominated the head of the room. The floor, not to be outdone, was covered with a plush red carpet that finished the stately room with an air of elegance.

 The customary introductions concluded, Claire plugged in her laptop, connected the USP cable and began her PowerPoint presentation detailing Osprey’s asset power, developed projects and its unique position and expertise for this type of project.  She caught glances from some executives at her assets from time to time out of the corner of her eye; she also caught Retana eyeing her as well, but with a much more jaundiced vision.  The smiles all round told her she’d been successful as her presentation came to an end. Now it was their turn.

 “Excellent, Miss Baxter!  Now, let me show you exactly what we plan to develop,” Mr. Charong said.

  On this command the room went dark and the large screen at the front of the room flashed to life.

  “Four islands off the mainland, each to be developed with a specific group in mind.  Single, married, retired and finally, families, all nestled in amongst this group of islands,” the president said as the movie showed a large overhead computer generated picture of the archipelago PKC owed.  Luxury hotels, pools, spas and casinos, all custom designed for each demographic!” Mr. Charong said proudly as the screen displayed 3D models of the proposed resorts.  Claire paid close attention and made notes as he droned on.

Finally, it came to a mercifully end and the lights came up.  “Very impressive and visionary, sir!  Of course, before I can present any kind of financial proposal, I’ll need detailed access to all the data regarding island geography, weather patterns for the area, building costs, transportation, and the like.  It should only take me one or two days at most to complete the assignment, once I have the information,” she said with a smile and a cross of her legs.
 
            “You work fast Miss Baxter. I hope you're not careless in your job,” Retana barbed.

 “In my line of work, a careless mistake can be fatal, as it regards returns on investments made,” Claire shot back, sweet tones masking her venom.

            Mr. Charong seized the moment to jump in.  “Of course, Miss Baxter, Retana will arrange an office for you to work in.  One thing, though, we are a completely wireless office. Is your laptop properly equipped to handle this?”

 “My cell phone will act as my wireless modem,” the spy said, holding it up.  “When can I get started?”

            “If you’ll come with me, Miss Baxter, I’ll set you up right away,” Retana said.  She escorted her charge to a vacant corner office, made a call and in several minutes the COIL agent had access to their computer network.
            “Very impressive display of efficiency,” Claire stated.

 “I hope you are as impressive, Miss Baxter,” Retana said as she left, closing the door a little harder than it needed to be, emphasising her point.
 
            Claire gave her no more thought as she dove strait into her task.  She quickly located all the data on the islands she could from the files provided. It was the files she wasn’t provided with that she wanted more. Her attempts to hack into them, however, all met with failure. 

“The short-comings of an Arts Degree!” she joked to herself in frustration. “I think I need to go for a walk to clear my head before I try again,” she said to herself as she locked her computer and reached for her cell phone.

The spy entered a six-digit code and the screen came alive, switching from a cell phone to a scanner and recorder, just the tool she needed to break into the secure access files.

 Claire left her office and began her journey around the floor, stopping to talk to various employees at workstations. At each her cell phone scanner recorded their computers' ESN signatures.  She needed to be sure she could obtain the access she wanted and who better than the Head of Security to ensure that!  Claire made for Retana’s office under the guise of asking how late she could stay and work.  Fortune was smiling on the COIL agent. Retana was not there, but her computer was on and logged in. The spy bent over the PC and scanned it.

 “What are you doing in my office!” boomed a raised voice from behind.

            “I’m sorry,” Claire answered.  “I came to ask you how late I could work, but seeing you weren’t in, I was just looking for a piece of paper so I could leave you a note.”

 Retana studied the woman carefully with suspicious eyes for several seconds.  “You can work to 6 p.m., at which time you have to leave. Your pass is only good to then.  Now, if that is all, please leave my office. In the future, never come in unless I’m here to invite you!  Is that clear?”

 “I have all the information I need now, thanks to you.  I won’t trouble you again.” Claire said as she turned on her lovely heel and breezed out of the office.

 The Head of Security once again closed the door a little to forcefully just after her departure, the blast of air touching the spy’s neck as she went.  Retana went over to her desk and began her work both with pen and PC until something alerted her.  She checked a few things, then looked up and smiled.

  “You may not be troubling me, Miss Baxter, but I most assuredly will be troubling you!”

 Retana’s pass codes gave Claire all the access she needed; the part was located, as she suspected, on one of the islands not slated for development.  It was, however, heavily defended on several fronts. First, a radar-scanning field covered the whole island from the air and, in fact, it appeared the part of the chip she was after was running the radar-scanning field!  The waters were mined and the jungle island appeared to be almost impenetrable. Who knew what kind of dangers it held?  The part was located in an old temple near the far end, again heavily guarded by a team of five.  Claire saved all the data for closer examination later when she was alone.  She finished her fictitious analysis for the day, packed up and went to see Mr. Charong.

 “I have all the information I need from your database. Another day's work and I’ll have my report finished,” she smiled from across the desk.

 “Excellent. I hope things are looking favourably for us working closely together?” he smiled back.

            “I’m positive of success,” Claire intoned.  “I’m going to work from my place tomorrow. I'll crunch some numbers and meet with you and your team the next day, if that's convenient, of course.”

 “I’ll schedule the meeting for 9 a.m.,” he said, making a note in his day timer.  “We’ll see you then.”

 Claire shook hands and left the office.

 A side door to the office opened and Retana walked in and sat down.  “She’s quite a good actress isn’t she?” the Head of Security posed.

 “I trust we won’t be having a repeat performance in two days time?” Mr. Charong asked reclining in his chair.

“I overheard you mentioning looking forward to a close working relationship.  I do hope Miss Baxter enjoys it also, but somehow I think she’ll find it a little too confining for her liking!” Retana said, poison coating her tongue as they both smiled.

 Claire danced quickly down the path as the rain began to fall – droplets at first, then a dense sheet of rain so thick it seemed as if you could reach out and part it with your hand.  The precursors of the Monsoon season had arrived. A torrential downpour would fall most of the night, then clear. It would be hot and humid all the next day, only to see the rains return after sunset.  The pattern would repeat for several days until the rains came and stayed, settling in for several months.

 Humid stale air pushed in all around Claire’s beach house, invading every corner, smothering anything it could. Claire peeled off her clinging clothes, already moist from a combination of sweat, rain and dampness, tossing them into the hamper for the maid to try and somehow restore to life.  Her naked body cooled somewhat in the air, grateful at last to be free of its artificial bindings, as was her face when she removed her makeup at the vanity before departing to the bathroom for a little pleasure and relaxation, namely a soak in a refreshing tub of water.

 A long while later she reluctantly emerged from the water and entered the large main room of her house.  As was the Thai tradition, all the furniture, what there was of it, had been placed up against the walls, leaving the main room open to cool breezes, if any were aloft.  She padded herself dry and began to lubricate her body with Lotus water to help maintain her skin tone. As she carefully rubbed it in, she was unaware of two silent assassins who were gliding towards her!

 Her lotion finally applied, she rose to make her way to the bedroom, when they struck, from behind, one high, the other low!  Some sixth sense alerted the spy, who blocked their kicks with a raised hand and knee before quickly back flipping away from her attackers, coming to rest in a fighting stance, her body tensed, ready to strike!

The COIL agent beheld her adversaries: two small, Thai twin girls, maybe 16 or 17, each just over five feet in height. Very long, straight black hair, which reached all the way down to their waists, framing their pretty, although imperious, faces. They were quite slim with above-average looks. Long limbs – thin, but not weak – extended from their bare torsos, which featured breasts of round domes, without a hint of sag. Their only adornment was blue polish on the nails of their fingers and toes. The pair’s unblemished, hairless brown skin was on full display, as each was stark naked.
 
            “Pretty lady . . .” said one twin.

 “. . . smells sweet,” said the other.

 The twin assassinettes wasted no time as they advanced and attacked, again one high and the other low, with assorted kicks and punches in the Thai boxing style of martial arts.  The lower attacking girl flurried sharp jabs and spin kicks at Claire’s legs, her style like that of a break dancer as she rotated like a top around the spy’s legs!  The besieged agent deftly blocked the onslaught with one leg, moving it up and down her body in rapid pumps until she saw an opening. Claire delivered a solid kick to the opponent’s stomach, followed up with an inside short kick to the head, sending her first young assailant rolling away with the force of the blow.

 The sister flailed into Claire’s upper body and chest, using her considerable Thai boxing skills as well. Again Claire volleyed the blows, arm-barred this second attacker and flipped her hard to the floor, depositing her next to her equally unsuccessful twin.
 
            “Pretty lady is good . . .”

 “. . . but we are better!” the twins said one after the other, which seemed to be their natural way of speaking.

 Claire was nearly upon them; ready to finish the fight, when they reacted.  One rolled away, the other; spread eagle on her stomach, dashed away on her hands and feet, her body barely separated from the floor. The girls tried again, this time from front and back, as before one high, the other low. This time, some blows scored. They were not heavy hits, but effective nevertheless.

            The battle raged on in this pattern for some time. Darkness had overtaken the arena of combat and with no lights on, Claire had to adjust to the shadows while silhouetted.  The twins took advantage, hiding in the recess of darkness and striking when they could do the most damage.  The front-to-back, high-low technique of attack began to work more efficiently and effectively with each session. More blows found home as the double-teamed spy’s chest began to heave for air in the stale, humid environment.  The rain further covered the stealthy movements of the girls, masking what little noise they made in a wall of crashing water, permitting them to garner the perfect positions from which to strike. Claire moved carefully about, scanning and straining her eyes into the dark corners of the room for one or both of them.

 “Pretty lady is weakening . . .”

 “. . . and will be ours soon!” the second twin finished.

 The spy absorbed several more rounds of hit and run, draining her energy.  The twins danced from place to place, waiting for the right moment to unleash their trap.  Claire stepped cautiously about the dark room, her eyes adjusting, but not fully adapted, when the girls sprung upon her! She was their prisoner before she could react!

 One girl wrapped her legs around Claire’s waist as her arms secured the agent’s legs, her head hanging at Claire’s knees! Her sister enfolded the spy’s upper body, the tops of this girl’s feet pressed into the back of Claire’s neck as the upper twin’s legs tightening around Claire’s sides. This girl’s hands caught the spy’s arms, pulled them down behind Claire’s back, twisting them around each other as she went. The upper girl then locked her own hands in Claire’s!

 The surprised agent shimmied her body to try to dislodge her assassins. When that proved useless, she bent, flexed and twisted – but all in vain. The girls clung to her like leeches.

            “Pretty lady is trapped . . .”

 “. . . soon we tie in knot!”

            The COIL agent worked her entangled form at a fevered pitch to free it, but all to no avail. The girls had a perfect lock about her!  The heat and the ceaseless effort to free herself slowly weakened Claire. The twins drew inward on her, banding their bodies to hers.  The girls giggled with glee as they felt her increasingly helpless body fall victim to their ministrations!

 With deliberate effort, the girls commenced to twist their prey in opposite directions. Claire tensed wildly, trying to combat their actions and hold her beleaguer body straight!  What the twins lacked in power, they more than made up for in technique. They worked as a team, in almost a symbiotic relationship with each other. Claire could almost imagine them telepathically feeding energy and information to each other, in order to defeat their much larger and stronger foe. The stagnant, humid air closed around the wreathed spy as much as the twins did. Finally, the combination of forces took effect. Claire fell to the floor with the girls wrapped about her, their prisoner at last, completely under their control!

