#returns

Prison ZA-187 - Canadian Rockies

She saw daylight three times a week and spent the rest of it making dolls. Forty hours a week, fifty-two weeks a year, she spent glueing outfits onto replicas of the Gynarchy leaders. But they were in high demand despite their freaky looking faces. 

It creeped the hell out of Alexis. 

So much so that every so often she’d lose it and begin stabbing a doll repeatedly. She was so angry at being forced to work on something she had attempted (unsuccessfully) to fight against and after all, what could they do to her?  She was already in for life. A little bit of solitary was a welcome relief. Today, she was back after her most recent stint of isolation, glueing rubber outfits to plastic dolls. Over and over again. 

When not losing her cool, she liked to take pride in her work. She was a god damn scientific genius and right now she could feel her temperature rising as the dress she was trying to put on the doll was not cooperating. 

In the background was the usual noise coming from a tv playing some game show or infomercial. The whole thing was propaganda anyway so she tried to treat it like it was white noise and tune it out. It managed to blend in with the usual hum of activity so well that it became second nature to her but when it suddenly got quiet she noticed. 

Usually, when it got quiet it was because someone was having a meltdown or there was an inspection going around. But there was usually a different sort of quiet hum. This was however too quiet. 

She looked up and saw both prisoners and guards alike hovering around the television set. Curious, she moved over to join them and see what was happening. 

The screen flickered between images of fire blazing and buildings crumbling all with a “GYNews - Breaking News” banner flashing underneath. 

“And once again we’re getting reports of massive explosions from around the world. We don’t, as yet, know the cause but will bring you any news as this story develops.”

Alexis stood there mouth wide like the others managing to make only one word. 

“Woah…”

—

Abandoned Tube Station, London

Jennifer’s eyes slowly began to open as she became aware of someone standing over her blocking the light. 

“Jennifer!” Chistina was shouting as she shook Jennifer rather vigorously. “Wake up.”

“What’s happening?” Jennifer mumbled as if waking from a deep sleep or a serious hangover.

“It’s ok you’re safe.” 

Christina reached around behind her and began to cut away the ties but when Jennifer tried to move she simply lifted for a second then fell back into the chair.

“Easy there,” Christina said placing her hand on Jennifer’s shoulder.  “We don’t know how long you’ve been here for.”

“What happened?”

“Long story short: Michelle isn’t bound on the wall in my study like we thought and when I tried to find you I was eventually able to track you down to here. I think the two might be connected. What happened to you? How did you end up here?”

“I don’t know” Jennifer responded feeling her temple as a roaring headache melting her brain. “I was watching a safe house on the outskirts of London and then I remembered waking up here with you over me.”

Christina looked at Jennifer visibly confused.

“But you were conscious when I came in to rescue you. You had a gag in your mouth but we made eye contact and you mumbled something then passed out.”

“I,” Jennifer began trying to think back to what had happened in between. “I don’t remember that..” 

As Jennifer’s voice trailed off, a Gynarchy commando came running into the room holding a tablet.

“Ma'am, you need to see this,” they said thrusting the tablet towards her. “We’re under attack.”

Christina took it and as she processed the images, her face alternated between horror, shock and anger.

“Michelle,” she muttered tapping her finger on the screen. “She has to be behind this.”

“Why?” Jennifer asked. “All you have is that she is missing. There is no way yet to connect her to this.”

Christina attempted to connect the dots between Michelle not being where she was supposed to be and the recent events but her links were circumstantial. Jennifer could have verified them but they were reliant on memories Jennifer no longer had. 

“You’re making leaps Christina,” Jennifer said bluntly, still battling her headache which seemed to get better for a moment. “We need proof before we can link her to this.”

Seeing Christina upset at her ideas being rebuffed, Jennifer tried to calm her down. 

“Look we’ll find whoever did this. And whether it was Michelle or not we’ll find her too.”

As Christina started to pace back and forth putting together the events in every way to try and link Michelle, Jennifer was sitting in the corner wondering what else she wasn’t remembering. What had happened between blacking out in the safe house and waking up here. 

Her head was thumping with the returning headache.

—

Resistance Camp, Coventry, England

During her attempt to gain a foothold within the Gynarchy, Michelle made very few if any mistakes. Or at least she thought so. This, of course, meant that the failure of her previous plan was not in fact her fault but rather sloppy work of others that was the root of the problem. Failure this time would not be a possibility as she had taken direct control of each phase. Each person has so little to think about that it could not possibly go wrong. 

After her escape many months ago, her first task was to orchestrate the disbanding of the agency. She introduced an idea that the agency had been infiltrated all the way to the highest of levels. She poked and prodded it every so often but the mission had gone smoothly. Of course, she was wary that there would be a small trail that would lead back to her.

Her current plan had been meticulously planned over the last few months and as the start date drew closer and closer she had begun to double and triple check the work her former rescue party carried out. She simply didn’t trust them not to mess everything up on her and force her on the run again.

She had feared that remnants of Complex 8 would come back to find her in some shape or form. Then she got news of the events in the safe house. 

The infiltration of the safe house in Knightsbridge just a few short time ago summed up perfectly how dangerous even a single element of the Gynarchy could be. Luckily for Michelle and her plans, the incompetent fool who was followed into the safehouse wasn’t totally incompetent and managed to set off the sleeping gas. Of course, he had still made a mistake and was severely punished but it could have been a lot worse. 

In fact, it had turned out for the better with Jennifer now on their side. Kind of. Michelle hoped that should the need arise her new sleeper agent would be able to misdirect the Gynarchy or help her in some way that would buy her some time so that the plans she set in motion to be irreversible. 

There was a chance that Jennifer might be able to resist of course but Michelle thought of it as more like some fancy decoration.

