Chapter Eight
Steed surveyed the remaining agents and gave an involuntary shudder. That girl with the bewitchingly light blue eyes was still part of the competition. Would she ever get out, or was he destined to have that immature trained agent instead of the competent amateur Emma?
As he deliberated over this matter, the sixth test began. "We are going to see how well you ladies pay attention to instructions!" Charles began to the throng of nervous women.
"Our men," Mother nodded to the guards, "are going to show you how to load a rifle. We want you to follow their methods *implicitly*! If you do one step slightly different from the way the guards did it, you will be removed from the contest!"
"Just as the test before taught you how you should never trust strangers, this test will show the importance of following instructions. In the real world of espionage, one slip, or one time of disobeying, could cost your life." Charles' ending filled the prospective partners with apprehension.
One by one, the female spies were led into a room where no sounds could be heard on the outside even if you were standing next to the door. Emma and Tara waited patiently for their turn as each spy exited the chamber dejectedly.
One lady whined, "I followed their instructions to the letter but I'm still out of the game!"
Another wailed, "It's a trick; nobody can pass this test!"
Tara gulped, Emma gritted her teeth, and they waited in their line.
Finally, a smiling woman exited the room. "I almost didn't make it," she declared as she passed the queue, "but I figured it out in the nick of time."
All at once it was Emma's turn. She stepped cautiously into the room, examining every face and item. A man stood in the centre, a rifle in his right hand and earmuffs in his left. Several targets were set up opposite the wall and door that Emma was standing by. She stepped up to the man and tried to smile nonchalantly.
"Good afternoon, ma'am," the man said pleasantly. "I'm going to show you how to load this rifle and fire it! I want you to do exactly what I do. If you want, I can repeat the procedure once."
Emma nodded her head in understanding. The fellow asked her for her name, and she promptly told him it was Ethel Huffy. The man seemed genuinely impressed by her name, evidently honoured at her presence, and even stood taller as he began the procedure.
He cleared his throat nervously then placed the earmuffs on his head. He loaded the weapon, pulled it close to his shoulder, and then fired at the targets three times. He lowered the rifle, pulled his earmuffs off, and said, "It's you're turn, Ms. Huffy."
Emma began to grow anxious. He had done everything as normally as can be, but most of the ladies who had been expelled had claimed that. There had to be a catch! "Could you repeat the process?" Emma whispered almost inaudibly.
"I wouldn't think you'd need me to repeat it, Ms. Huffy," he began condescendingly, "but if you insist. Ahem!" The man did the procedure over again, exactly the same as before. He stared at her expectantly, and everything seemed to be in slow motion.
Slowly, Emma went over the steps in her head. She did it twice, three times, but still she couldn't see any hidden tricks. It seemed a decade since she'd entered the room, and she sensed that the man was feeling the same way. Sighing in defeat, she reached for the gun, placing it in her right hand. The earmuffs she grabbed with her left hand.
Then, she mulled over the process again. Mrs. Peel had never been one for crying, but she was on the verge of tears. Here she was, supposedly an expert at counter-counter espionage, and she couldn't even follow the directions! The man had been amazed and uneasy when she had told him her name, thinking she was the paragon of all female spies. He was going to be disappointed, maybe even angered, when he discovered the truth.
She could still see him, clearing his throat edgily before placing the earmuffs on his head . . . Then it struck her like a bolt of lighting. He had cleared his throat both times before using the rifle! That was the catch!
Abruptly, Emma resumed her tranquil mien. She cleared her throat loudly, pulled the earmuffs over her head, and loaded the gun. It was simple to use the weapon, and the three bullets she fired embedded themselves neatly in three separate bullseyes. She lowered the rifle, smiling smugly. "Was that satisfactory, sir?"
The man nodded, dazed at her sudden change of manner.
Emma marched confidently out of the room, brushing by Mother and Charles. "She passed the test, confound her," Mother growled.
