Undercover Ops Ch. 05

Undercover Ops: Ch. 05

Cassidy was missing something and she hated the feeling! She kicked the single table leg in frustration. Her mood failed to improve since the incident. In fact, it had worsened. She needed to clear her mind a bit. She chose to blame the whole affair on her failure to install weapons on the bike and decided to immediately rectify the problem. Unfortunately she lacked the focus, due to excitability, to control her mechanical muscles with enough precision to keep from crushing her tools, much less the weapons themselves. She gave up on the attempt she got dressed and headed out to blow off steam at Screaming Frenzy.

She reviewed her outfit. A tight, pale blue corset under a black, lace cami with hints of the turquoise bra underneath. On bottom she wore a black, leather miniskirt that stopped over half a foot short of her knees. Over that clung a full-length black skirt made with of fine weave fishnet. She knew the combination would allow everyone sitting across from her a virtually unobstructed view of her scandalously transparent turquoise lace thong regardless of the table.

The problem is, NO ONE IS SITTING THERE!

If she was being honest with herself she wanted 'Mysterious' Merritt to gaze longingly at her outfit. She was in no mood for honesty. She claimed she wanted attention, to drag some of those pretty-boy execs away from the rocker party-girls by flirtation and seduction alone. At this point her mood was foul enough to do it by brute force just to snub the egotistically content bastards.

They hadn't even noticed her when she flowed onto the dance floor. But, sure, they all noticed when she tripped over the speaker cord and unplugged it with her uncomfortable two-inch black stiletto heels. She forced herself to stop wishing there was more stiletto and less heel to the shoes.

Having given up on being social, she slumped into one of the few booths. She scared away the current residents with a cold glare. Her omnipresent e-pad lay on the table ~still with no one on the other side~ and slowly cycled through image displays of the missing IOs.

That had been the one useful aspect of the night. When she arrived back at her apartment an actual hard copy letter was waited, from the Owners. With the note was a disk of holo images of all of the missing. The note informed her that one Mr. William 'Speedjack' Tinsley had been found as well as a of listing the contents of the disk. She used her microcomp long enough to relay the night's adventures to the third tier archives.

"I doubt you're her type."

Startled Cassidy looked up from the display, to find one of the rare male professional party-goers standing just off the table. His hand rested near the e-pad, a single finger having hit a button to pause the incessant cycling of images.

"What did you say?"

Cassidy was off her guard, not merely because the man managed to somehow sneak up on her, but also the way he was inspecting her. Her knees, turned unconsciously toward the exit of the booth, were slightly apart as habit from many years wearing exclusively pants. Her skin heated, legs snapped together and attempted to bury themselves under her. As she moved to sit with her feet curled comfortably under she forgot about the heels and proceeded to get them tangled in the fishnet overskirt. In the resultant struggles she ended curled up fetal in a corner of the booth.

The fashionable young man leaned with one hand on the table, grinned from ear to ear and desperately tried not to laugh as he stared at the spectacle. She started to shift back into a normal sitting position, then discovered he'd had that unobstructed view throughout her tribulations. She hoped he had moved to the end of her bench in order to obstruct anyone else's perfect view of her embarrassment and not to memorize her intimate contours.

Confident his laughter was under control he repeated himself. "I said, you're not her type." He waved at the image of one of the IOs she didn't know particularly well; a very young, relatively new combat op. "Although I'd assume if you pay well enough you could be."

"I'm sorry." Cassidy finally settled into a comfortable, and safe, position. "But I have no idea what you're talking about."

The man sat down across the booth from her. She went to double check that her legs were together before remembering that it didn't matter. He'd still be able to see some of her thong, regardless, if he looked. At the moment he was content to look her in the eyes. She tried to keep from growling at the laughter that still shined in them.

"I assumed you were looking for an 'escort' for something. She's new." He motioned towards the holo. "And I know she works with guys so likely she hasn't branched out yet."

Cassidy was getting more and more confused by the conversation, which didn't help her mood any. It must have showed in her expression because his confident facade seemed to crack slightly.