 Her entwined body got a momentary respite when the twins took stock of their position. Claire tried to take advantage by thumping her body into theirs, trying to destroy their grip . . . but it was no use.

 Satisfied with their cling and positioning, the twins began to revolve her about the large open-spaced room! Legs and arms within the cylinder of females started to shift, taking on new shapes with each revolution.  Claire was a piece of clay for them to mould into whatever shape they desired their bodies the perfect substitutes for a skilled potter’s hands.  The sheathed spy battled the girls’ bodies the best she could, but each position was expertly applied about her, her superior strength neutralised by their cunning.

The pancake of bodies began to mould themselves into a ball as the rolling gave way to somersaults, both forward and backward. The twins increased their weave into her, repositioning her cocooned form within theirs until they brought the carousel to a stop in the very place they had started – only now the situation and results were much different!
 
            “Pretty lady entangled . . .”

 “. . . in Thai Death Knot!”

 Claire could not move a muscle. She had been totally consumed in the girl’s bodies in a mere matter of minutes!

 The twins enveloped her magnificently, one from the back, the other from the front. Their trained lethal bodies enmeshed inexorably into hers; their limbs coiled about hers; their bodies welded to hers! She was bound in their twisted interlaced ensnarement, creating a perplexity of tangles she had to undo – but how? Her captured body had been drained of all its power in the Knot. The slightest movement was impossible. She was utterly a prisoner of the girls . . . and the Knot!

 To complicate matters even further, Claire knew next to nothing about multiple human knots. The recruiting and training of initiates and, most importantly, the knots themselves were all closely guarded secrets, just as her special brand of Yoga was, passed on by a master to his/her students.

            “Anything that can be tied, can be untied,” she told herself, ‘and the end of the thread is always the best place to start!’

 Then Claire realised she was not yet close to death –  or even in any real pain! Claire didn’t understand. What was the point?

 Then, suddenly, the full enormity of the Knot’s horror struck! She understood. This stage was just to weaken her, to sap her strength, to prepare her for what was to come.

 “Death Knot will . . .”

 “. . . kill you slowly!”

 The twins screwed their bodies into hers, cinching her as often as the Knot allowed.   The surrounded woman now had to contend with the girls’ body heat. Unlike a cold-blooded snake, the warm-blooded twins created a steaming blanket, further sapping her reserves to resist.

 The one-sided battle went on unabated for several hours. Claire’s sweltering form was knitted in place by her look-alike assassins, whose perfect convolution of Claire neutralised her otherwise deadly body. She was left to the merciless onslaught as their crushing embrace drew slowly inward on her!

            The rain finally stopped its drone and a light offshore breeze promised a brief respite from the humid tropical air.  The pair was cooled as the air caressed their pliant bodies, drawing refreshment from it, but their victim was not! Their suffocating clasp had fused her to them, allowing nothing to penetrate except their sinuous, snaking death!

 The Knot advanced about Claire slowly, pulling its human thread more deeply into her. She was a prisoner of the Thai Death Knot, sentenced to hours of endless heat, exhaustion and then, finally, death in its crucible of constriction!

 Several hours later, the twins conjoined as the spy found herself embraced on both cheeks by the girls, further fusing them as one in a fatal cuddle!  Claire had endured over five hours of torturous coiling in the twins’ bodies. Her flexibility and suppleness had served her well, buying her time to try and figure out some way to undo the interweaving of the lethal young women.

            The twins were unhurried, almost leisurely, content to let the Knot work itself about Claire. The Thai Death Knot would eventually ebb her will. Their girdle about her was total. Even her pliable form would submit in time!

 Claire’s body was burning up in the torrid heat of the twin’s cleave. She was battling to stay conscious, but to stay conscious to do what, she didn’t know!

            No one had spoken in hours, but suddenly a voice whispered into her left ear. “Pretty lady very hot.”
            Its twin whispered into her right. “Give up. No escape is possible.”

 The twins continued to whisper alternately into her ears, cooing seductively.

            “Death Knot has you.”

 “We have you.”

 “We are not tired.”

 “You are exhausted and weak.”

 “Pretty lady, submit to the Thai Death Knot.”

“Resistance only bring more pain before death.”

 Claire refused to yield to their seductive envelopment. She fought on as they wound into her, fluidly pinching the Knot inward. Eventually, Claire began to feel the long-promised pain creep into her. Even her lithe body had its limits.

 The wiry duo sensed her growing agony. They turned in the Knot ever so slightly, twisting and wrenching their helpless victim. The pair drew even more deeply into Claire, snaking their encasement of her further and further.

            The bundled spy endured two more hours of endlessly growing pressure within their cauldron of knots. Her hopes were reduced to praying the twins’ muscles cramped before she was finished by their bodily death. It had now been seven hours since she had felt freedom from the Thai Death Knot.

 The assassinettes entwinement was so perfect and effective, that it was defeating Claire without even giving her a chance to battle against it. They continued to work their monolith of death around her.  Claire’s steaming body, slick with sweat, lubricated her and the twins, glistening the trio in her labours. The perspiration lubricant, however, proved ineffective against the girls. It failed to relax the Knot in the slightest.

 The twins possessed the perfect bodies for their chosen means of execution.  Young, elastic and thin, their natural assets, honed by expert training, gave them the ability to ply their lethal trade with complete confidence in the ultimate result.  They tirelessly tweezed and spooled their snakelike encoilment about Claire’s much larger body, subduing and crushing it in their sinewy trap.  The two young bodies, animated with the prospect of delivering death, worked the ancient art to perfection, serpentining Claire deeper into the Knot. Her agony increasing with each twist and tense of their nubile anatomies.

 The quiet voice came again into her left ear. “Pretty lady feel the pain we deliver?”

            The girl on her right kissed Claire softly on the cheek before whispering, “You want more of us?”
            “Pretty lady in so much pain,” the girl on her left said in mock sympathy. She, too, delivered a kiss of death.
            “Your flexibility is almost gone,” taunted the other.
            “Pretty lady’s body . . .”

 “. . . broken in Thai Death Knot.”

            Claire’s punished body, unable to move, was completely at their mercy – and they offered none!  Each fateful slip drew the Knot tighter around her, until the pain was finally pushed to the surface. To the girls’ delight, a low moans escaped Claire’s lips. They rolled over on their sides.

 “Scream, pretty lady!” yelled one girl.
 
            “Scream or we continue to break you slowly!” added the other.

 Claire refused to give in to the girl’s wishes. She held in the pain to frustrate them. The agent had grown so desperate; she grasped any advantage at this point.

The twins continued to work themselves about her, feeling her body as they coiled – pulsing, tensing, turning, and drawing into her with each minute. Their corkscrewing frames worked a few more turns . . . until finally their goal was realised! Their feet touched then snaked over each other, locking together. The Thai Death Knot had now reached its conclusion. Claire was sealed into the last stage. Death loomed in front of her.
 
            “Pretty lady be . . .”

 “. . . dead soon.” Their voices had returned to a whisper.

 “Pretty lady . . .”

 “. . . die slow.”

 The young snakes had succeeded. They’d coiled a much larger, stronger opponent, held her, weakened her and now were going to enjoy the fruits of their labours. Their victim was finished at last. It was inevitable.

 “When you try to pull a knot loose, you put tension on a certain part to try and pry it apart.  If that doesn’t work, you put tension on another area, leaving the first area alone.  For a multi- knot, if you pull at both ends you just work it tighter.  If you loosen less tangled knots in the middle, it gives you more play on the ends with which to unravel,” Claire thought to herself as she tried to logically figure out the trap and push her mind away from the pain coursing through her tormented body.  She’d been doing this since her capture, but still the answer eluded her.  Time was running out!

 Then, suddenly, the twins rolled her upright again. This time it was to finish her!  She was elevated in the Knot, her feet off the floor. Their feet, having locked together when on their sides, had forced her up in the Knot. Now gravity would pull her down and to her death! Her perspiration was now lubricating the fatal fall.

It was a most insidious death. Everything worked against the victim and nothing for her. There seemed to be no escape!
 
            “Pretty lady feel . . .”

 “. . . the pain a long time.”

            “We let pretty lady . . .”

 “ . . . slip slowly.”

 They giggled conspiratorially. “Maybe we pull pretty lady . . .”

 “. . . up a little.”

 “Let pretty lady . . .”

 “ . . . slip again.”

 “Pretty lady be . . .”

 “. . . here for hours.”

 “Scream, pretty lady, and . . .”

            “. . . we let you die quickly.”

 Claire knew what the girls had in mind: to make her suffer until she screamed and begged for mercy, something she’d never do! Besides, she doubted they’d keep their promise, anyway. The young sadists would probably relish her cries and pleas, enjoying breaking her spirit as well as her body.  Claire resolved to keep the battle going on that front. At least then they’d never have total victory!

 This stage of the Thai Death Knot had every inch of her within its creeping death except her toes, which she had been carefully moving every few minutes during this part of her ordeal to keep blood pumping through her tangled legs, in order to prevent them from going numb. This was the technique taught to soldiers whilst standing at attention for long periods of time to keep them from passing out. She told herself should she somehow find a way to disentangle her body, she wanted as much of it working as possible– when it hit her!  She, by her very small, seemingly insignificant movements, had been entangling herself in the Knot!

The diabolical nature of the Knot crystallised in her mind. Victims instinctively moved the only part of their body left free, but their own natural reactions tightened the Knot.  In effect, they tied themselves to death, the authors of their own demise. The twins just acted as the catalyst for their fatal movements!  Slowly, she began to formulate a plan.
 

 “If small, imperceptible motions of the only free part a person had tightened the Knot, how would the Knot react to the entire body within it convulsing at once?  Might the multitude of reaction points overwhelm the girls’ ability to control their instrument of death and free me? In effect, creating a sensory overload that would rip the Knot apart?  But am I in time?  Can I stay conscious long enough, once the convulsions start, to free myself?  And what am I going to do if I do escape? I’ll still have the twins to deal with. Finally, will it work at all?  One thing at a time. Escape first, Claire, then worry about the rest!” she told herself.

 The assassinettes let her descend minutely. Each small, almost immeasurable, distance was agonising in the pressure it delivered to her wound body. Claire’s pain receptors were beginning to overload – just what she needed to have happen!

 The girls’ unforgiving clasp attacked every few minutes, remorseless and determined in its desire to make her beg for death.  The pain was excruciating and unrelenting as she slipped deeper down. Still she mastered and held it at bay, not allowing any sound to pass her lips and escape in cries of pain.  She needed to feed her pain back upon itself, let it build and then force it to the surface in one giant rush that might just spasm her body free!

 She waited and endured, her body pleading with her to end the torture. The twins’ let her boiling body slip a little more as they drew her nearer to death by tensing the Knot about her as she fell.

 The upheaval within her built and built. She held it in check for as long as possible, until finally it surfaced in one massive explosion!

 Claire struggled to retain control of her faculties as the seizure attacked her. Her own body now tried to push her into unconsciousness.  Her frame shook violently everywhere within the Knot, which reacted initially by tightening her up against the edge of death!