Since her escape from London Michelle had been busy with her latest plan of which phase one had just been completed. A former project spearheaded by Alexis had been deployed successfully and all that was left was to watch the news as Gynarchy forces deployed to contain and assess the damage caused. 

Phase two was all about the narrative being adjusted and controlled through social media and the resulting news reports. The message they spread was quite simple. Fear and control. Or more specifically was the gynarchy afraid of losing control? And then the resulting fear that caused.

News headlines called the explosions ‘catastrophic’ and were already looking for who and what to blame. 

‘Devastation in cities across the world! Who is responsible?’

‘Gynarchy orbital weapons launched? Who pulled the trigger?’

‘Did the gynarchy turn their weapons on there on people?’ 

‘Has the hunt for rebels gone too far?’

She couldn’t have written them better herself. Of course, the politicians will flock to support the gynarchy but one or two will speak up and then phase three can begin. 

—

Prison ZA-187 - Canadian rockies

It didn’t take long for Alexis to put together the pattern between attacks. If she connected the sites of the explosions and used the time of the attacks as a basis point, she could see a pattern emerging suggesting that the attacks all originated from a single point that was moving at incredible speed. The talking heads on the TV suggested some sort of nuclear attack but other reports said that there was no trace of radioactive fallout or traces of explosives. They suggested planes using some sort of new ray gun attacks but Alexis simply laughed. 

She knew what it was, after all, she was one of its designers from before she joined Michelle at the Estate.

Back then she worked for the US government on a project involving tungsten rods that could be launched from an orbiting satellite. Once launched they’d travel to their target, reaching their terminal velocity along the way before impacting with the force of approximately 11.5 tons of TNT (or 7.2 tons of dynamite).

If she remembered correctly, they were able to store fifteen tungsten rods in the magazine. They tested the satellite twice and so far there had been eleven attacks which meant there were potentially still two rods left in orbit.

At that moment the entire building began to shake. Huge clouds of dust filled the air along with the sound of a deafening explosion. 

—

Steps in front of Capitol Hill, Washington, USA

“The world has been rocked by the events of the last month. Both myself and the Canadian governor have extended our condolences to the victims in the eleven cities around the world. This act of supposed terrorism has raised some serious questions about the Gynarchy and its plans for the world.”

“It’s no secret that both myself and the rest of the US government at one stage welcomed and soon became part of the Gynarchy. We were received with open arms and the promise of a better world for all to live in. One free of war and terrorism.”

“And yet here we stand today. Victims of these most heinous crimes.”

“In the last week, a few spoke up and questioned our once firm position as unwavering members. These brave souls who spoke their mind, not just here but around the world, have either been found murdered, the victim of apparent suicide or have simply vanished ”

“We have asked for clarification. We have asked for reasons. We have asked for justice. We have received nothing but static.”

“That is why today both myself, the Governor of the United States and the Governor of Canada are travelling to the Gynarchy headquarters here in North America to meet with the North American leader of the Gynarchy to demand answers, explain that we have no faith in the Gynarchy and we shall be leaving the Gynarchy effective immediately.”

“Thank you.”

—

Von Dutch Estate

No sooner had Christina’s helicopter set down on the grounds of the Von Dutch estate armoured commandos began spilling out and moving towards the main building. Christina and Jennifer were not far behind with Christina’s mind racing through the possibilities. 

Who the hell organised this? Who did the governors think they were meeting? Did they think it was her? If this was part of Michelle’s plan perhaps she’d be here in Christina’s office. Christina had been half a world away trying unsuccessfully to hunt down Michelle. But if Michelle was here then Christina was chasing ghosts in Europe all this time.  With the roads leading back here, there was no doubt in her mind that Michelle was the culprit behind these attacks. But what was her endgame? 

On the way to the building, Christina had noted the motorcade that was no doubt used by the Governers to travel to the estate and yet there was no sign of any secret service or even the staff of the estate itself. Things got even stranger as they made their way into the building. She could hear the team shouting “clear” as they conducted their sweep through room after room and coming up empty. 

As the stacked up on opposite sides of the double doors leading into the main office, Christina had chills seeing Jennifer standing opposite completely focused on the task at hand. It gave her a feeling of confidence that no matter what happened, everything would be ok. 

With a hand gesture, Jennifer motioned to move inside in three… two… 

Before she could fully extend her one remaining finger shots emerged from the office turning the door into nothing more than swiss cheese. At least four commandos dropped to the floor injured before being hauled away by their comrades to tend to the bullet wounds. Jennifer and Christina were hesitant to just fire blindly into the room not knowing if there were hostages inside. 

With an eventual stop in the gunfire, they both looked at each other. They knew it was an opportunity to breach into the room. Observing they were the only two left uninjured who were not tending to the wounded, they nodded before putting boot to door and knocking it down. 

Braced for gunfire heading their way and alert to take out any active shooter in the room, they were beyond shocked to see the room devoid of movement. In fact, there were no sounds whatsoever bar their shoes on the floor as they cleared the area. 

As they approached the desk, they could see two people slouched in the chairs in front of the desk. Christina recognised them both instantly as the US and Canadian Governors. They felt the bodies for a pulse but both were dead from gunshot wounds at close proximity. This was the last thing they needed. It would only further destabilise the region and ignite tensions. 

The silence was pierced suddenly by muffled sounds outside the room. Christina looked to  Jennifer. They both heard it: a silenced weapon. 

—

Jennifer turned from Christina to the door. The sound came from just outside the room and where the commandos were dealing with the wounded. They both ran towards the door cautiously peek around it to check for any sign of the shooter.

Jennifer stumbled slightly as she came to the door extending her arm, bracing herself against the frame. She felt a strange pain in her head like a headache that instantly took hold. Shaking her head she looked around the door at the remainder of their strike team lying outside the door. They were all still and lifeless. Christina was kneeling beside one of the commandos searching in vain for a pulse. She looked up towards Jennifer shaking her head before checking the next body.