"And there's only two to go!" Charles added. They glared at the retreating figure of Emma Peel.
Emma and Tara both passed the most difficult test to date. However, seventeen did not, and only eighteen agents remained.
***********
Emma was relieved that the last ordeal was over, but she was afraid of what might be the next test. All through the afternoon, she kept a weary eye out for anything suspicious, but it seemed as if the tests were done for the day. She and the remaining agents suffered through a tense supper, and then Mrs. Peel decided to take a stroll outdoors in the twilight.
She breathed in the fresh air, remembering her life on the Peel farm. It was unfair that she could not visit the place ever again because of the crazed Trudy. If she stepped foot on the farm, Trudy was bound to kill her.
Emma would have continued her grousing if it hadn't been for the four men that stepped out of the shadows and surrounded her. When there was less than a foot of space between her and the men, it became quite evident that their purpose was to attack her.
Emma went into a fighting stance, daring each to make the first move. One man threw a fist out in an attempt to punch her, but Mrs. Emma grabbed the arm and flipped the fellow on his back. The second man grabbed her by the waist, while the third tried to choke her. The fourth man helped the first man to his feet.
Emma struggled to remain conscious as Number Three strangled her. She brought her knees up into Three's stomach then pushed her elbows into Number Two's chest. The elbow manoeuvre had little effect on Two, but the knees did injure Three. The third man let go of her neck to clutch his stomach. Number Two gripped her waist even tighter, and Emma realised she might never get out of his hold. Quickly, as if she was bowing, Emma bent forward at her waist. The swift movement caught her nemesis off guard and he toppled over her onto the ground. Emma did not want him to recover, so she kicked the man until he lost consciousness.
With one man down, she faced the rest of her opponents. The third man was still clutching his stomach in pain, so Emma directed her attention to him first. With Number One and Number Four trying to grab her, she flung herself at Number Three. She and the third man tumbled to the ground. She was about to raise her hand to strike when she noticed Number Three was not moving. He had hit his head on a rock, one of the disadvantages of fighting outdoors.
Emma turned to her last two adversaries, venom in her usually lovely eyes. She noted a tree branch hanging low over the grounds. She advanced towards it, and when the two men followed her, whipped the bough into their faces.
The first man had already been tossed to the ground and smacked in the face. He obviously was growing tired, but the fourth man was relatively undamaged. Emma decided to finish off Number One before defeating Number Four. Mrs. Peel lunged at the first man, who responded by knocking her off her feet. He then came at her, intent on physically abusing her. Emma calmly tripped him with her legs. He landed on his face, and Emma laid him out with one of her powerful Karate chops.
She was about to rise to her feet, when the fourth and final man clasped her legs in his brawny hands. He proceeded to drag her across the lawn, laughing sadistically as he went. Emma suppressed a moan as her entire backside rubbed against grass, dirt, and pebbles. Mrs. Peel forced herself to ignore the searing pain and concentrate on her opponent. She observed that he meant to drag her over a gnarled log! A sharp branch projected from the top. If she went over it, the wood might stick into her back. With all the strength she possessed, she grabbed on to a tuff of grass with both hands.
Her adversary was not expecting Emma to hold back and, consequently, lost his balance. He screamed as he fell onto the log, the sharp limb going through his stomach. Emma turned a squeamish eye away before standing.
She stumbled back to the mansion where she encountered Charles and Mother. They exchanged weary glances before announcing, "Fighting four men was the seventh test. You aced it."
Emma barely acknowledged them as she staggered upstairs. She did not even murmur her "hellos" to Miss King when she passed her in the hall. Emma was sick--sick of all the misery these ministry men were causing just to find a suitable partner for Steed.
She'd killed one of the men she had fought tonight, and she wondered how many more had died at the hands of the female spies. Emma needn't have worried, for only one other woman passed the test. And that woman had used unconventional, almost ridiculous means, thus not killing anyone. That woman was Tara King.
Neither woman realised there was only one more test left. Who would be the winner?