            Then, however, the convulsions – slowly to her, but rapidly in reality – attacked the Knot!  The assassinettes tried frantically to hold the Knot around their prey, but their opponent advanced on too many fronts. They were soon overrun and Claire twisted her body free as the Thai Death Knot fell apart!

 Claire rolled away as best she could, a plan already formulated in her mind as one of the girls recovered and advanced on her retreating body. The spy grabbed her long discarded towel, still damp from use so long ago, twisting it rapidly as she retreated. She came to rest up against a wall just at the moment her assailant came within striking distance.

            Claire snapped the towel at the first twin. The towel caught the girl’s ankles and held long enough for her to pull her quarry off balance. She cocked the weapon and fired again, stinging the teen’s eyes with a blow heralded by a crack that filled the dead early morning air.  The assassinette rolled away in pain, covering her eyes and kicking her feet.

 Her unscathed sister came to the aid of her fallen sibling. Claire was trying to get to her feet, but her body, weakened by the eternity she’d spent in the Thai Death Knot, could not manage to pull itself up past her present sitting position.

 Twin number two turned toward the spy, rage flaring in her young eyes. The towel made several errant attempts as the girl easily avoiding its fangs with quick, darting dance steps.  Claire knew this stalemate would not continue. Once the other twin recovered, they’d attack again and finish her. She needed to lure her adversary closer.

            The cobra strikes from the towel became less accurate and weaker, until finally a lazy one landed on the floor. The girl took the bait and stepped on it with one foot, pinning the towel to the ground.

 She quickly advanced, thinking to catch her prey off guard with a knee thrust to the head, but Claire was more than ready with a rapid, sharp punch to her pelvic mound that stopped the teenager cold and doubled her over at the waist. Claire fanned the girl’s legs apart, splitting them wide, and forcing her to Claire’s eye level. A series of blows to the head and a roundhouse elbow greeted her. The final blow careened the young assassinette several feet away from the fallen spy giving Claire a brief interlude.

 The spy rubbed her legs vigorously in a frantic effort to return blood flow to them. She had to get walking again before they recovered and finished her! Unsteadily, Claire rose to her feet.

 The first twin’s eyes were clearing slowly as Claire wobbled over to her, still somewhat uncertain in motion. A few choice kicks retarded the girl’s recovery, allowing the agent to judo toss her across the room to join her sister. The two collided like rag dolls, coming to rest in a heap.

Claire towered over the duo. She glared down at them, menace burning in her eyes as she spoke. “I’ll be back in ten minutes.  I trust you’ll be gone by then!  Take advantage of my generosity. I’m only offering it once, because of your young age, but, be warned, I don’t give second chances to anyone!”

            Claire picked up her discarded weapon on her way to the bathroom and locked the door. The shower came on seconds later.
*****

 She emerged, true to her word, ten minutes later. Claire’s body sparkled, the droplets catching the morning sun. As she entered the large room, she carefully surveyed her surroundings.

            “They’re gone. Good. I hope they learned their lesson.”

Despite the heat, Claire shivered at the memory of them clinging to her body.

 Something cascaded off her forehead and into her eyes. She casually dabbed her face with her towel.

 In that instant, a pair of knees dropped from the ceiling and slammed into her stomach, doubling her over! The twins had not left!

 Their trap sprung, the girls each grabbed an arm, pulled them straight out from Claire’s sides and twisted counter clockwise, flipping her over and forward, landing the agent in a sitting position. A quick hand-off of one arm from one girl to another allowed them to launch a two-prong attack. Claire’s twisted arms were pulled straight out behind her and crossed, then bent and pushed up against her back.

 That girl then inserted the flat of her right foot into the crossed arms and pushed, drawing the arms tight. Her sister bent the spy’s legs up at the knees and crossed Claire’s ankles over each other. The twin then inserted a foot into the crossed legs and, leaning forward, completed the first phase of a new knot!

 Next, each free leg of the sisters slid into place with practised skill. The twin with Claire’s arms entangled by her right foot snaked her left foot slowly and seductively down the spy’s chest, pushing the agent’s breasts apart as she serpentined through the divide and plunged downward.  Purposefully, it found her partner’s locked foot holding Claire’s legs and crawled into place, her heel coming to rest against the back of her sister’s.

The sister raised and stepped her other leg over the spy’s shoulder, pushing down Claire’s back until her knee slithered between the agent’s legs and pulled tight against Claire’s pubic mound, her descending leg reinforcing her sister’s arm bar on the way down.

 The twin with the captured arms completed her part of the hold. Bending forward and entwining her arms into the spy’s legs, she pulled them upward until her hands knitted together over the top of Claire’s feet, creating a seal around them.

 The sister who had first attacked Claire’s legs looped one of her arms around Claire’s neck, while her other arm snaked down and clasped her free foot by the ankle.  The girls then once again melted themselves to their victim’s body as they tightened the knot. All this had happened in mere seconds, from the initial knee blows to Claire’s complete envelopment!

            “Pretty lady . . . “

 ”. . . our prisoner again!”

            “Foolish to give . . .”
            “. . . us second chance!”

“Pretty lady, we not . . .”
 
 “. . . give you second chance!”

 The girls worked her taut in minutes. Claire’s mound found it impossible to resist the pressure of the back of one of the sister’s knees upon it. The stimulation caused Claire to twitch and tighten the knot.  They were fused about her again, her body once again their plaything!

The twins tensed and pulsed about her, drawing her deeper into their vortex as she struggled in the knot. Her movements forced them tighter against her until any freedom in their tweeze was gone. They held her still in the constricting embrace.

 Unlike the Thai Death Knot, Claire could tell that this knot was designed to finish her quickly by crushing her to death. She could already feel its fatal attraction working on her. The sisters continued the choreography of death for several minutes until the enveloped agent undid the knot and stepped out!

 “I gave you a second chance. You should have taken it. Instead, you took the bait – me!  Only this time I bit back!  Did you really think I would walk into your welcoming bodies once again without taking counter measures?  My body isn’t glistening from a shower. That was merely a trick. I’m glowing from an application of baby oil, which you can probably guess, is quite paralysing to the touch, if you haven’t taken the antidote. Both of you absorbed my poisonous application, and me, wonderfully!

 “I’m sorry we have to end our close, but brief relationship, but it was just too intense for me and I need my space!  Oh, don’t worry. The poison isn’t fatal. The effects will wear off in several hours. By that time, you should be safely within COIL’s grip!  I could have killed you, but you’re young and your skills need to be studied and taught to others. Both of you are much too valuable an asset,” Claire paused and cooed.

 “Not to mention being pretty ladies . . . to just throw away!”

 Claire made a phone call and the girls were removed in less than an hour. Then she had a real shower and slept. The data analysis could wait.

*****

 “Good morning, ma’am. Please state your business.”

 “Claire Baxter to see Commander Reinhardt.  I have an appointment,” she said, showing her ID card to the sentry.

 “Yes, ma’am. The Commander’s expecting you.  Straight down the road.  Section Alpha’s HQ’s the first building on the right.  Operations Room 6 is where you’ll find him,” the guard rattled off in a flat midwestern voice with a slightly elevated tone.

 Claire took back her ID and drove straight ahead as directed, coming to the nondescript white brick building several minutes later.  She showed her ID card several more times until she finally found her way down the hall to OPS Room 6.  She opened the door and smiled, “Hello, Gerry!” she said, giving him a sisterly hug.

            “Hi, Claire!  How’s my favourite SEAL Team trainee of all time!” he said warmly.
 
            “Ready to kick butt and take names, sir!” she said, snapping to attention and saluting. She held the pose as long as she could, before she started to laugh at the same time he did.
            “Glad to see you haven’t changed. Still a smart-ass, all the way!” he said.

 Claire came back to reality and business quickly, “I need your assistance.”

 “That I already gathered.  Your high-level friends move quickly when you call them. They had me on the line before you were even finished with them,” Gerry said with a sarcastically friendly tone in his voice.  “So, what can I help you with?”

 “With this,” Claire said, holding up the disk of data she’d appropriated from PKC Industries. “I need one of your Comm Specialists to confirm my analysis,” she answered as her laptop loaded the disk.

            Commander Reinhardt picked up a phone and dialled. “Lieutenant Thomas, I need you in OPS 6. Bring your laptop along,” he snapped into the phone.

Within seconds, the door opened and a young, African-American woman entered the room, came to attention and saluted, “You wished to see me, sir!”
 
            “Lt. Whitney Thomas, Claire Baxter,” Reinhardt said by way of introduction.

 Lieutenant Thomas was slightly taller than Claire was. Her dark brown hair was closely cropped, befitting her military status. Her dazzling white teeth and naturally red lips were in stark contrast to her unblemished black skin. High cheekbones were set below and to the side of intense, brown eyes. Claire surmised she was in fabulous shape, although through her uniform, it was impossible to discern any details.

            In return, Thomas sized up the pretty, fashionably dressed civilian in front of her for a brief moment. It would have been easy to dismiss the white woman as a “soft, fun-loving, never done a real day’s work in her life, skirt,” but Lt. Thomas could tell the difference a mile away. She recognised a fellow warrior and greeted Claire warmly. ‘Besides, when you’re not told what branch of the government or company they work for, you can pretty much guess what they really are!’ she thought.

 Claire explained what she needed and Whitney went right to work, inputting data from Claire’s laptop into a special program on her own.  Once she had entered all the pertinent figures, she made allowances within the program so that it could calculate all possibilities and contingencies, giving them the best possible solution as well as a series of alternatives, should there be any.

 “You had it right all along, I’m sorry to say,” Whitney said.

 “That’s what I was afraid of. I had hoped I missed something,” Claire said, somewhat dejectedly.

            “Your window of entry is very small, about the size of a basketball court. Miss it and you’re going to alert them,” Thomas sighed, knowing how tough it would be.  “How many have you made?”
            “This will be my ninth,” the spy informed her.

 “That’s good. You’ll have all that experience to draw on. That should make things easier, but, still, that’s not even the half of it, really, is it?”

 “No, but it’s a start!” Claire gamely said.

 Major Reinhardt’s head went back and forth like he was watching a tennis match as he listened to the conversation from across the table, unable to get in a word edgewise between the two women. Finally, he felt he had to re-establish the command structure. “Hey!  Over here!” he said light-heartedly. “What are you two talking about doing?”

 “H.A.H.O. jump,” they both answered at once.

            Claire motioned him over to look at the laptop screen and filled in the blanks. “The whole island is webbed in a low altitude radar grid, but it’s weakest at this point,” Claire said, calling up the 3D schematic of her objective. “It’s just weak enough at this small section to permit undetected entry by someone wearing a Kevlar radar-bending jump-suit and parachute to pass through the web without being detected.  The jump has to be a H.A.H.O. (High Altitude High Opening) and just before dawn, when it’s light enough for me to see where I’m going, but still dark enough so that the guards on the island cannot see the parachute. This type of jump gives the best clandestine advantage and element of surprise, while, at the same time, putting me on the island during daylight.”

 “Are you sure about the detection part, Lieutenant Thomas?

            “Yes, sir. The waves will simply bend around her. Anybody monitoring the signal won’t see a ting.  They’d have to tighten the bandwidth considerably to detect her and in that specific area alone to see Ms. Baxter’s signal, and even then they couldn’t be completely sure.”

 “That leads me to my second question.  How can we ensure she hits the entry window she needs from a 30,000 foot jump?”