Suddenly, Christina’s head darted up like a cat who had heard a far off noise. Jennifer closed her eyes to try and focus on listening and in the distance, she could hear the sound of their helicopter spinning up its rotors. Not so much running as quickly stumbling forwards, Jennifer chased after Christina who had darted to the main entrance. 

As she made her way to the door, she could hear Christina yell out ‘Freeze!’ and a second later a gunshot.

As she leaned against the door, the figure came into focus. They stopped walking towards the helicopter, stop and turn towards Christina. Jennifer’s headache subsided as she stepped out of the main doorway following Christina with her weapon raised.

—-

Christina’s blood was boiling. Did she mean to fire a shot? Maybe. Michelle wasn’t stopping when she had shouted at her. But then again her hands were physically shaking and despite her desire to kill Michelle, she was glad it missed. There was no room for mistakes. This time Michelle was going to a very very dark cell and Christina was going to make sure of it. After all standing in front of her was Michelle Von Dutch who not so long ago Christina was sure was locked away on her wall. 

She took a deep calming breath. ‘No room for mistakes,’ she reminded herself. 

Christina stood weapon aimed at Michelle and surveyed the area. Beyond Michelle, and just outside the helicopter, was the body of the pilot who flew them to the estate not an hour ago. Manning the helicopter instead was another familiar face she thought was locked away. She didn’t know when Alexis had broken out of prison but no doubt it was Michelle’s doing. Alexis for her part, however, took no notice of Christina. She was busy preparing the helicopter and as far as she was concerned, they were still leaving any minute.

Christina edged forwards to Michelle keeping her gun fixed on her. She motioned for her to get on her knees knowing that the helicopter would drown out any attempt to give verbal instructions. 

Michelle stood there defiant as ever and shook her head: no.

Christina felt a pistol pressed into her back. She had been flanked. But by who?

A hand came forwards from behind her and took hold of her weapon. She recognised the hand and the arm but didn’t believe it until Jennifer stepped around in front of her. Jennifer looked different. Her skin was pale, her eyes as black as the shiny latex she wore. Keeping her weapon trained on Christina, she walked backwards towards the helicopter and Michelle.

Christina could only watch in confusion as Michelle took one of the weapons from Jennifer and stepped around in front of Jennifer.

Jennifer kept her eye contact (and the gun pointed at Christina) as Michelle placed her lips on Jennifer’s giving her a deep and passionate kiss.

Christina couldn’t believe it. Why would Jennifer do something like this? She must be under Michelle’s control somehow. Michelle turned around giving Christina the purest of evil and gloating glares before taking Jennifer’s hand and leading her onto the helicopter. 

Christina stood there, boiling in her fury as the helicopter left the ground and ascended into the sky and out of her reach.

—

Chateau Latex, Paris, France 

Christina had a bad feeling about this whole event. A meeting of all the leaders of the Gynarchy along with the Baroness was a mistake in her view as long as Michelle and Jennifer were at large. What’s more, the media had found out about it and was now circling like vultures looking for any tiny scoop they could gleam. 

Christina was completing what must have been at least her fiftieth sweep of the perimeter when she found some of the guards huddled around a monitor watching the GYNews channel:

“Gynarchy leaders and regional governors from around the world are meeting today in an extraordinary conference just outside Paris. Having witnessed the brutal murder of the Canadian and US Governors by Gynarchy soldiers live-streamed across the world, many will be coming looking for answers not to mention with a level of heightened security.”

Christina began to feel her temper rising.

“Don’t you all have jobs to be doing?” she demanded as the soldiers realised she was behind them and they scurried to return to their posts.

The news broadcast had Christina’s stomach doing backflips. It was understandable that they were looking for answers after the recent events. But the fact that many of the signatories were considering breaking up the Gynarchy or even replacing the Baroness as the leader made her uneasy. Was their peace so fragile that it could be destroyed by Michelle? Christina shuddered at the thought and returned her thoughts to her work. This was too tempting a target for them to pass up on. 

She had made numerous sweeps of the building but there was a constant stream of dignitaries in either cars or helicopters arriving at the chateau on the outskirts of Paris. Christina was happy and worried each time checks came in ‘all clear’.

Something was not right. Her gut told her so.

—

Michelle had watched the news intently since her escape from North America. She was pleased and somewhat surprised that it had gone as well as it had. She hadn’t anticipated Christina being out of the country or when she found out that Christina was that she would then make it back in time to attempt to intercept her. Nor did she anticipate that her wild card, a nanobot controlled Jennifer would actually aid her escape. It was a welcome adjustment to the plan.

Oh and that look on her face after she had kissed Jennifer. Well, that just made her year. 

She glanced at the progress bar on the computer and then across the tiny room at Jennifer standing motionless. Soon it would be complete. 

One last play.

—

Christina took a pitstop in the control room to have an energy drink and began to stare at the monitors. It was the first time in about eight hours that she had got to sit down. 

Right now all the dignitaries were in the main hall being addressed by the Baroness herself. The doors were sealed and while normally Christina would love to be ‘a fly on the wall’, today she needed to be on the lookout for anything and everything that was out of place. 

For example, in the corner of her eye, she could see that helipad four was not vacant as it should have been. The Australian Ambassador’s helicopter was still idling on the pad.

“Why is pad four not clear?” she asked to the room.

“They’re having a problem with their tail rotor, ma’am,” a security agent to her left said. “An engineering crew is on their way up.”

Something about it didn’t sit right with her. 

“Tell them I’ll be right up,” she announced standing up and screwing the top on her drink.

—

Jennifer held her rifle close to her breast, her back against the door. She was keeping guard, listening out for any disturbance as her Mistress activated the internal cameras and beginning her live stream.

She had one job and one job only: To protect her Mistress. 