~*~To Be Continued~*~
Note: I survived my bout of writer's block. Hurray!
Steed surveyed the remaining agents and gave an involuntary shudder. That girl with the bewitchingly light blue eyes was still part of the competition. Would she ever get out, or was he destined to have that immature trained agent instead of the competent amateur Emma?
As he deliberated over this matter, the sixth test began. "We are going to see how well you ladies pay attention to instructions!" Charles began to the throng of nervous women.
"Our men," Mother nodded to the guards, "are going to show you how to load a rifle. We want you to follow their methods *implicitly*! If you do one step slightly different from the way the guards did it, you will be removed from the contest!"
"Just as the test before taught you how you should never trust strangers, this test will show the importance of following instructions. In the real world of espionage, one slip, or one time of disobeying, could cost your life." Charles' ending filled the prospective partners with apprehension.
One by one, the female spies were led into a room where no sounds could be heard on the outside even if you were standing next to the door. Emma and Tara waited patiently for their turn as each spy exited the chamber dejectedly.
One lady whined, "I followed their instructions to the letter but I'm still out of the game!"
Another wailed, "It's a trick; nobody can pass this test!"
Tara gulped, Emma gritted her teeth, and they waited in their line.
Finally, a smiling woman exited the room. "I almost didn't make it," she declared as she passed the queue, "but I figured it out in the nick of time."
All at once it was Emma's turn. She stepped cautiously into the room, examining every face and item. A man stood in the centre, a rifle in his right hand and earmuffs in his left. Several targets were set up opposite the wall and door that Emma was standing by. She stepped up to the man and tried to smile nonchalantly.
"Good afternoon, ma'am," the man said pleasantly. "I'm going to show you how to load this rifle and fire it! I want you to do exactly what I do. If you want, I can repeat the procedure once."
Emma nodded her head in understanding. The fellow asked her for her name, and she promptly told him it was Ethel Huffy. The man seemed genuinely impressed by her name, evidently honoured at her presence, and even stood taller as he began the procedure.
He cleared his throat nervously then placed the earmuffs on his head. He loaded the weapon, pulled it close to his shoulder, and then fired at the targets three times. He lowered the rifle, pulled his earmuffs off, and said, "It's you're turn, Ms. Huffy."
Emma began to grow anxious. He had done everything as normally as can be, but most of the ladies who had been expelled had claimed that. There had to be a catch! "Could you repeat the process?" Emma whispered almost inaudibly.
"I wouldn't think you'd need me to repeat it, Ms. Huffy," he began condescendingly, "but if you insist. Ahem!" The man did the procedure over again, exactly the same as before. He stared at her expectantly, and everything seemed to be in slow motion.
Slowly, Emma went over the steps in her head. She did it twice, three times, but still she couldn't see any hidden tricks. It seemed a decade since she'd entered the room, and she sensed that the man was feeling the same way. Sighing in defeat, she reached for the gun, placing it in her right hand. The earmuffs she grabbed with her left hand.
Then, she mulled over the process again. Mrs. Peel had never been one for crying, but she was on the verge of tears. Here she was, supposedly an expert at counter-counter espionage, and she couldn't even follow the directions! The man had been amazed and uneasy when she had told him her name, thinking she was the paragon of all female spies. He was going to be disappointed, maybe even angered, when he discovered the truth.
She could still see him, clearing his throat edgily before placing the earmuffs on his head . . . Then it struck her like a bolt of lighting. He had cleared his throat both times before using the rifle! That was the catch!
Abruptly, Emma resumed her tranquil mien. She cleared her throat loudly, pulled the earmuffs over her head, and loaded the gun. It was simple to use the weapon, and the three bullets she fired embedded themselves neatly in three separate bullseyes. She lowered the rifle, smiling smugly. "Was that satisfactory, sir?"
The man nodded, dazed at her sudden change of manner.
Emma marched confidently out of the room, brushing by Mother and Charles. "She passed the test, confound her," Mother growled.