            “Radar waves oscillate on a constant cycle and pattern. Here, let me show you on my screen,” Lt. Thomas said as she activated the 3D simulation, highlighting and enlarging the specific target area Claire needed. They watched the simulated radar waves roll over the area as Whitney Thomas opened a small widow in the corner of the program to feed in some additional data.  The result caused four “X’s” to appear on the screen, representing the corners of the safe jump zone within which Claire had to work. “Although the radar wave appears to be solid to us, it is in fact made of particles that all move individually, but at a constant rate of motion and direction.  Thus, if we can predict the location of any particle along any specific point of this wave, we can predict any of its future locations and exact times it will be at that location.”

 “Quantum mechanics,” Claire said.

 “Exactly!  I can calculate using your data and Quantum Theory the points “X” on the screen.  We can then use these points, because they are constant, as the fixed ground point for the G.P.S. (Global Positioning Satellite).  Ms. Baxter will be the third fixed point as she falls,” Lt. Thomas said enthusiastically.

            “How can I be a fixed point if I’m constantly in motion?” Claire asked.
            “The G.P.S. is relaying your position in nanoseconds, so fast that, to its programming, you are a fixed point, because the distance between each measurement it has of you is so infinitesimal. Even at a high free-fall speed, it appears to the computer that you’re actually standing still.  When your elevation does change enough for the G.P.S. to register it, the computer simply makes a new calculation based on that fixed point and starts the process all over again! The marginal of error from the start of the jump to the window is less than 2 inches, leaving you more than enough room to get through.  All this will be displayed inside your helmet on a heads-up display, just like on the ones for an Apache helicopter. Only these are in colour and the map is 3D. All you have to do is adjust the dive descent and manipulate the directional cords on the chute to make it safely and, more importantly, stealthily to the ground.  The wind speed, temperature and speed of the plane will all be added to the calculation prior to the jump point to ensure even greater accuracy.  We will even make changes on your descent and the heads-up will instruct you as to the corrections you need to make,” Lt. Thomas concluded and then turned to her superior.

“Will that be all, sir?”

 “No, Lieutenant. I want you to head up the mission from this point forward!  Take any and all action you feel is appropriate to make this a success.  If anyone questions you, tell them you’re acting under my direct authority. Is that clear?!” Commander Reinhardt barked.

            “Aye aye, sir!” Whitney Thomas answered, beaming with pride at her first opportunity for a field command.
            Claire said her goodbyes, for now she hoped, to Reinhardt and left with Lt. Thomas, who escorted her out a side door to a Hummer.

 “Hop in and we’ll get started,” she said.  “I have an extra bunk at my place. My roommate’s on furlough, if you’d like to stay with me, Ms. Baxter?”

 “Sounds great, but only if we can be on a first-name basis,” Claire answered with a smile.

They arrived at a small, neat, whitewashed wood house about ten minutes later.  Claire deposited her laptop case and her one carry bag on the spare bed before she sat down on the edge, while Whitney got them each a cold bottled water and sat down on the edge of her bed opposite the spy.

 “How long into your term with the SEAL’s are you?” Claire asked

 “Third year, two more to go, then mostly likely back to intelligence.  That’s going to be a hard adjustment after this, but I knew it wasn’t forever and besides, I’ll always have being one of only a handful of women to ever work with a SEAL team. Speaking of which, the way the Commander treated you, I’d guess he knows you well, but I’ve not seen your name on the official list of women graduates.”

“You know women can’t be Seal’s,” Claire said wryly.
 
 Whitney smiled a knowing look towards her. “So?”

            “I’m what you’d call an unofficial, official graduate,” Claire smiled back.  “Assumed name and identity, but I’m there and proud of it!”

 Whitney was satisfied with the answer. “Well, when you’re ready, we need to get over to Tactical to suit you up and get your gear,” Whitney said. They both stood up on cue and moved to the door.

 “Now it’s my turn to ask you a question, Lieutenant Thomas. Why did you chose the Navy as a career?”

            “What happened to our first-name basis?”
            Claire smiled at her gaffe. “Excuse me . . . Whitney.”
            “My uncle had a twenty foot sailboat on Lake Michigan.  I used to love to go sailing with him, but he’d only let me crew if all my homework was done before Sunday, especially my math. Because I had a gift for it, I was lazy about doing it because it came so easy for me. I never needed to study, but he made me and gave me extra questions on board to answer. The reward was I could pilot the boat. He’d been in the Navy and always told me it was a terrific way to see the world, give something back to your country and get a first-class education, all at the same time. Most importantly, he told me the Navy was the first branch of the armed services to fully integrate.  I applied to the Academy and the rest, as they say, is history.” Whitney laughed. “Funny how it turned out. I love the water and now the closest I get to it is a shower.  Naval Intelligence is great, but you can’t sail on it!”

 SEAL Tactical was located inside a large hanger a short drive away.  Whitney escorted Claire through a labyrinth of hallways, finally stopping in front of a security door.  Claire turned her gaze away before being asked from the keypad security system as Lt. Thomas entered her code. The door swung open.

 The interior looked just like a gym locker room. Long benches were anchored to the floor in front of lockers, while a small hallway in one corner led to a series of shower stalls. Whitney made her way to one of the lockers and, shielding her right hand from Claire, keyed in another code to open the door. “This one should fit perfectly. Claire, take off your clothes and put this on,” she said, offering it without a backward glance.

 Claire stripped and began to slide her body into the black jump suit, starting with her legs.  The ultra-thin fabric, a combination of neoprene and Kevlar, sealed around her like a second skin, shaping to the curves and contours of her legs as she pulled the material higher. She pushed her arms in next and brought it up over her shoulders, the textile knitting itself to her body, her breasts delineated as two separate round dunes on her chest. Claire reached behind and slid the zipper up, sculpting the jump suit to her body.

            “How’s it feel for freedom of movement?” Whitney asked.
            Claire reached down and took the back of her right heel in her right hand and slowly pulled it straight up over her head and a little in front. Letting go, she next splayed herself out on the floor, slowly splitting her legs as she fell. Whitney raised an eyebrow at her display of flexibility, but said nothing. Finally, the spy worked the material in a simulated fight, utilising back, front and side flips.

 “It feels great, like I’m not even wearing it,” she offered as an approval.

 “The suit will keep you warm during the fall, yet help to keep your body cool while you’re on land. The Kevlar in the suit will also stop small calibre rounds and some forms of shrapnel.  Here, put on the helmet and connect the strap. That activates the heads-up 3D display. Tomorrow in the pre-jump, it will be programmed with all data specific of your target. I’ll take care of that myself this afternoon. The main part of the screen will contain the map for the window.  Down the right hand side will be your air speed, rate of descent and altitude.  Any corrections you need to make during the jump will be displayed across the bottom part of the screen in red letters.  The data down the left-hand side will show you making those corrections. They start red and go green once you’ve met them.  It is also equipped with night vision so you can see the target in the dark.  We pre-set the chute for automatic opening at a fixed altitude, 27,000 feet in this case. The parachute will, of course, be black, too.  Any questions so far?” Whitney asked, already knowing the answer.

 “No,” Claire said, confirming her hypothesis. 

She removed the helmet and carried it with her as they exited a set of doors at the end of the locker room and came into a weapons room.  Guns, knives, grenades and assorted other paraphernalia lined the walls behind locked cases. It could have been overwhelming, but Claire knew exactly what she wanted without even looking.  She turned to Lt. Thomas and began.

“Rothman folding stock over/under semi automatic with pop up day/night scope and laser targeting.  I’ll need five fifty round magazines for it, five concussion grenades for the top and five fragmentation grenades for the bottom.  Two Beretta 6mm nine shot handguns, small stock with four extra clips.  Two 8-inch double sided Bowie knives and one wrist compass/watch should do the trick,” Claire said with a grin.
 
            Whitney retrieved the requested equipment, impressed with the choices.  The two knives fitted into slots in the jump on the outside of Claire’s legs, just below the knees.  The Beretta's tucked neatly into moulded arm holsters in the suit, just below each shoulder. The spare ammunition likewise found homes in various pockets within the suit. Claire did tape the fifty round magazines back to back so she could simply flip them over in a firefight, thus saving time.  The Rothman assault rifle with the stock folded was slung over her back, completing the deadly ensemble.

            “Coupled with a few extras I have, this should do it.  Thanks,” Claire said.

 “You can thank me once the mission is completed,” Whitney stated.  “For now, let’s get this gear over to the plane and stow it for tomorrow’s mission.  Once that’s done, we can relax and rest up for tomorrow.”

            “I need to take care of a few things before I can do that, but it shouldn’t take me more than a couple of hours.  Can you drive me back to HQ and I’ll meet you back at your place a little later?” Claire asked.
            “Tell you what, you take the Hummer now. I’ll finish here, call the motor pool for a mini-transport, and load the plane and then walk back to my place. It’s close by and I’ll see you when you get there.  How’s that?”  Lt. Thomas said, tossing Claire the keys.

 “See you in a little while,” Claire answered, snatching the keys out of mid-air and then turning for the Hummer.
 

 About an hour later, Whitney closed the front door to her house behind her. She made her way to the bathroom, stripping off her uniform, as she went, never breaking stride along the way. The soldier then tossed her clothes into a hamper in one crumpled, sweaty ball.  What the uniform had successfully concealed was a toned, well-tuned body – slim and graceful, in peak physical condition.  Her choice of lingerie, though, was anything but regulation!

 A thong and a small bra, which had given her perky breasts an even firmer platform, slid off and fell discarded to the floor. Just then, the door banged on its hinges. It was much too earlier for Claire, so Whitney guessed it had to be the civilian laundry service with which the base contracted.

 “Hold on, Suhma. I have a few more things for you, if you can wait just a second,” Whitney called. She reached around the corner to toss her bra and thong into the hamper.

 Suddenly, a hand grabbed her arm and pulled it tight behind her back, while another caught her around her neck!

            “Where’s the other one?” an as-yet unseen woman’s voiced demanded.

Whitney reacted swiftly, driving her elbow into her questioner’s rib cage!  Freeing herself, she pivoted and attempting a flat-handed punch to the woman’s face.

Whitney’s opponent, though, expertly parried the blow, stepped neatly inside the naked woman’s lunging body and smashed an elbow into the small of Whitney’s back. In the same motion, the assailant then leaned forward and followed through, bringing her left leg over the top of her stretched-out body, connecting it squarely to Lt. Thomas’s forehead. The Intelligence Officer was sent to the floor flat on her back from the force of the kick.
 
            “I’ll guess we’ll have to do this the hard way!” the woman said, who Lt. Thomas could now finally see was not Suhma, who was in her forties. This woman was more her age, mid-twenties, with a fit body and long, silky black hair tied up in a bun for ease of movement in combat.

            The Lieutenant tried to recover, but her attacker gave her no time and was on her in an instant. A hard kick to the groin weakened Whitney still further.
            “I’ll ask again! Where’s the other one and what have you been planning?” the woman demanded forcefully.

 Whitney, twisting in agony on her side, yelled defiantly. “Go to hell, bitch!”

 The woman smashed several more kicks heavily into her prostrate opponent. Then she began to position her quarry for more intensive questioning!

 Lt. Thomas’s legs were folded together as she was placed in a sitting position, her knees resting on the floor.  Her inquisitor pulled her arms straight out behind her back.