It was the only thing she could think about. 

Michelle closed her laptop and stood.

“Time to go, drone.”

Jennifer nodded. She turned the doorknob and peeked outside. The way was clear so she beckoned on her Mistress.

—

Christina could see the two engineers that were working on the tail rotor packing up their toolboxes and walking towards her as she reached the roof. She saw them give the pilot a thumbs up to which the pilot reciprocated before spinning up rotors and taking the helicopter to hover on the pad. 

The pilot must have been confident with the state of the fix as a moment later it took to the air and made its way away from the chateau.

“Commander? Come in please,” a voice came over her radio.

“Go ahead.”

“We’re detecting a large power surge in the auxiliary comms room and it appears as though someone is trying to breach our security measures and broadcast from inside the building.”

“I’m on my way!”

This was it, Christina thought as she made her way back inside. This has to be their move. They’ll try to stream the conference to the world and put their own twist on it.  But why a power surge? That seemed sloppy for Michelle. Unless it was for something else.

Placing her hand on the door handle, she could still hear the sound of a helicopter. 

“Control, is there another heli up here waiting to go?”

“No, ma’am. It’s all clear up there. Why do you ask?”

Christina tuned out the radio, looked around, saw that there was another helicopter on pad three with two people walking towards it. She would recognise that gait anywhere as Michelle and Jennifer and they were heading to the helicopter.

She began to run across the rooftop, pulling her weapon out of its holster. Again, she found herself pointing her gun towards Michelle but this time with Jennifer in the way.

Jennifer must have heard or seen something because she turned around and instantly had her weapons pointed at Christina. 

Christina heard the shot and then felt the bullet passing through her shoulder. 

“FUCK!” she yelled in pain as she fell behind the air conditioning unit to her left. 

Blood was now pouring down her left side from the open wound as she gathered her composure and poked her head around the corner. She got a glimpse for a second of Jennifer on one knee, head tilted over the gun, one eye closed, the other aiming down her rifle at her location. A second later a hail of bullets forced her back around the corner. 

She fired a few blind shots around the corner in Jennifer’s general direction before moving in the opposite direction.  

Christina ducked from cover to cover, exchanging fire with Jennifer trying to get a position where she could take a shot at the helicopter. She hoped that maybe she could prevent it from taking off and Michelle getting away. But Jennifer was on to her. For every move Christina made, Jennifer countered either by moving or firing a few shots that prevented her from moving or both. 

In the background, Christina could hear the sound of the helicopter changing. It was getting ready for take-off with the engines sound modulating from idle to attempting to get some lift. 

It as now or never as Christina looked down to see she was on her last magazine. Gathering herself as a do or die moment, she emerged from cover and took aim at the helicopter as its wheels gently left the landing pad. 

She got about three or four shots towards the chopper before Jennifer emerged from her side and tackled her to the ground. The two struggled on the ground, holding the weapon firmly between them, firing it several times more with the bullets hitting either brick or metal. 

Christina was worried about hurting Jennifer but seeing her not hold back and even press her hand onto Christina’s open wound spurred Christina on to fight for control of the weapon and possibly her life. Two more shots rang out this time somewhat muffled and Jennifer’s grip on Christina loosened considerably as she fell back.

Christina jumped to her feet and raced over towards the helipad, where the helicopter was once again back resting on it, with its engine coming to a stop. As she approached the helicopter cautiously, she could see bullet holes in the rear section, the open passenger door and another bullet hole in the glass of the pilot’s cabin. She peered inside the passenger compartment but it was empty and then circled around to the pilot’s seat where an unconscious but still alive Alexis sat. Looking around she could see no sign of Michelle. Then she remembered her struggle and raced back to Jennifer. 

She came to a sliding halt in front of Jennifer and knelt down on the ground beside her.  The wound was bad and despite putting pressure on it she could feel Jennifer slipping away from her. She looked into Jennifer’s completely black eyes.

“Why did you do it? Why would you?” Christina sobbed as Jennifer looked up with a smile on her face.

“I love her. She is my Mistress.”

With that Jennifer’s head rolled back and her completely black eyes returned to their usual black, white and grey.

Several members of the security detail approached sweeping the area. 

“Are you ok Ma’am?” one of the commandos asked, pointing towards her shoulder wound.

“Michelle was up here,” she replied anger clear in her voice, “Find her!”

“Yes Ma’am,” the commando replied before pointing at various guards. “You! Look over there!” she said pointing at one of the other commandos before turning to another, “You! Look over there!” 

It was no use and she knew it. Michelle would be gone by now. 

A voice came out over the radio. 

“Commander! We were able to shut down the signal. Near as we can tell it was a beacon for the orbital platform to lock on to so they could launch another kinetic missile. But we’ve shut it down. We should be safe for now.”

Christina didn’t respond. 

She didn’t care. 

She simply sat there with Jennifer in her arms.

—

GYNews 8PM News

“In extraordinary scenes today, Baroness Vanessa Kensington addressed a summit of Gynarchy leaders. The Baroness shared declassified materials which showed that a rogue group of terrorists orchestrated the entire plot against the Gynarchy and its people. Former American businesswoman turned terrorist, Michelle Von Dutch was responsible for the devastation that brought the world to its knees.“

“The evidence did persuade the counties to hold off any decisions but the long-lasting consequences of recent events won’t be felt for many months or even years to come.“

“The summit also had a few issues of its own when it came to security. Sources close to the delegates tell GYNews that Von Dutch and an, as yet, unnamed co-conspirator attempted to launch another kinetic weapon against the conference to wipe out all the remaining leaders. The co-conspirator was pronounced dead at the scene but Von Dutch escaped.”

“Gynarchy forces also assures us that they have destroyed the orbital weapons platform to prevent it from being used again.“

“With the death toll now approaching half a million people, a worldwide hunt for Von Dutch is still underway which begs the question: Will Von Dutch be captured before she can strike again?”