"I think you have her confused with someone else." Funny, shave off the false confidence and the body he works so hard on becomes a little more attractive.

Defiance flashed in his eyes. He quickly pulled himself together, now his confidence completely unfeigned.

"Nope. That's her all right. I recognize the ink just peeking out on her shoulder blade." Cassidy took a closer look at the holo and noticed he was right. There was indeed a tattoo on the IO's back. "Look, people in my line of work don't just mooch off of people at parties and clubs. Some, like myself, don't do that at all. What you all see as pro-partiers, the next step down from whores, are usually event coordinators."

His professional 'happy-face' had slipped during his speech. Cassidy discovered she liked seeing the more human side of what she had thought of as little more than a well sculpted mannequin. However she also was somewhat mollified. He was right, she had viewed them in just that light.

"I need to know what's in fashion, what's not, what people are listening to and how they're dancing! This," his arm waved wildly to include the club, "is research for me. Do I enjoy it? Sure, but don't think of me as some rich layabout."

Her anger rapidly washed away under the torrent of his verbal barrage to be replaced with embarrassment and a little shame. He spun the e-pad so the display was looking directly at Cassidy.'

"Sure I know these kind of people. Some events are more debauchery than classy so I need to know who I can trust to hire. Who will keep their mouth shut afterwards? Who will allow what? So I have to know the whores, all right?"

Cassidy's eyes hardened in an instant. "Stop!" Shocked out of his tirade by the look in her eyes and command in her voice, he did. "You said she was new? How new?" The last two words came out as little more than a growl.

Now he was afraid. He didn't know what this unknown woman might mean to an equally unknown, but obviously very dangerous, club patron but there was obviously some more personal connection here.

"I'm not positive. Two weeks maybe?"

"And you are absolutely positive it's her?" Cassidy spun the display back to face him. He nodded meekly. "Working on the street?" No. "Through someone?" A little confusion. He was now too afraid to talk. "An agent?" No. "A house?"

His eyes left hers. Not only was this missing IO now working for a brothel but there was some reason that this event coordinator was afraid to speak of it.

"Look, all of these people," she hit the button un-pausing the changeover, "are missing persons. There are some very rich, and very influential people desperate to find out what has happened to them."

It wasn't entirely a lie. She herself was actually 'very rich', and the Owners of The Gutter certainly qualified as 'very influential'. She just let him believe she was talking about people with political or corporate clout rather than street influence. After all, she never said they were 'powerful' individuals although an argument could be made even there.

"Are you a cop?" Startled, Cassidy shook her head. "Corporate security?" Again. "You're an Op. aren't you?"

"Yes. I've been asked to find out what's happened to these thirteen people."

"Look, I'm sorry but I can't tell you anything more. If she really is a missing person and not a runaway then I may have already said too much." The man was clearly mortally afraid. "What I have said is true though and nothing that couldn't be learned across the park anyway."

He stood quickly and moved around to her side of the booth.

"I'm sorry but I have to go now. If you're employer ever wants to plan an event please have him check my rep. I'm fairly well entrenched. Not top line mind you but mostly because I don't charge top dollar."

As he spoke his confidence returned slightly and his eyes began to flicker down to her chest. He held out a business card while trying to take in her entire outfit.

"I must say, though, I like your style. Most women are too unsure of themselves, or too afraid of some man losing themselves and overpowering her, to wear that."

With a last, longing, look at her lap he turned and hurried off. She smiled.

The man had indeed changed her perception of the professional party-goers. She understood the need to keep up to date with the latest intelligence. Where he needed to know dance steps and music she understood weapons and security systems. She was a regular at trade shows and corporate unveilings, much like his nightly sojourns to the clubs and parties. Only, she admitted, much more dry than these places. She put his card into a small compartment on her e-pad and clipped it to her belt.