 Next the woman slipped her own legs between Whitney’s arms. Then she put the flats of her feet on the back of Whitney’s head!

 “One more time, before we start!” the woman said in a menacing voice. “Where’s the other one and what is she up to?”

 “Like I said before!  Go to hell!” Whitney yelled.

            Slowly pressure built up on the back of Whitney’s neck as the woman pushed forward with her feet. At the same time, the torturer pulled her captured victim’s arms back.

Whitney endured several minutes of increasing pain as her head was forced down and her neck severely stretched!  She strained and resisted as much as possible, but the woman’s lethal feet pushed her deeper into realms of pain that filled her body.

 “Talk!” came the demand as the as the woman applied precise, incremental movements to induce her helpless prey to talk, but still Whitney refused! “Again, where is the other one?!  You must be in great pain. Tell me what I want to know and I’ll release you.”

            Whitney, racked with pain, refused to yield. She made no reply to her attacker’s demands.  Slowly, the woman started to twist Whitney’s wrists, adding a new dimension of pain to the procedure.
            The pressure on Whitney’s neck increased. Her body slowly began to convulse as she gradually lost control of her motor skills. Her chin was being driven into her chest. She was near the breaking point. If her head was pushed much further down, her neck would snap!
            “If you don’t talk, I’ll be forced to kill you . . . in an even more painful way than this!” hissed the female assassin.
            “Then stop talking and get on with it!” Whitney mumbled, hoping to at least relieve the pressure on her neck and perhaps get a second chance to counterattack.
            “Have it your way.  I’m going to enjoy this!”

The assassin parted her legs and slipped then around the Lieutenant’s neck until she cinched them in place around Whitney’s neck at her mid-thighs! She rolled forward onto her feet, with the Lieutenant’s head still cemented in her constricting thighs. Her hands reached back behind her and placed Whitney’s resisting legs up off the ground, her arm’s locked under the back of the Lieutenant’s knees.  Slowly and carefully she worked her battling prey’s legs up until she fitted them neatly in place, one under each armpit!

            Whitney’s hands fell to hers seconds later. A quick wristlock calmed the sailor’s flailing attempts to free them.

The Intelligence Officer spasmed her ensnared form in a desperate bid to escape the woman’s death lock, her naked body toiling in strenuous convulsions that only served to exhaust her. The woman was happy to let her flail, delighting in the lethal administrations.

 Soon, though, the assassin tired of the game. She slowly made the struggling woman stiff in her the hold as she bent forward just a few inches.

            “Last chance to talk,” the assassin purred.
            “Never!”

 “Noble to the end . . . and a painful end it will be for you, my captured lovely.  When I bend forward just a little more, your back will be broken. I hope that doesn’t kill you right away, because that’s just the start!  If you survive, I’ll slowly, ever so slowly, twist that pretty neck of yours around in my thighs. You’ll be utterly helpless and I’ll play with you as long as I want. Then, finally, I’ll break your neck!

 “I could give you a fast death or make it oh, so terribly, terribly slow. Tell me what I want to know and I’ll make it fast and . . . almost . . . painless!” the woman’s voice slithered.

            “Fuck you!” Whitney yelled.

The woman started forward.
 

 Claire happily drove the Hummer around the last corner to her temporary roommate’s quarters, all of her business satisfactorily concluded. She was looking forward to some food and a good night’s sleep before her mission tomorrow, when a caravan of vehicles came into sight.

 She slammed on the brakes, locking them up as the tires screamed in protest.  Before her were several other Hummers’ and an ambulance without its light flashing.  Claire vaulted from the Hummer into the crowd that had gathered outside the cordoned-off area, bouncing off people as she pushed her way through to the front.  She had just started to step over the tape when two MPs stepped in her way; one with his M-16 pointed at her.

 “What happened? Where’s Lieutenant Thomas? Is Commander Reinhardt here?!” she demanded. Getting no response, she began to yell the commander’s last name repeatedly.

 “Let her pass,” came a distant voice from the front door of Lieutenant Thomas’s barracks.

 Claire burst through the line, breaking the tape before the Military Police had a chance to lower it in response to the commander’s order. Reinhardt quickly stepped out of the way to avoid the onrushing woman. He knew Claire well enough too not to try and stop her when she had the look in her eye she currently displayed.

 Destruction greeted the COIL agent as she entered the barrack. Furniture smashed to pieces lay everywhere. Books littered the floor and mixed with clothing strewn about the place.  Broken bits of pottery and other objects completed the mosaic of ruin that fell upon her eyes.

            The trail continued into the bedroom. Claire turned in the bedroom doorway just in time to see a sheet coming to rest over what was obviously a body.
            Trance-like she moved toward it. Slowly Claire bent down, her hand trembling as she reached for a corner to pull back.
            “She put up a real fight, but in the end she wouldn’t tell me anything!”
            Claire’s heart sank back into her chest as she whirled around to face the voice.
            “What’s the matter, Claire?  Don’t tell me you thought I was under that sheet,” Whitney said, a smile emerging on her face.

 Claire lunged forward, flinging her arms around Whitney’s neck and squeezing tight.

 “Your friends play rough, Claire, but not rough enough!”
 
            “What happened?” Claire questioned in an astonished tone.

 “I’ll tell you, once they all leave,” Whitney whispered. “You’ll get the real version, after I give then the official one they want.”

 Claire waited patiently as the investigators questioned and re-questioned Whitney about the incident. The Intelligence Officer told them it was a simple break and enter and that she’d surprised the intruder. They’d fought and Whitney had acted in self-defence, feeling her life was in the balance.

 After an interminable time they seemed satisfied and departed, as did the crowd outside, leaving the two women alone.  Claire and Whitney settled each into their familiar places, on the edge of their beds facing each other across the narrow space.  Whitney began by relating all that had happened up till the point of the woman trapping her in the hold that was supposed to end her life.

 “She bent me forward in the hold.  What did you call it again?” she asked Claire.

            “It’s called the Spitting Cobra,” the spy answered enraptured, at her friend’s vivid account.
            “Sorry, she bent me forward in the Spitting Cobra, attempting to break my back, which she almost succeeded in doing! However, she didn’t count on me being flexible enough to resist its bite!  As a little girl, my parents had enrolled me in gymnastics. I hated it at first. The gym was cold and it hurt when you fell off a piece of apparatus, but I went because my parents told me they’d paid up front and couldn’t get the money back even if I quit.”

 “I hated everything about it, except two things: the tumbling and stretching. For some crazy reason, I loved to see just how far I could bend my body and into what weird positions I could twist myself.  After I was finally able to leave gymnastics, I kept doing the contortions and stretching as a way to stay supple. As I grew older, I used it for meditation during my time at the Academy.  I didn’t think it would ever save my life!”

 “She tried once, then twice, taking me near to my breaking point both times, but she just couldn’t push it over the edge and finish me. If she’d known how close I was, she’d have tried a third time.  But, she became frustrated and decided to switch tactics. Slowly she squeezed my neck with her thighs, thinking to kill me that way – her mistake!”

            “With all her concentration focused on one location, I thrust my legs forward, ignoring the pain. My legs came free and fell to the floor! She still had my neck locked in her crushing wrap, so I needed to work fast. I got my legs into position and pushed up, taking her off her feet, but her legs were still coiled around my neck. She must have sensed my intention to fall backward and smash her back into the floor, because she released my neck, flipped backwards and landed on her feet, ready to renew the battle.”
 

 “We beat the hell out of each other, and the place, as you could tell, each of us looking for a weakness in the other’s style that we could exploit to our advantage and end the contest.  Finally, we took the battle into the bedroom. I began to notice that she liked to lead with her left leg most of the time and all the kicks were high, aimed at my head. That gave me the advantage I needed!”

“I let her have just the distance she needed to snap at me, which she obligingly did.  At those precise moments, I’d lunge into her, catching the kick on my shoulder or in my hand. In return, sometimes I’d strike her muscles. Other times, I’d back away, catch the over-extended leg and pull it forward, stretching her out on the floor before delivering my counter-punch. It only took several multiple strikes to her leg before she lost all feeling in it. Then I went to work on her other leg!”

            “She fell to the floor, helpless, minutes later, her legs useless. Then it was my turn to conduct a question and answer session! Despite my best efforts, she wouldn’t talk, but we now know whoever was after you knows nothing about what you know or have planned, otherwise she wouldn’t have been sent!”

 “How did you kill her?” Claire asked, fascinated with it all.

            “Her neck found a home in my thighs! Despite my contractions about her, she refused to speak. A quick flip of my hips silenced her forever!” Whitney said concluding the tale.  The Intelligence Officer thought for a few more seconds. Claire could see she was searching for the correct words, thinking she already knew what Whitney was going to say.

 “Despite the fact I almost died, I must admit it was a very arousing experience. It was almost erotic in nature, given how we fought and used our bodies against each other and our chosen methods of killing!  Is that how it is for you, Claire, or am I just completely screwed up?” Whitney said with a laugh, trying to make light of the comment.

 Claire looked her straight in the eye and answered, “All the time and I wouldn’t have it any other way!”

            Whitney smiled her face relaxing. “You know, I think my calculations were a little off regarding the jump tomorrow.”

 “How so?” Claire asked, alarmed.

 “I think there’s room for two people to make it through!  This just got personal!” Whitney stated.

 “I think you may be right!  Welcome aboard, sailor,” Claire said with confidence.
 

 “Fifteen minutes to drop zone,” a voice over the intercom said as the two women made a final check of their weapons before proceeding into the decompression chamber to wait for the green light, telling them it was time to make their jump.  They strapped on and locked in place their respective parachutes, before donning the special helmets. The pair connected and tested the air supplies and finally the two-way communication system.  They each switched on the “heads up” telemetry, causing the screen inside their helmet to come alive with data. It was Claire’s job to guide them down to the drop zone. It was Whitney’s task to match Claire’s course changes staying literally right on top of the spy’s chute.

 “OK, hit the decompression button,” Claire’s voice echoed inside her partner’s helmet.  Whitney made sure Claire and she where strapped in before she pushed the button on the wall.  At 30,000 feet the suction, until the pressure equalised, would be more than enough to smash them against the nearest wall without the use of the restraining straps.  As it was both of them where lifted off the ground as the air flew free of the jump cylinder at the back of the disguised civilian aircraft as the door to the dark and cold morning opened before them in slow motion.

 “30 seconds to target, 20, 10, 5,” said the voice inside both their helmets then came the green light as Claire and Whitney walked off the ramp and into the dark morning sky and complete silence as the plane quickly disappeared from sight.  Claire watched her display at 27,000 feet their respective chutes would automatically open and they’d begin the nearly 12 minute controlled drop to the target.

 “Parachute deployment in 10,9,8,7,6,5,4,3,2,1, now,” Claire said into the darkness as the chute opened as per the pre set programming and seconds later she felt the drag of the fully engaged silk take effect and slow her descent rate.  “Whitney how’s your location?”

 “Right on top of you, maybe 2 feet from the top of your chute!  Not bad for a team’s first jump together.  The rest is up to you Claire make the adjustments and I’ll follow.”

            Claire made minute adjustments as the two fell to earth; several turns to account for wind speed variances kept them centre of the drop zone as the fell.  Whitney stayed right on top of Claire’s chute the two in perfect symmetry throughout the dark early morning.  The spy gave a gentle right tug of the guide string to the wing of the parachute to adjust back their course and bring them true again until finally she could, through the night vision goggles make out the island below.