“For GYNews, I’m Alicia Shrewbury.”

—

And so ends the final part of the trilogy. 

As always some unanswered questions:

• Where is Michelle now? 
• How long can the fragile peace continue with Michelle at large?
• Is Complex 8 truly gone? Was the memory wipe they took permanent or simply a ploy to protect themselves and return to a state of deeper anonymity?
• What happened to Alexis? Did she escape or is she back putting latex dresses on dolls?
  

I know I have my theories on them but am interested to know what others think. 

Two years ago - Von Dutch Estate, USA 

Michelle had been very particular when choosing her office. The view from it was quite simply: stunning. She could see the stiff snow-covered peaks of the nearby mountains leading down to the dense forest (currently showing their autumnal colours) and then the twisting river that ran alongside most of the western border of her property.

The events of the past few days had been a gamble to say the least. She knew there would be consequences if she failed. What they were, she didn’t know yet but no doubt the answer, good or bad, would be coming through the door at any moment. 

As if on cue, the doors behind her opened and in marched her visitor as her maids scurried out. Jennifer something or other. One of the lackeys of the Gynarchy. 

“Michelle Von Dutch,” Jennifer said with a tone indicating the final result of the power play, “Time we had a little chat.”

Michelle took one last look out the window and bowed her head in resignation. 

Michelle turned to see the commando standing with her team pointing their weapons at her like she was some evil mastermind just caught trying to blow up the world. She smiled, looked to the side thinking and chuckled a little. Well maybe a bit of world domination. Would it have been so bad?

She placed her hand on the back of the large tan leather chair behind her desk and pulled it out. 

“So what happens now?” she asked cooly stepping around between it and the desk. 

“Get on your knees and put your hands behind your head.”

“I had great plans,” Michelle continued as she ignored Jennifer’s order and instead sat down on her chair. “There could have even been a place for you as my little pet. Or maybe if that backstabbing bitch had kept her place, you could have been her pet.”

Michelle found herself getting strangely aggravated at Christina’s betrayal. Did she not give her enough attention? Why would she do something like this? The reason wasn’t that far away standing at the opposite side of the room.

Michelle looked up from her chair, eyes like daggers aimed straight at Jennifer. 

“I will have my revenge.”

“Yeah,” Jennifer replied laying the sarcasm on extremely thickly, “Sure you will.”

Jennifer lowered her rifle which swung down around behind her back as she reached to her thigh and took out her sidearm. Aiming the pistol at Michelle’s chest, the agent squeezed the trigger and released the tranquiliser dart. 

As it found its mark, and unseen to Jennifer, Michelle had just pressed a small practically invisible button on the base of her desk. Feeling her eyes growing heavy she found some solace that whatever came in the short term, her contingency plan was going into effect.

—

Seven days ago - Former Von Dutch Estate, North Amercian Gynarchy Headquarters 

It was a quiet day or rather as close to quiet as Christina could get when you’re running a small corner of a massive international empire. But it most certainly was a welcome change to her usual back to back travel. Paperwork waits for no one and despite the progress the Gynarchy has made, eliminating paperwork was not one of them. 

Christina had made quite the mark on the world in the last two years bringing many into the light of the Gynarchy and unfortunately some of that required new documents to be drawn up and meetings to be scheduled. It was a full time job but one she was only too happy to do. Except for the paperwork. She needed a new secretary to do all her paperwork but for now she’d settle for a break. Her eyes wandered across the room to the clock. 

‘Eleven-thirty. Perfect. Time for a break,’ Christina thought after all she had been going non stop since about eight a.m. Once she found a rhythm, it was hard to distract her. 

Picking up her glass of orange juice and the last crumbs of her breakfast, she wandered over to the bookcase and picked up one of her favourite books: Alice in Wonderland. She had promised to set aside more ‘me’ time and what better way than one about falling down a rabbit hole. Her own adventure down a ‘rabbit hole’ was certainly book worthy and one she wouldn’t change a bit. 

Walking over to the couch, she kicked off her boots and put her feet up before losing herself in the book. One chapter turned into two and she promised herself after the third she’d stop and get back to work.

As the clock rang out for twelve, she replaced her bookmark, rose and returned the book to its empty space on the shelf. From the unit beside the bookshelf, she could hear the gentle hum of the vibrators. Like the clock tolling out, they too were on a tight schedule. She enjoyed the reminder that her former employer, now her prisoner, was still in arms reach being lovingly brought to the brink before being denied.. 

As she reached up and ran her finger down the rubber prison holding Michelle in place, the body inside reacted ever so slightly to her touch. It never failed to make her smile but something was off. She ran her finger down the prisoners right leg and specifically her tibia. When Michelle was in college playing volleyball she fell awkwardly and chipped it. Michelle always laughed it off as a war wound but when it came to winter she wasn’t afraid to use this minor chip to her advantage. It was a small bump no bigger than the smallest pea but this person, this prisoner, this Michelle had no such bump. 

Recoiling, she ran across the room to the sofa and withdrew the knife she kept in her right boot. Turning and racing back to the upright vacuum bed, she stabbed the blade into the left perimeter and sliced downwards breaking the seal, releasing the prisoner who had been trapped for over a year. Christina took a step back as the person who was supposedly Michelle Von Dutch collapsed on the floor covered in a thick layer of what was best described as goo and hooked up to any number of wires and pads designed to keep her alive, relatively healthy and not to mention ‘stimulated’.

“Who the hell are you?” Christina asked taking a firm grasp of the prisoners slippy neck and placing the tip of her blade right beneath their chin. 

They had better speak quickly and better have a good explanation. 

“Where is Michelle Von Dutch?”