She grabbed her jacket from the coat check she hurried into the night. The coordinator, Parity "P. J." Jester according to his card, had let slip more information. Cassidy was sure it had been intentional when he mentioned the park. Across from the park were only two districts; the Heights and the Barrens. The Heights contained nothing but very expensive mansions. The whole district lay on top of a very carefully sculpted hill. The sides of the hill had been cut away vertically to create an unclimbable five hundred foot sheer cliff on all sides. The only way into or out of the district was by private helicopter or other VTOL craft. The anti-aircraft and anti-missile systems that surrounded the district were among the best in the world. They even surpassed those of many countries' capital buildings. To the best of her knowledge the only business run out of there were the behind-the-scenes dealings of the Magacorps. If a brothel operated there, not only would she be unable to do anything about it but it would be an unofficial subsidiary of some Mega.

Cassidy looked around, made sure the coast was clear, before she hiked her skirts up entirely. She flashed her underwear to an empty alley and strapping on leather chaps, complete with a loin wrap to cover her simple lingerie. She kicked the stunned body away from her bike, entered the security code and roared into the night.

If the Heights were some fairytale castle on a hill, then the Barrens was the monster filled moat that protected it. In order to get near the heights from the ground one had to cross through a few miles of the mixed industrial and residential district known as 'the Barrens'. The part of the city was an interesting mixture of poverty and plenty. If corruption and vice needed a physical representation it would certainly be there.

As the black bike raced through nearly empty streets another piece of the puzzle clicked into place and provided her with the broad picture, if not the details. Someone was using gangs to round up reasonably attractive women IOs and somehow turning them into sex slaves.

Despite her earlier contention that an Op would see herself dead before used in such a manner it was possible to surprise or overpower anyone, no matter how skilled. Since it almost happened to Cassidy, she conceded that Shade would be relatively easy pickings. She shuddered at the thought of the poor woman in such a setting.

The woman P. J. identified was one of the first of the missing people. Gone for almost a month, it was entirely possible that it had taken a couple of weeks for whoever was behind the scenario to break her to suitable use. Given enough time, and different methods, anyone could be truly broken, Cassidy admitted silently even she could.

Two weeks was a reasonable amount of time for a strong-willed rookie. Cassidy only hoped Shade had the sense to give in quickly, relinquish her pride rather than suffer mental, emotional and physical torture. Pride could always be bought back with revenge, but only if you were still alive and whole.

She raced towards the Business District at top speed, pedestrians and cross roads a blur as they whipped past. Likely the gangs identified IOs by their dress and mannerisms as the others had her earlier. The Owners would be glad to hear that, as it meant they were safe. Unless, of course, they were women who lived in the city somewhere, but she wouldn't even pose that. They were smart enough to figure that out on their own and just to suggest it could seem to pry into their identities.

Now that she knew, with fair certainty, what had happened, Cassidy found herself even more distracted. While she hoped Shade was smart enough to swallow her pride, Cassidy was upset enough at the indignity for the both of them. Beyond who was at the center of this she wanted to, no, needed to understand why.

Why kidnap IOs to use in prostitution when there were untold women who would go willingly? Ops. would be especially difficult to break, and even if they did, you could never be fully sure they stayed broken. And, of course, their training made them dangerous to customers and keepers alike.

Finally, the sheer number had her boggled. They couldn't distribute them to various houses. There was far too great a risk that the operation would be discovered in that case. Otherwise, it meant a decent sized institution, unless they expected a high injury or mortality rate. Of course, if they were catered to people with violence fantasies then they would need a constant supply.

But P. J. implied she was just another girl, not a specialist, so likely at least some were simply broken for normal prostitution. Men who got off on controlling what once was a tough woman? Maybe even some sadism, in order to keep the women well and truly broken.

Unless of course, this one girl had simply run away from her team and become a whore. Cassidy doubted it. She had seen the woman's budding dossier and it was impressive. Besides, her instinct screamed that everything was connected. She slowed down as she approached her intersection and took the left very low to the ground. She wished for her skid bars as her leg sped inches from the pavement. She slowed further when she saw the shop ahead. She knew it would be open, she just hoped Max was in.

The Lynx pulled back into the shop at a more leisurely pace. She avoided the bays and parked off to the side, in a section of the warehouse reserved for employees and visitors. In a city, parking is a luxury and Max liked to treat both her customers and employees to such as she could.