 “Target visual acquired,” Claire said into the helmet and smiled as all of her SEAL training including the language came back to her.

 The first spear of light thrust itself over the horizon and knifed across the ocean dissipating the darkness with a series of purple and orange fractures that spread out along the sea green stillness of the ocean.  Hugging the waters as if for protection from the darkness above as the two shapely and unseen silhouettes slipped beneath the radar networks web, past the tress and with a last second adjustment between two giant teak tree’s and into a small clearing, Claire landing first, rolling away quickly just as Whitney hit the ground and rolled away opposite to her.  The parachutes were rapidly gathered up by the two and camouflaged with some undergrowth, before each removed their respective helmets, Claire passing hers to Whitney but retaining the headset communication system as did her partner.  The naval officer turned them upside down, peeled back part of the foam protection revealing a hidden keypad, she entered a 6-digit code in each one and moved back several feet to join her partner.  The two watched as the self-destruct procedure collapsed the two high tech pieces in on themselves each melting in to a small clump of twisted black plastic and silicon in a matter of seconds.

 “$10,000 a piece gone, just like that,” Whitney said with a slight laugh.  “And people complain about the $1000 hammer stories.  If they could only see this!  But we can’t take the chance of them falling into the enemy’s hands.  Speaking of which,” she said glancing at her watch and then switching it to compass format.  “We’d better be on our way, we have enough daylight now and 4 miles of unknown jungle terrain to cover!”

 Claire nodded in silent agreement as the two moved, Whitney taking the initial lead as she led her partner into the jungle.  Thick undergrowth and the lack of a discernible path hampered a quick trip; this was definitely no Garden of Eden.  The two formed a line about 10 feet apart Claire as best she could stepping in the same places as her partner just had, just in case any traps lay in wait for them.  The two swept their weapons in opposite directions for maximum coverage in the dense jungle as useless as it was it gave them at least a small sense of control over what was happening.   After half an hour Claire took the lead, her body slithering through the undergrowth silently just as her partner’s had.

 As the sun came up the jungle started to steam, releasing its gases into the warming air and blanketing the ground with patches of fog vanishing the two operatives from each others site for several minutes at a time, their only contact via the radio headsets they wore.  It also brought the forest canopy and the floor to life, birds carped and cawed overhead while insects and reptiles skittered underfoot in search of their morning meal.  Massive dew covered rubber plant leaves coated the two women in a mixture of semi sticky water that clung to their suits as much as they tried and failed not to brush against them.

 Whitney stopped in a small clearing crouching down scanning the perimeter and waiting for Claire to join her. 

 “Five minute break for rest and some water,” she ordered, although it sounded more like a plea at any rate Claire was glad to comply. 

 The removed their small packs and leaned their guns up against a nearby tree within easy reach if need be.  The sun was now high and strong enough that the jungle fog had been burnt off allowing ray’s of light to penetrate the forest floor offering the two woman dappled sunlight in which to rest.  The COIL agent ate an energy bar and drank from her canteen absentmindedly; at least it seemed so to Whitney.  Sure she’d done the HAHO jump many times before as well as simulated missions, but this was the real thing and she was pumped, although she kept it hidden from her partner who didn’t seem excited at all, as if this happened everyday. 

“Probably does,” she thought enviously. 

 She glanced a passing look at her, that Claire caught, her eyes widening as they locked that of her partners, Whitney hoped she wouldn’t see what she was really thinking, but she did and Whitney knew she’d been found out!

 “Get out of your suit as quickly as you can,” Claire said as calmly as she could so as to not startle her.
            Whitney looked surprised but in her mind not disappointed at the request as Claire began frantically tugging at the zipper on her own suit. Whitney had expected a little smoother approach from the spy.  “Calm down Claire and take your time,” she said seductively.

 Claire looked up into her eyes before retorting in surprise.  “What the hell are you talking about?!”  Before going back to pulling at the zipper which seemed to be stuck.  “Pull your zipper down if you can and hurry!” She demanded of her partner no trace of softness in her voice that Whitney had expected and then it all became clear to her.  Each of their skin tight satiny smooth body suits were growing green fissures that were spreading out and connecting to each other as they went, blanketing the two in a patchwork mosaic.  Frenetic yanks and tugs could not persuade the teeth of either zipper to disengage.  “Pull your hood off fast Whitney and stand up if your still able,” Claire said nervously as she strained to her feet the Naval Officer following her scant seconds later, she also encountering the same difficulty.

“What’s going on Claire?”  Whitney asked her voiced conveying the same nervousness as that of her partner. 

              “Those rubber plants we’ve been bombarded with, they must be a genetically modified variety!  The dew from them is congealing around us and as it does its binding our bodies tighter and tighter, its already gummed up the zippers on the suits! The plants must use it as a defensive mechanism to trap and crush plant eating bugs and now we're the bugs!  No Whitney don’t come any closer…shit!” Claire screamed in warning and then resignation.  The glutinous sap promptly bound the two women together adhering them instantly to each other.  “Can you reach your knife?” Claire asked hopefully.
            No, you?” Whitney asked and countered.

“No,” came the COIL agents disappointing reply.  “We need to reposition ourselves fast if we want to escape I can already feel the strands drawing us together!” Claire added.

 The solidifying green bands encircled the two operatives like dozens of ever tightening green constrictors.  Marshalling their strength Claire and Whitney twisted and turned their bodies within the bands until they were back to back, their arms stretched full out above their heads.

“Now what?” Whitney asked.
 

 “Every rubber band has a breaking point, if you stretch it too far it will break right?”  Claire didn’t wait for an answer before she continued. 

 “We need to stretch this band to the breaking point by stretching our bodies to resist its constriction. It’s a good thing you’re flexible Whitney, because we’re going to need it if we hope to escape.  One more thing, we need to think like one body, we each need to concentrate on the others body as we move, feel and touch, use your intuition as a guide, ready!” 

Whitney acknowledged and Claire started the procedure as she pushed downward at the knees bowing their bodies apart as much as she could but keeping their ankles tight together.  Whitney could feel the strain building around the two, but most importantly she could feel her partner silently signal her to move.  As Claire resisted Whitney somehow symbiotically knew what to do, she fought against the growing tension and worked the tops of her feet around the tops of her partners.  Without any verbal communication the two entangled women moved on as they pulled their arms down and away until they each cupped the others chin in their laced fingers!  Hundreds of green elastic tendrils pulled the two together as they strained for their lives against their onslaught, several times their embrace almost came undone, but the one or the other always compensated until a recovery was made.  Slowly the bands, each about the same size of a normal elastic band, worked them tighter, enfolding them closer to total helplessness.  Each woman pulsated her lethal form against its all-enveloping attack, its sticky emerald coagulant sealing about her further with each futile tensing.

 Over time the plants attack weakened the two-trapped insect women, their desperate flexing no match for the plants genetically engineered death trap. Covered in the solidified bands from head to toe they were pulled upright after a fierce battle, exhausted and weakened, the women came together, their hands and feet still defiantly holding onto each other as the trapped entwined about them.  They shimmed their bodies together in a snakelike motion frantic from any freedom, muscles working feverishly beneath the skin suit.  The heat, their struggles and the bands steaming the life from their pliant bodies.  Finally they collapsed to the jungle floor the encircling green death too much to resist as they frantically undulating their bodies back to back.

            The warm morning sun covered the two operatives in its glow as they continued the struggle for freedom surrounded in their quiet glade by tropical flowers and grasses.  Silent in their exertions they writhed ceaselessly, sensuously contorting their lithe anatomy’s against the sinewy death that held them their silent touches of the other more comforting than mere words could express.  Each tenderly stroked their partner’s cheek, the caresses somehow nourishing their straining bodies with energy.  Whitney slithered the tops of her feet along Claire’s the action invigorating both sets of legs to renew the battle!  Claire rolled on to her stomach to allow her partner to continue the attack with the biological executioner that had them encased in its cinching ropes of ever tightening death.  Using her partners flattened body Whitney pushed along it arching hers up incrementally and pulling the coiled green death spring with her.  Claire's partner twisted in the hold above her trying to break the embrace but it still held the two taut, both knew they needed to put more tension against it.  Whitney rocked herself a little higher with a sudden upward thrust that undid her hair from the bun she had tied it in and it fell about Claire’s face.  The spy drinking in the luxuriant smell of apple and peach scented strands while supporting her partner as she arched her and Claire’s body further slowly moulding the two sealed women’s bodies into a human circle.  Their curvy physiques wrenching maniacally for freedom in a sinuous snake dance as the swathe of death reacted against them!  Both women’s bodies were accelerating to exhaustion, especially Whitney’s as she was bearing the greater strain and both knew this was their only chance, one slip of either of their forms and they’d be fused together for good.
            The spy pushed up and pulled Whitney down, taking the strain while her partner who rested softly stroked her cheek in a grateful gesture that Claire returned.  The ribboned women propelled upward again but could still not break the rubber’s fatal hold and both were close to the limits of their flexibility!  Their bodies danced their choreographed escape routine but with no success, Whitney’s body especially animated in its fervour as she plunged and pulsed in the binding.  Claire knew she was becoming desperate, as was she, but she needed to calm her partner and friend and at the same time give her the energy for one last try.  She sedated Whitney again with gentle reassuring strokes as she bent again, pain ran through her body, but did not reveal itself to her partner.  Just as she had hoped Whitney relaxed and gathered her strength while Claire took the pain for awhile.  Whitney raised one finger and traced it around the outline of Claire’s lips moist and hot with their struggles before Claire moistened it further with a feathery kiss then it slipped back around her chin.   Whitney and Claire wrenched their bodies again and moved within the elastic death trap, Whitney’s ferocity unleashed as her supple form attacked the weave her arsenal of cunning moves and serpentine motions labouring against the entwining bonds which refused to yield their prize.  Spent and trapped she refused to quit, she coiled and uncoiled her pliant body calling up new strategies, willing it to fight on as she pushed it back farther the heave taken on by Claire.

 Whitney knew what had to be done and did it; she pulled her partner hard up in the hold and executed yet another labyrinth of moves that this time produced freedom!  The unmistakable snapping of elastic filled the small clearing Whitney wiggling her body to snap the last of the trap free before disentangling herself from Claire and falling to the ground beside her partner her chest rising and falling spasmodically as she gulped in air.  Whitney put a hand on Claire’s back whose head nodded in acknowledgement that she was ok as her hand reached out and closed around that of her partners in thanks and relief.  They gathered up their gear and continued on, their pace quickened to make up for lost time, but each wondering what new danger this Garden of Eden may have in store for them.

 The two pushed on, Claire on the point, Whitney 10 feet back, they were getting close, both warriors could sense it.  Claire half crouched, her rifle at the ready inched forward wary of traps until she held up her hand, her fist closed, Whitney froze in place and waited for her comrade to backtrack to her position.

 “We’ve got a problem,” Claire stated.  “Heat sensors.  The minute we step foot near them they’ll know we’re here.  But I have a solution.” 

 Whitney didn’t like the sound of the way that came out nor did she like the face Claire made as she said it.  The two retreated down an incline that ran parallel to the first sensor.  They stepped over a large fallen tree and sat down to talk.