Two years ago - Complex 8 Black Site, Location Classified

Michelle had drifted in and out of consciousness as they transported her around the world to what she assumed was some Gynarchy prison. No doubt some beastly thing where they’d feed her a grey gloop for her breakfast, mid morning snack, lunch, dinner and evening meal. She shuddered at the thought of having to share her bedroom with someone else.

When they did eventually arrive at the destination and removed her from the van, she could see blue sky overhead before entering some sort of building. They made their way through a number of corridors through a few secure doors before entering a lift and while she wasn’t sure what it was, something told her they were going underground. Deep underground. 

She could hear the two soldiers talking about her and how they were going to turn her into a proper little boy with a little soldier of ‘his’ own to boot. The thought horrified her and she could feel tears welling in her eyes as they wheeled her trolley out of the lift, down a corridor and into a small room. 

The fluorescent tube light flickered as it came on revealing a grungy and definitely unsanitary room. They untied her from the metal slab, slotted their hands under her armpits and lifted her to the floor. She heard the click of a restraint locking on her ankle before the two guards walked over and out through the door.

“See you soon, little Mickey,” the girls laughed as they flicked the light off, closed the door and secured the bolt on the far side leaving her in the dark, a heavy metal chain attaching her ankle to the centre of the room. There she waited in the cold dark cell, robbed of all her expensive clothes and reduced to a size too big orange latex jumpsuit with straight jacket like arms that kept them restrained behind her back. Much as she loved latex, it was a terrible insulator against the cold concrete floor. 

A day, maybe two, later before she saw someone and even then all they did was move her from the tiny room to some sort of lab. There she was stripped, placed on another metal table and all sorts of pads and wires were attached to her. They even forced some tubes up her nose, into her mouth and other parts she’d rather they didn’t. The technician doing the inserting leaned across, checked a few wires then moved out of sight.

“Enjoy your last glimpse of light,” they said as a sheet of latex was lowered from the ceiling above her. As it descended and began to touch her lightly it stopped and she wondered what she meant as there was still light coming in from the sides. Then the suction began and she felt it become vacuum sealed around her. 

“I’ll be back in the morning,” she heard the technician their voice muffled as the vacuum pumps wound down, their jobs complete and the tight seal formed holding her perfectly in place unable to move even the slightest. 

“I’ll just leave this here for the night,” she said as Michelle felt something pushed up between her legs.  “Enjoy it. It’s the last one you’ll get as a woman.”

What became apparent as a vibrator instantly started to work and Michelle didn’t hear the clack for the technician’s boots as she left for the night.

Michelle counted seven before she gave up and stopped counting. She was on the cusp of another when the vibrator suddenly stopped and the latex sheet separate and move back towards the ceiling. They couldn’t have just let her finish that one last wave?

As she turned her head though she was not greeted by the technician but rather three men wearing very greasy overalls. 

“G’day Shelly,” greeted the closest one with a wide fractured grin on his face. “We’ll be the ole rescue party t’day.”

Seven days ago - Abandoned Tube Station, London

Michelle had hoped that she would meet Jennifer again. Since escaping the clutches of the Gynarchy, the woman who destroyed her life was one of the names on a short list she wished to meet again. How fortuitous that the agent appeared in London. It felt somewhat like Christmas. In the middle of the summer. 

She watched Jennifer’s reaction as she entered the room. Jennifer had tried to hide her shock but Michelle could see it. It was delightful. 

She wanted to give the agent a good thrashing. That’s the way the Brits would describe it? Maybe. She wasn’t sure. No doubt some of them would think of it more as some girl on girl action. She rolled her eyes at the thought. It had been a long time since she had seen a new face but still. 

It was two years since her ordeal had begun, since they had got her signal, tracked her to a facility just outside of Maidstone and broke her out. They even found some other woman with a similar height and build that they pushed into the latex prison to take her place. What happened to the woman Michelle didn’t know. Michelle being Michelle had never given that poor woman even a seconds thought.

She didn’t know that while Michelle had been moving from safehouse to safehouse, the woman adorned a wall in her former office experiencing all sorts of torment. 

Having roughed it (something Michelle wanted to end very soon) she liked to think she had a good understanding of her compatriots and their goals. They were pretty similar to hers: the downfall of the Gynarchy.

One day.

The key to that day however was now sat in front of her.

——

While Michelle was pleased to see Jennifer, Jennifer was not. The idea of waking up restrained to see Michelle von Dutch standing before her in a grimy unused tube station in the heart of London was quite frankly a nightmare. She was prepared for disenfranchised alpha male. Not a crazy ex dominatrix who tried to take over the gynarchy.  

She tried to sit up in the chair, retain some sense of not being afraid but in truth Jennifer didn’t know what was going to happen and part of her was very afraid of what Michelle might do.

“Hello again Jennifer,” Michelle started. “I see you’ve made it to another one of my homes.”

Michelle began to circle her, running her fingers up her arm, over her shoulders behind her neck and back down the other shoulder. 

“I’ve had quite the journey around the English countryside since we last met. Pity it was mostly at night but I like to imagine the sights and sounds as I go.”

Michelle returned to stand in front of Jennifer before crouching down to look her straight in the eyes before she closed her own and made a fake sad face.

“I even try to imagine the cries and celebrations once the Gynarchy decides to implode.”

She pauses, licking her lips and regained her composure from the fake tear she shed.

“It will be quite the day,” opening her eyes, smiling, standing and walking away. “I can’t wait for you to help us.”

Michelle clicked her fingers and Jennifer felt something cold pressed against the back of her neck followed by a burst of air. Suddenly, she found it hard to concentrate. Heck, even keeping her eyes open was proving difficult. She scrunched them closed and then opened them as wide as she could trying to bring the room into focus.

Standing in front of her… she tried to squint… was that the Director? What was she doing her? The director walked closer. Why was she… is she dressed in red? Michelle was here a minute ago. She was dressed in red latex too. She tried to tell the director.