She caught a few whistles and lewd remarks as she wandered across the garage towards the main office. That reminded Cassidy about her outfit so she turned her course and plunged into the bathroom first. Moments later, she returned to her bike to stow the chaps before she turned once more for the office. The whistles continued but the lewd comments, fortunately abated. She hoped, for their sakes, Max never found out who had made those comments or they would be on the streets with a very black mark on their work record.

Cassidy knocked quietly on the door. There were soft noises coming from within, but nothing she could identify. She knocked a little louder and was fairly certain she heard a woman mumbling crossly.

"Max? It's Cassidy, could I talk to you for a few minutes?"

Suddenly there was a fair amount of shuffling around inside the office. By the time she heard Max confirm she would open the door 'in a minute' Cassidy was fairly certain she would find two people in the room. Likely trying to look as casual as possible while in opposite corners of the room.

The door opened to find Max standing in a very revealing deep blue dress. The front was cut from her neck clear down to her smooth navel, and barely covered her ample chest. The sides were similarly cut wide around her arms and failed to join again until they reached her strong hips. Unlike the front, the fabric at the sides was fairly loose, and gave Cassidy the impression that, from the side, virtually all of the woman's round breast could be seen clearly. Although the dress fell to Max's ankles there was a slit up each side that ended in only a few inches of material before they opened once more for the extended sides. All in all Cassidy thought the dress an amazing combination of flirtatious class and sensual accessibility.

"What a delight to see you again! Is everything ok? It's not about the bike is it?" Max was clearly a little flustered. Cassidy's trained ears knew she had only just recovered from breathing heavily. "Where are my manners? Come in and sit!"

The office was far more spartan than most people expected, given the flamboyant owner. Max waved her towards the leather couch. There was another occupant in the room. Seated at the leather swivel chair was a very beautiful blond woman who wore an immaculate grey pants-suit. Again, trained eyes noticed the single button missed, in haste, barely visible under the casual sports coat. Neither woman wore lipstick, although both maintained all of the other standard cosmetics. Max always wore lipstick. Cassidy smiled inwardly remembering Max's earlier comment 'I always hoped I had a chance.' She hadn't known the truth of that statement until now.

Max moved over to the only other pieces of furniture and half leaned, half sat on the desk. Sitting behind it would have distanced the businesswoman from her guests, a move Cassidy would have expected considering how long she had kept her preferences a secret. As it was Max even turned to the other woman with a look of commingled love and longing.

"Tascha this is Cassidy." Somehow it felt like Max was dragging her eyes away from the woman to Cassidy. "Cassidy, this is... my lover, Natascha Miroslav." Natascha gasped with a pleasantly excited expression. She turned back to her lover and continued. "She's a dear friend and can keep a secret very well. Besides, I'm fairly certain she's guessed by now." The last was said with the slightest wink in Cassidy's direction.

"Cassidy what? Wait, The Cassidy?"

"I've never known her by any other name. And yes love, The Cassidy."

All of the attention was beginning to embarrass Cassidy. She wrung her hands in her lap, looked down, and tried to wait out the storm. Most of the time she didn't have to deal with it, preferring anonymity to notoriety. Those who knew her were generally friends and were long since used to her reputation.

"So what... uh..." Cassidy looked back up to find both of the women watching her. "Sorry, what can I do for you?"

"Look, I'm sorry I'm here so late and interrupting but I needed your help with something I was hoping to start tonight."

She rushed through, her thoughts caught off guard by the situation she stumbled in on, and even more so by the obvious trust Max had just shown in her. She took a deep breath to focus her thoughts. She refused to tell Max about the missing women or her suspicions of their fate. Aside from getting her involved and putting her in danger, the woman was likely to go tearing off trying to help save them. She did not remember her own past fondly, though she refused to hide from it, and would take ill to anyone being forced into that life.

"I need a makeover."

Both women gasped. "Oh darling, your outfit is quite wonderful as it is!"

Cassidy was confused for a moment before she remembered that the effect it was intended to have on men, well one man in particular, would also apply quite succinctly to these two women. Max laughed as Cassidy's entire body blushed deep red. Natascha simply continued to stare at her lap with a hungry look.