 “The sensors a Salming 900, can you override the system and mask the feedback loop to the main processor,” Claire asked.

            “Yes, but to do that somebody needs to activate the system so I can work on it…no way Claire, once inside you’re playing on their terms, they’ll send a patrol and pick you up in minutes or maybe they’ll just kill you!  Besides who knows what other goodies are lying inside that sensor field, if the patrol doesn’t kill you something else might, we’ve come to far for that to happen!” Whitney argued.

“You just said the operative word “We’ve”  you and I are the only ones who know we’re here. The only other person who knew about you is dead, thanks to you!  You’re the wild card, the key to this deception and ultimately the success of this mission!   That patrol is only going to find me, because that’s all the sensor will tell them is there, one body.  Once the patrol enters the field the sensors won’t be able to differentiate all the bodies from each other, especially when there in such close proximity to each other, couple that with the firefight and you have the perfect chance to work your magic. I’ll keep them interested for a while so you can work on the sensor.  Once I’m their prisoner wait a little while, follow us and find the chip.  This way we still have the element of surprise!” Claire smiled.
 

“What if they don’t take you prisoner” Whitney questioned.

            “That’s a chance we’re going to have to take!  Besides I’m counting on whoever’s in control of this place and their curiosity.  They’ll want me alive, at least for a while, to see what I know.” Claire stated flatly.

 “Remember the chip is the mission, it comes first, like it or not I’m expendable!  You get the chip first and then me!” Claire stated in a soft but still authoritative voice.  Whitney didn’t like it, the plan was too full of ifs and maybes, but she also understood it was really their only chance so she reluctantly nodded her agreement.

 The two made their way along the length of the enormous trunk of the downed tree that ran next to the sensor field.  Claire took off her radio set and gave it to Whitney along with as much spare ammunition as she could before picking up her weapon.   “Don’t reveal yourself to them for anything and that includes saving me!  I’ll give you the signal in two minutes and then we go to work.  Semper Paratus,” she said before picking up her weapon, swinging her body of the trunk and making for the sensor field.

 “Semper Fidelis,” Whitney whispered after her.

 Whitney scanned the area with her binoculars until she spotted another sensor close by that was surrounded by ground cover allowing her acceptable camouflage to do her work.  She swung the glasses back to focus on her partner.   Claire glanced at her watch, motioned with her hand and entered the sensor’s field and took up a position behind a giant Ebony tree as Whitney watched her through the glasses.  The waiting game commenced as the two commandos’ waited for the patrol to arrive; Claire brought the scope on the gun into position, switched off the safety and locked a bullet into the chamber.  Whitney readied her electrical equipment and ran the procedure, from start to finish through her mind making corrections to her plan as she went until she was finally happy with the result.

 The sound and movement of approaching footsteps awaked the stealth of the jungle; birds lifted off from the lower branches soaring to higher limbs in search of safety at the coming sound.  Claire positioned the folding stock of the Rothman into her shoulder and pressed her eye to the scope her hand on the trigger ready to squeeze as she picked her first target.  The sound of a multitude of bird’s wings and semi-automatic gunfire filled the air as Claire fired, hit and dropped her first target, aimed and dropped another with a second shot and then pushed her body up tight against the tree as a hail of bullets thudded into the trunk and all around her.  The vegetation disintegrated, bullets cutting it to pieces and sending it flying into the air around Claire as she switched the rifle to fully automatic swung her arm out around the trunk and squeezed of short bursts the barrel of the gun splitting out dragon’s fire from the muzzle.

 Whitney moved into position unscrewed the top of the sensor and went to work, her body pressed low to the ground to avoid detection as she worked.  Quickly and expertly a combination of jumper lines attached to a small scrambling device were attached to terminal ends within the sensor.  Whitney flipped a toggle switch to activate the unit, placed it inside the sensor, re-screwed the top and retreated to the tree trunk.

 The patrol had fanned out, attacking from all sides in an attempt to flank her.  Claire used the grenade launcher to slow their progress and stop a few of them in the process.  Bark and wood chips from the bullet-riddled tree flew in her face as she returned sporadic fire.  She needed to move or risk being trapped in their closing pocket around her!  Changing clips she burst from behind the tree running not backwards as expected by the patrol but forward to the apex of the trap spraying the gunfire from side to side as she went and then locking the weapon for the briefest of moments onto a medium sized tree straight ahead of her and firing to self propelled grenades into its base.  Seconds later the base of the tree exploded in fire and smoke, the area resounded with the splintering of wood as the tree teetered and then fell across Claire’s path.  The nimble spy leaping, rolling and landing behind it.  The patrol regrouped quickly took up secure positions and poured fire down upon the intruder.  The COIL agent’s gun spat death back at them until she had exhausted her ammo.  She pulled out the Beretta’s from either shoulder and kept up the battle for a short while reloading several times until inevitably she ran out of clips and fell silent behind her barrier.  The patrol sensing the end emerged from their hiding places and advanced into the open jungle toward her, machine guns ever ready just in case.

 Whitney watched the scene unfold before her as Claire slowly rose from behind the log her hands in the air.  “It’s a fucking broad!” she heard one of them say.  One of the men knelt down and removed the knives from Claire’s legs his hands sliding up and down the skin tight material as he did all the way up to between her leg’s.  “That’s enough!” she heard another man say as he pulled the others arm away from her.  “Just checking for concealed weapons,” said the other nonchalantly as she stood up and smiled.

 “Tie her hands behind her back,” said the leader.

“Now you’re talking.  Lets all have a go at her before we finish her off!” said the first man to the agreement of his comrades.

“Our orders were to bring back the intruder for questioning right away.”

“It won’t take long, besides this will soften her up a little!” the man said grinning evilly, again to the enthusiastic nods of his colleagues.

Whitney switched the safety off her gun, looked through the scope and brought the assholes forehead into the crosshairs.  “This isn’t going to happen, forget the mission nothing is worth this!” she said to herself as her finger closed around the trigger.

Claire smiled at the man in the crosshairs drawing him to her.  “I’d love you to have a go with me for as long as you want, but you know what?  I don’t think you’re up to it!” she said sweetly as the flat of her foot implanted itself like a rocket into his nuts.  “And after that I don’t think you’ll ever be up to it again!”  As he fell to his knees she drove her knee up and into his face, he tumbled backward unconscious his face a bloody pulp.  The head of the patrol seized the opportunity and barked orders for the fallen man to be carried back to base and Claire’s hands to be tied.  The others surveying the damage she’d quickly and expertly inflicted complied.   Whitney relaxed her finger from the trigger and her body in one giant exhale of tension.  In short order her partner was being marched through the jungle while she trailed behind them unseen and unheard using their trail of broken and trampled plants as her guide.

The operative crouched low and snaked her willowy body up the ridge peering over the top and into the camp below.   Whitney scanned the area with her binoculars as she made mental notes.  The entire operation was situated in a depression the ridge of which Whitney was on running all around it. The contents of the small valley consisted of three visible buildings; one pyramid shaped with a single door as far as she could tell with a base of 20 feet on each side was situated dead centre.  The second and third were square buildings about the same size, maybe 15 feet by 15 feet.  All were made of poured concrete, as was the pad the compound sat on.  The entire area was approximately 90 feet long by 40 feet wide.  Over top of the valley ran camouflage nets covered with dense vegetation to make the place invisible to low level air passes.  Two guards, one on each, stood atop the square buildings, each keeping watch, as well two more guards patrolled the centre of the compound on either side of the pyramid.  Whitney could see no sign of Claire, but her tactical training and intuition told her she was inside the centre building.

“There’s more here than meets the eye and most of it is inside that pyramid,” she said to herself as she scanned the area one more time her mind already fixed on a plan. 

 She moved to her right along the ridge, just out of sight until she was at one end of the compound.  Whitney reached into her pack and pulled out the long silencer for the Rothman and fitted it into place, she popped up the scope then slung the weapon over her shoulder adjusting the strap so it was snug but manoeuvrable on her body.  The operative then moved out and on to the camouflage netting, her hands and feet propelling her across the net just as a spider moves around her web.  Her sleek body skittered further out on the web her prey below unaware of the approaching danger as she positioned herself to strike coming to rest right above the guard on the roof.  Secretively she cleared away a small portion of the vegetation until she had a clear view of her target.  Noiselessly she swung the gun off her back and into firing position, her eye closed around the sight as the crosshairs followed her target’s movements.  Her body tensed and coiled was ready to spring as the moment arrived a few seconds later.  Whitney squeezed once, reacquired the target and fired again, brought the Rothman rifle up so the barrel pointing to the sky pulled her legs up along her body and dropped them through one of the holes in the web and fell towards the top of the building and the surprised guard below in the merest flash of a second.  Her legs came apart just enough to secure his head between her thighs, then they sealed closed and pinched tight taking him their prisoner.  The rifle stock returned to her shoulder, she focused and took out the guard on the building at the other end of the compound.  A quick deadly roll of her hips finished the final guard as her thighs released his lifeless body, she made for the ladder down to the ground, sliding on the outside rails rather than stepping on the rungs for increased speed.

Whitney hugged the concrete wall as she came around the corner to the door of the building.  So far she’d been silent and deadly but she knew that was about to change in a hurry!  She tried the door, hoping it was open so she could continue the mission in stealth for a little while longer, but it was locked.

“Time to invite everyone to the party Whitney,” she said flipping the switch on the gun to automatic and cocked the grenade launchers to place one in each chamber for firing. 

 “I’ll take what’s behind Door Number One Monty!” her voice echoed as she gave the gun a small burst then kicked it open! 

 A wall of sound and lead flew out the door, just as she had expected, narrowly missing her as she dove back and melted into the wall.  Whitney pumped a concussion grenade into the open doorway and moved away, a thunderous bang emanated from inside the concrete coffin bringing the previous sound and fury to an end.  The operative moved into open space giving her a clear view of the door to the other building at far end of the compound as it swung open.  Whitney sighted the weapon and fired a grenade into the open doorway, its path to target outlined for her in a trail of white smoke as it rocketed out of sight and exploded in a ball of light, fire and flesh tearing shrapnel, its destructive power catching all but one man who tried run for cover to one side of the pyramid before a muzzle blast from her gun twisted him around like a rag doll and crumpled him to the ground.

Lt. Whitney Thomas slammed her body hard into the side of the centre structure by the door.  Pumped the grenade launcher, both top and bottom chambers several times popping two grenades into her hands, both of which she placed at the foot of the door.  She ran to one corner turned took aim and fired a single shot setting off the fragmentation grenade and then a split second later the concussion grenade exploded.  Whitney rushed the door, hugged the edge of it, turn quickly into the open space, gun in the prone position in case needed.  It wasn’t five or six either lifeless or concussed bodies lay about the entranceway.  Just as she had expected a twisting stairway led down, she checked her clip for remaining rounds, stepped over the bodies and began her descent her work above having been accomplished in under two minutes.