‘You need to follow her. She’ll get away.’ 

But it was no use. The gag in her mouth stopped her. 

The director bent over beside her and started to whisper in her ear. It was really weird. Jennifer could hear the words but they didn’t make sense but at the same time they did. She felt so tired. 

‘Director’ she mumbled before passing out.

——

When Jennifer woke up it was to some very loud, very sharp bangs. As she raised her head there standing in front of her was a tactical looking commando with not very functional but definitely stylish body armour. Christina was here in London. 

Another commando came running into the room. 

“They’’re all gone Ma’am.”

“We’ve got who we came for. Scour the place for clues. They can’t be gone long”

Christina knelt down in front of the still gagged Jennifer.

“Don’t worry you’ll be ok.”

She cupped Jennifer’s face and gave her a small kiss before calling for a medic to take a look at the drowsy Jennifer.

In Jennifer’s ear she could hear a voice. 

The Director’s voice.

“You know what you need to do. Carry out my plan and then you can have your fun.”

Jennifer’s drowsiness changed to rage. She knew what she had to do. Mumbling to herself she confirmed.

‘Yes, Director Von Dutch.’

Part 3 coming soon ™

Pick a covert ops or intelligence agency. One who’s operations are suppose to remain a secret. I bet you can name a few.

Like most nation states, the Gynarchy had an intelligence agency. But their agency was so secret that only a handful outside of those who worked for it knew it even existed. I’d even hazard a guess that a lot of people who worked for it may not have even know who they were working for. But I digress.

That was until around two years ago when Complex 8, the ultra secretive intelligence agency, disappeared from the face of the earth. Memories of all who worked there or had any knowledge of it had been wiped save for three people. The only three people in the entire world knew why C8 disappeared. The Baroness, Director of Complex 8 Abigail Beeson and the former Assistant Director for North American operations, Jennifer Tyner.

Eight days after disappearing, Director Beeson was found by Gynarchy forces in a warehouse outside of London. Like other former employees her memory had been wiped but all signs point towards it being a self-inflicted wipe and only moments before she was found.

The whereabouts of the Assistant Director Tyner remains a mystery…

Seven days ago - Unknown location

Jennifer woke in a bit of a daze. Her head was ringing and it took her a moment to find her bearings. The chair she found herself in wasn’t totally uncomfortable but the restraints holding her in place were another matter. Not to mention the large gag both over and within her mouth. She scanned the area. To her right stood a man wielding an automatic rifle. To her left another man but like her, he too was tied to a chair. He wasn’t gaged though. Instead, he sat there with a stupid grin on his face staring at her. 

This wasn’t good. Most of the time she didn’t mind waking up being restrained. But this wasn’t one of those times and she needed to get out of there. She began looking around more. Where was she? Where were the possible exits? Judging by the beige tiles with red and white stripes, she surmised that she was in an old unused tube station of the London underground. How interesting that she would find herself back where it all began.

She’d been working off the grid for the past two years ever since that evening she was recalled back to London for a meeting in the director’s office. 

Two years ago -  Complex 8 Headquarters, London

Director Abigail Beeson - Director of Complex 8

Usually when you’re summoned suddenly to your bosses office in the middle of the night it’s a sure bet this shit is about to hit the fan. The question was: how bad was it going to be. It was a cold morning not that it mattered only that Jennifer enjoyed the cold. It gave her an excuse to toss on a few extra layers. Layers that made hiding body armour easier. Dressed in her usual catsuit, torso corset armour, and heavy boots she appreciated the way her trench coat over everything caught the wind slightly as she walked. It made her feel powerful. 

As she entered the building she passed others wrapping up as they braved the start of a looming snow storm. She took the usual elevator to the top floor and the directors office.

Jennifer was always a little suspicious of and uneasy around Director Beeson’s secretary who at this moment sat with a worried look on her face. Jane Harmon previously was a person with quite a history with and grudge against the director. And yet here he, correction she now sat. What must be going on in her head. Jennifer’s hand instinctively rested on her sidearm as she informed the secretary that she was here at the directors request. 

Jane nodded as she rose from her chair, gently knocked on the directors door, peeked inside before standing aside and signalling Jennifer to enter.

The director was in her usual pensive stance gazing out the window as the snow storm raged outside. 

“Thank you for coming at such short notice Jennifer,” she began, ‘we have a situation developing and we’re going to need your skills.”

Over the next hour the director outlined all the intelligence she had gathered in the past several weeks. She was told of a plot from outside and within to bring about the destruction of the Gynarchy. The intel wasn’t complete. Far from it. But it couldn’t wait any longer. Action was required. 

Obviously Jennifer was ready for any mission the Director had to counteract this devious plot but this was a dangerous and potentially long mission to uncover every lead all while remaining covert on an intelligence side and business as normal within the Gynarchy. She was ready to depart on her mission when the Baroness herself stepped out of the shadows. 

“For this to work Complex 8 needs to disappear. We can’t risk them turning our own intelligence against us,” the Baroness said with her usual directness. “Get it done Ms Tyner.”

With a small nod to the Baroness and Director, Jennifer set out on her mission: Find the disruptors and eliminate them.

Eight days ago - Knightsbridge, London

Perched atop a roof, leaning against a chimney stack on the outskirts of London, Jennifer cursed the humid weather which made concealment more difficult. Lying in wait for something often meant hours of waiting around and the damn camo suits were made out of rubber. Clearly they didn’t think of a heat wave when they imagined the user’s comfort.

Jennifer Tyner wearing the Complex 8 Camouflage with the ability to become 99% invisible.