"I take it you found your man with the customized Stinger?"

Cassidy laughed. Suddenly all of the awkward tension left her. Max had the amazing ability to make anyone, in any situation, comfortable. Even Tascha's gaze no longer made her uncomfortable. She realized, with pleasant surprise, it was flattering and even a little exciting.

"Actually I'm on assignment and need to go undercover." Both of the other women nodded. Tascha, however caught her eye with a look that suggested another meaning for her final choice of words. "I'm heading into the Barrens to work on the street for some intel."

"That shouldn't be a problem, though your mannerisms will stick out some. Not so badly, I think, as a suburban posing as a city wage-slave however." She added a wink. Apparently Max kept a very good record of her activities! "Your look will depend on what you'll be doing there. What kind of job are... Oh. You mean 'work on the street' type work. Ah, I see the problem." She laughed suddenly. "Your current outfit would work quite nicely if it weren't so tailored. I would have killed for any single piece of it back then. With the whole thing I could have bought my freedom in half the time! How much experience do you have with men dear?"

Max stood up as Cassidy answered. Her hand went to her chin as she looked Cassidy over critically, moving to inspect her from other angles.

"Not very much. They've always been nervous around me. And since the accident I'm even more nervous than they are." She held up her hands, palms turned inward, indicating the difficulty.

"That's a simple matter. I can easily build you a governor for them." Something flashed in her eyes. "Dear lord, if I'd known I would have done it years ago! I mean, it must be hard to..." Max's hands fluttered around in front of her own groin. Cassidy looked down sadly. "You can't! That's it. I'm building you one which you can install or remove at will. Unfortunately I don't have the programming skill to build one that you could turn on and off without removing it entirely but at least you'll be able to live a normal life with those hulking things.

"Obviously while undercover you will have to leave them on unless you are truly in mortal danger. The women, you, will get beat pretty badly from time to time but the moment you show your strength or skills it's over. Unless you manage to kill everyone present, including any bystanders, you will be known as an Op., or worse an Agent. Anything you hoped to learn would be closed off, anyone you were tracking will disappear. Do you understand that? Can your pride live with that?"

Cassidy nodded in determination. The hand flew out of nowhere to slap painfully across her cheek. Cassidy's hand came up to her face, hurt eyes sought out Max.

"Yes. That is the look that should be in your eyes, not the one that says 'I'm a strong woman, I can do anything I put my mind to'."

Max crouched down until the two were eye to eye. She took Cassidy's hand from her cheek, brought it to meet the other in her lap and covered Cassidy's with her own.

"I know you've always been either a combat or stealth operative but this calls for a completely different set of skills. I know you make it a habit of dealing with issues during assignments so you can leave it all behind afterwards, but this time you can't. This time it's either tally the abuses and indignities and wait until afterwards to take revenge, or swallow your pride for however long it takes and maintain your reputation. In the end it won't matter in the slightest except to you and your reputation because no matter what you do, or don't do, afterwards those bastards will still be there doing everything they can, to anyone they can. The names change but the stereotypes don't."

Cassidy was dispirited. She had thought it would be a simple matter to slip in, disguised as a prostitute, ask the other women a few questions about a new brothel eating into business and then slip back out to call in the cavalry after she checked out the place.

"Do you think I can do this?"

Max laughed gently, tinged slightly with sorrow.

"Cas, the look was right. You are a strong woman who can do anything you put your mind to. You are also an intelligent woman and can learn the same tricks I did, not to show others the truth of yourself. No matter what they're doing to you."

There was a sorrow in the last part that almost overwhelmed Cassidy. Natascha hurriedly got up from the chair to crouch behind Max and enfold the woman in a sympathetic hug. Max's hands came up to cover those of her lover and rested a world-weary head against soft arms.

Loath to interrupt the touching moment Cassidy whispered. "When can we start? There is something of a time constraint."

Moist eyes looked up to meet hers. "We'll start right after I make you those governors. Meanwhile calls those friends of yours to warn them where you're going if you haven't already." Even distraught Max seemed to remember what was best for her.

Copyright 2006, By Deathlynx