Her body grazed the smooth wall as she stepped quickly; the rifle sweeping side to side as she descended what she guessed was about 50 to 60 feet.  The last turn of the staircase emptied her into a long corridor lit by overhead fluorescent bulbs and marked with a series of doors on either side, all accessed by a control card.  At the end of the corridor stood a large door, more imposing door than all the others, her nerves on overload she started slowly and carefully towards the door, every sound and shadow causing her body to react with nervous anticipation.  Whitney had the awful terrible feeling that she was being watched the entire time although visibly she could detect no cameras or sensors, that didn’t mean a thing as she well knew.  She past another door, her partner could be behind any of them yet without a pass card it was impossible to know and that was another thing how to obtain a card?  She could tell at a glance the doors and the walls would be impervious to a grenade attack or being simply shot open.  As she moved the problem around in her mind other things moved about her as well.  She turned and riddled the hallway with bullets; fire spitting from the barrel of the Rothman until the sound of the hammer striking nothing filled the hallway, her magazine was empty!  Whitney quickly flipped the clip around, jammed it into place, cocked the breech and began firing again, cutting down her assailants in a meat grinder of lead and grenade fragments until all was quite again.  The short intense battle had filled the corridor with the smoke of expelled cartridges and dust from blown away concrete and something else.  As the intense gun battle had raged the door she’d been standing astride had opened.   The rifle flew from her hands and down the corridor; she turned just in time to receive a sharp punch to her stomach that doubled her over followed by an elbow to the shoulder blades that laid her out on the hard floor.  Her foe pulled her up by the hair as Whitney struggled to find her feet, her body temporarily numbed by pain.  He slapped her face hard once, tried again, only this time the woman blocked it, turned around on the balls of her feet and drove her elbow hard into his gut.  Her leg snapped forward swung up her body and cracked him square in the face over her left shoulder.  She cartwheeled away, both her feet whipping into his head as she did spinning him around like a top and this time it was his turn to find the floor.  Whitney spun round after landing, her body coiled to strike as she ran, leapt and extended one of her legs crashing into his skull again, then she saw it, the pass card she needed, but she also needed something else, information and he needed to talk!

“The end of the corridor, insert the card and you’ll find the chip!” he whimpered.

“Where’s my partner!” Whitney demanded pressing her fingers deeper into the nerve endings of his neck.

“I don’t know!” he exclaimed louder his panic echoing down the hall.

“Not good enough!” Whitney demanded as she lowered herself down to her knees reached across with her free hand and pulled the Beretta from its shoulder holster cocked it and put it to his head!  He started to pant in fear; his pulse already dangerously high went even higher!  “Talk!”

 The bullet thumped into the concrete wall and he fell over.  Whitney retrieved the card.  “Guess you really didn’t know anything after all,” she sighed rising up.  “That lump is going to hurt when you wake up maybe by then you’ll feel more like talking or if you’re smart you’ll simply disappear.”

 Whitney retrieved her rifle, traversed back to the end door and inserted the card.  The door slid silently open and Whitney stepped inside.  The smell of ozone and Freon assaulted her immediately, she recognised the all too familiar scents that accompanied a large sealed and climate controlled computer lab, which this most certainly was!  “Man, this is nerd heaven,” she said in awe as her eyes swept the room looking for the main processing unit and the chip.  They soon fell upon the most likely suspect and she moved towards it, if need be she’d pull out every circuit board to find the one Claire had described to her.

“I wouldn’t touch that if I ever wanted to see Miss Baxter alive again, not that she or for that matter you will be alive much longer anyway!  I do however congratulate you and COIL on getting this far, it was for you unfortunately a long way to come just to lose when it all looked so close to working out for the good guys!”

Whitney levelled her weapon and prepared to shoot as the sound of derisive laughter from her protagonist filled the room.  “Please go ahead and shoot and the second you do then entire room will flood with Haylon Gas killing us both in seconds,” her latest nemesis answered.

Whitney smiled, put the rifle down, removed her Beretta’s, placed them on the table, reached down and pulled the Bowie knives from her leg straps, spun them around in her hands once and said. 

 “What have you done with and where is my partner!?”

“Miss Baxter wouldn’t talk, you COIL agents noble to the end.  She’s right through that door at the far end of the room and here’s the key you need to get in to claim her body.  Come and take it from me Miss?”

“Lieutenant Whitney Thomas, United States Navy!”

“Miss Baxter certainly is losing her touch if all see could muster was a lowly Lieutenant.  COIL must be losing its influence.  No matter I’m sure you’ll die just as well as a higher ranking officer would!” the woman said as she undid and slipped off her lab coat.  She wore a skin tight snake skin emerald green body suit complete with a design of a snake’s body coiling up one leg around her waist and chest several times before the head emerged over her left shoulder.  From behind her back she pulled out two Sai Swords, twirled them around in her hands loosely before she closed around them and assumed her fighting stance, one sword pointed outward at her waist the other just over top of her head. 

 “Before we start I feel it only fair to tell you that my swords are poison tipped, so even the merest scratch of my claws will kill!”

She struck fast with lightning quick moves and probing thrusts.  Her poisoned tridents a blur of steel and sparks as they collided with Whitney’s knives!  The Naval Officer blocked all the blows with deadly accuracy and proficiency as she countered and slashed the air creating a buzz as her blades lashed out.  The woman rotated the swords and struck at her with a downward motion that Whitney blocked as her knives became locked together with the trident Sai swords!  The woman turned her wrists using the natural leverage of the trident in an effort to twist the knives from Whitney’s hands.  The embattled officer rolled backward pulling her foe with her and flipped her up and over using her legs to springboard her away to a hard landing!  A smart nip up and a turn brought Whitney back to her feet fire blazing in her eyes as she came at her opponent!

The snake woman came at Whitney to her arms swinging in wide circles as she got closer.  Whitney opened up and blocked the blows more of poison needles but not from the woman as her cobra fast kicks struck their fangs into her chest and thighs!  A spinning roundhouse kick sent Whitney flying up in the air to a hard landing on her side.  She wobbled to her feet, shaking her head in a desperate effort to clear the cobwebs.  The woman twirled the swords and thrust downward with a killing blow to Whitney’s exposed stomach!  The swords embedded themselves just inches short of their goal in the blades of the Bowie knives!  The woman turned the tridents and wrenched the knives out of Whitney’s hands; their metallic clanging resounding throughout the room as they sailed easily from her grip!  Whitney lunged and caught her wrists preventing the fatal strike just in time, the woman moved in, pulled upward and smashed her elbows down in Whitney’s shoulders a spinning crescent kick crashed her body face down to the floor!

Whitney rolled over and pushed slowly along the floor trying to escape the stalking snake woman as she approached.  She arched back madly pushing with her legs and elbows frantically willing her body to move faster as the snake woman got closer and closer until she was close enough to strike.  Whitney rocketed upward her legs springing her up and toward the woman.  The woman struck with the swords, the steel cutting the tense air as Whitney tucked her body tight, somersaulted over top over her, uncoiled and landed in back of her.  Whitney caught a wild backwards swing from the woman’s arm by her wrist and the other arm as it followed through letting it cross over her previous arm before she caught it by the wrist as well!  The poisoned prongs embedded their venom into each side of the woman’s neck the next second as Whitney pushed and bent her arms forward.  Just the tips pricked the surface as the two women starred into each other’s eyes!  Whitney slowly twisted and pushed the blades inward each second a little easier than the last as her opponent weakened.  One final thrust from her arms implanted them as far as they would go; Whitney released her grip and stepped back.  The snake woman stood there dazed, shocked as if wondering to herself how this could have happened.  Her hands closed around the blood soaked handles of the Sai Swords in a vain effort to pull them out, before giving up and falling to her sides.  Whitney stepped closer, put her hands over the sword handles and gave a sharp 180-degree turn taking the snake woman’s head along for the ride.  The body gave a death shudder then fell to the ground the bloody sword handles slipping from Whitney’s hands.  “The poison was taking too long!” Whitney said derisively as she stepped over the body retrieved her knives, guns, found the key and rushed to save her partner.

Whitney found the unconscious Claire dangling from the ceiling by her arms!  Tenderly she raised her up a little, reached up and cut the bindings, Claire free at last fell over her back as Whitney moved out of the room and toward the main processor.  Gently she set her teammate down and freed the chip. 

 “Gotcha!” she exclaimed examining the chip through her magnification eyepiece and then slipping it securely into her suit.

 Picking up Claire, she retraced her steps down the corridor up the stairs and out into the afternoon daylight, across the compound and up the hill a short ways into the jungle setting her down next to the tree where she left her backpack.  She moistened her partner’s lips with some water, whispered a few comforting words to her then grabbed the backpack and disappeared back into the compound.

Claire was conscious when she returned and able to walk as the two made for the ocean, Whitney calling in the rendezvous point to base command on a secure channel of their satellite phone.  “Would you like to do the honours?” she said passing a small device to Claire.

“Complete the mission Lt. Thomas,” Claire said smiling despite the pain she was in as she folded her partner’s fingers back into her palm and around the remote that Whitney pushed.  The ground beneath them rumbled for a few seconds then the jungle was quiet again.

During the mission debriefing Claire got to hear all that she had missed, including Whitney’s assault on the compound and her battle with Retana.  Whitney got to hear how the compound was in reality almost a massive radar/GPS/communication listening outpost for DOOM for all of South East Asia that was due to go online within days!  The ramifications of which would have been catastrophic for all security intelligence agencies worldwide had it happened.

Whitney got a few days leave and Claire joined her as the two soaked up some sun on the beach during the day and fended off assorted male military advances at local night spots.  The day of Claire’s departure they had an early morning meeting with Commander Reinhardt and they were late as Whitney screamed the Hummer to a stop and the two raced up the stairs, down the hall skidding to a stop and knocked on the Commander’s door. 

 “You two get your butts in her now, your late!” he screamed just loud enough so that the entire outer office could hear.  Whitney took a deep breath, turned the handle and entered, Claire following.

“You’re late Thomas!” he yelled as Whitney stood stiff at attention.  Hanging around Miss Baxter you’ve picked up some of her bad habits!  When I say I want to see you at a certain time I mean a certain time do I make myself clear!”

“Aye Aye Sir!”

“Just because you had some small success in the field doesn’t cut you any slack around here!  Don’t think those people out there aren’t watching you, thinking well if she can get away with so can I.  So don’t go getting a swelled head over your day trip with Miss Hotshot Spy.  My Executive Officer needs to be someone I can count on!  Are you that person Lieutenant Commander Thomas!”  Reinhardt said and smiled as he held out her new epaulets.  “Congratulations on a job very well done!”

Whitney looked lost, her eyes disappearing into very small disks until a salute from her commanding officer snapped her back to reality and she auto reflexed a salute back.  Claire gave her a kiss on the cheek and a hug.

“I need to speak to Claire alone for a minute Lt. Cmdr. Thomas,” Cmdr. Reinhardt said as he escorted her out the door to the applause of her subordinates.

“Miss Hotshot Spy!?” Claire offered a twinkle in her eye

“Best I could do on short notice.  What do you think?” he asked.

“She’d be perfect, looks, brains, skills.  She was incredible out there, for a first mission her performance was better than some I’ve seen with 5 years experience!”  Claire praised.  “But it has to be her choice, she has to chose it, just as she chose the Navy, it can’t chose her, if you follow.  At 23 and a Lt. Cmdr. Already, her career looks pretty bright, lets leave it at that.”

Claire smiled and left the office.  Whitney walked her to her car wished her luck in Singapore and said goodbye.  She returned to find the in basket on her desk piled high with manila folders and the depressing task that lay ahead.  She sat down closed her eyes and imagined.

               THE END