So far her mission had its ups and its downs. She infiltrated some cells quite easily and others took more convincing however after the third cells ‘disassembly’ she began to pick up on a pattern. While they all operated independently there was a nuance of organisation behind the randomness. As she began to probe deeper, she found the pattern she was looking for. A multi layered operation above each of the cells pulling strings and as soon she found out they were cells within cells within cells. A complicated network that led her back to London. 

She was close. She could smell it. 

And yet here she was now waiting for over a week for signs of life from a small studio apartment. To say she was growing impatient was putting it mildly. She wanted the mission complete. Lucky for her, tonight would be her night. 

As the time approached 1am a shortish figure approached the doorway. As they inserted the key into the door and began to turn it she made her move. 

Emerging from the rooftop shadows she dropped three stories and landed as lightly as a leaf on a still lake. Crossing the street in three maybe four steps she placed her hand around his mouth and pressing her weapon into his waist with her other.

“Easy now,” she said taking a quick glance around to see if anyone had noticed her. Nope. All clear. “Inside. Now!”

Entered Jennifer scanned the room noting no other exits and one table with four chairs. As beeping emanated from an alarm panel on the wall, she pushed her captive towards it and waved her gun so much as to say ‘turn it off’. The man somewhat dazed by the suddenness of the situation slowly moved over, entered a code and the beeping ceased. 

Jennifer pulled a chair out from behind the table and sat the gun still trained on the man. With her boot she pushed out another chair, waved the gun towards it and he slowly sat. 

“You got a name?” She asked. 

“Dave.”

“How long before you’re friends join us Dave?”

“They’re not coming. I turned the alarm off,” he said motioning towards the alarm.

“Bullshit,” Jennifer muttered extending her arm and aiming her gun right at his head. 

“Ok ok.” He relented clearly not wanting to die. “Thirty minutes” he continued with an air of confidence and perhaps pride. 

Jennifer smirked. Their response wouldn’t be that close by. Probably further out of the city or somewhere central. Either way it would probably be faster than thirty minutes. Maybe if it was the middle of the day but this time of night it would be more like fifteen maybe twenty if they were sleeping and weren’t perfectly ready for a late night call out. 

“Life on the line and you’re still loyal? That’s fine,” she nodded her slight approval. “This is a nice little place. I say little because this can’t be more than a meeting point. There isn’t enough security for it to be a safe house and it isn’t big enough to be a base. So as we’re pushed for time, we’re not really going to get to know each other. I want a location or names of your contacts. I’d prefer both but I’ll settle for on or the other.” 

“I don’t know any names and even..” he began his response rehearsed before Jennifer cut him off

“And even if I did I wouldn’t tell you,” she said mockingly. God she was sick of hearing that same trope over and over again. She didn’t have time for this. 

Clicking a switch on the side of her gun she lowered it from aiming at his head and instead took aim at his chest. Squeezing the trigger a small bright yellow ball of light emerged from her gun and slowly crossed the room connecting with his chest. 

His eyes firmly closed as he gripped the arms of the chair bracing against a bullet but there wasn’t any. He looked down and back up wondering what had happened. There was no hole in his shirt, no bullet entrance not even a drop of blood. 

Jennifer watched him closely as she saw her ‘shot’ begin to take effect. Normally the energy slowly converted the target into an adoring servant who would do anything she asked or answer all of her questions. But that takes hours and she needed answers quickly so she gave him four times the dose. This was a double edged sword. While it would begin to take effect faster it would also eventually turn him into a mindless drone willing to tell her pretty much anything she wanted to hear, truth or not. 

Jennifer crossed over to in front of him, grabbed his head with both her hands and looking into his eyes began again: “Where is your main base of operations? Who do you report to?”

“It’s under the ground,” his reply slow and laborious his eyes rolling into the back of his face, a wide smile on his face. 

Damn it’s acting too fast. “Where is your base?” she pressed him. 

“Choo choo,” he muttered as if getting high on the hormones as began their work and his small prick coming to attention. 

”Aww geez” Jennifer recoiled as she released him feeling quite frustrated and disturbed by his sudden erection. Everyone had different tolerances to the drug and obviously his was very low. She needed to think and fast. 

Why was he here? Was it a meet? Or a drop off? She began searching his pockets for anything. He wasn’t even carrying a phone. Jennifer began pacing as, in his delirium, Dave began telling her how pretty she was. ‘He’s not wrong but damn I need to concentrate. Something it off here.’ He continued, getting louder by the second. 

“Quiet!” she barked 

Dave went suspiciously quiet for a moment before saying: “its a trap you know?”

Jennifer’s eyes widened as she heard something like a faint hissing sound. It was then she also began to get a sweet taste in her mouth. 

“Shit!” she exclaimed tasting the aserolised tranquilliser. No wonder he went dopey quickly. He had a cocktail of drugs working through his system. He probably triggered it with the alarm hoping they’d both pass out before anything happened.

She made it to the door, grabbed the handle and pulled. Locked tight of course. She looked around. Perhaps there was another exit she missed but with each second she found herself getting more and more tired. Uttering ‘shit’ once more, she passed out in a heap on the floor. 

Seven days ago - Abandoned Tube Station, London

While they waited for what seemed like forever, the guard shouted at Dave to be quiet after he started to tell her she was ‘pretty’. All she could do was laugh to herself. Well the first few times at least. After what seemed like well over an hour she too wanted Dave to ‘shut up’.

Hearing noise in the corridor approaching them, Jennifer tried to sit up in the chair. In walked two men followed by a woman who she couldn’t quite make out.

It wasn’t the leader Jennifer was expecting but something about her walk seemed familiar. She squinted against the light before recoiling in horror. 

As she got closer Jennifer realised who she was and it wasn’t good. Former head of the Von Dutch Estate, Michelle Von Dutch.

“Hello again Jennifer. I see you’ve made it to another one of my homes.”

—–

It’s been awhile but I’m trying to get back into some writing and who knows. Might have a little fun along the way!

A

xx