"And there's only two to go!" Charles added. They glared at the retreating figure of Emma Peel.
Emma and Tara both passed the most difficult test to date. However, seventeen did not, and only eighteen agents remained.
***********
Emma was relieved that the last ordeal was over, but she was afraid of what might be the next test. All through the afternoon, she kept a weary eye out for anything suspicious, but it seemed as if the tests were done for the day. She and the remaining agents suffered through a tense supper, and then Mrs. Peel decided to take a stroll outdoors in the twilight.
She breathed in the fresh air, remembering her life on the Peel farm. It was unfair that she could not visit the place ever again because of the crazed Trudy. If she stepped foot on the farm, Trudy was bound to kill her.
Emma would have continued her grousing if it hadn't been for the four men that stepped out of the shadows and surrounded her. When there was less than a foot of space between her and the men, it became quite evident that their purpose was to attack her.
Emma went into a fighting stance, daring each to make the first move. One man threw a fist out in an attempt to punch her, but Mrs. Emma grabbed the arm and flipped the fellow on his back. The second man grabbed her by the waist, while the third tried to choke her. The fourth man helped the first man to his feet.
Emma struggled to remain conscious as Number Three strangled her. She brought her knees up into Three's stomach then pushed her elbows into Number Two's chest. The elbow manoeuvre had little effect on Two, but the knees did injure Three. The third man let go of her neck to clutch his stomach. Number Two gripped her waist even tighter, and Emma realised she might never get out of his hold. Quickly, as if she was bowing, Emma bent forward at her waist. The swift movement caught her nemesis off guard and he toppled over her onto the ground. Emma did not want him to recover, so she kicked the man until he lost consciousness.
With one man down, she faced the rest of her opponents. The third man was still clutching his stomach in pain, so Emma directed her attention to him first. With Number One and Number Four trying to grab her, she flung herself at Number Three. She and the third man tumbled to the ground. She was about to raise her hand to strike when she noticed Number Three was not moving. He had hit his head on a rock, one of the disadvantages of fighting outdoors.
Emma turned to her last two adversaries, venom in her usually lovely eyes. She noted a tree branch hanging low over the grounds. She advanced towards it, and when the two men followed her, whipped the bough into their faces.
The first man had already been tossed to the ground and smacked in the face. He obviously was growing tired, but the fourth man was relatively undamaged. Emma decided to finish off Number One before defeating Number Four. Mrs. Peel lunged at the first man, who responded by knocking her off her feet. He then came at her, intent on physically abusing her. Emma calmly tripped him with her legs. He landed on his face, and Emma laid him out with one of her powerful Karate chops.
She was about to rise to her feet, when the fourth and final man clasped her legs in his brawny hands. He proceeded to drag her across the lawn, laughing sadistically as he went. Emma suppressed a moan as her entire backside rubbed against grass, dirt, and pebbles. Mrs. Peel forced herself to ignore the searing pain and concentrate on her opponent. She observed that he meant to drag her over a gnarled log! A sharp branch projected from the top. If she went over it, the wood might stick into her back. With all the strength she possessed, she grabbed on to a tuff of grass with both hands.
Her adversary was not expecting Emma to hold back and, consequently, lost his balance. He screamed as he fell onto the log, the sharp limb going through his stomach. Emma turned a squeamish eye away before standing.
She stumbled back to the mansion where she encountered Charles and Mother. They exchanged weary glances before announcing, "Fighting four men was the seventh test. You aced it."
Emma barely acknowledged them as she staggered upstairs. She did not even murmur her "hellos" to Miss King when she passed her in the hall. Emma was sick--sick of all the misery these ministry men were causing just to find a suitable partner for Steed.
She'd killed one of the men she had fought tonight, and she wondered how many more had died at the hands of the female spies. Emma needn't have worried, for only one other woman passed the test. And that woman had used unconventional, almost ridiculous means, thus not killing anyone. That woman was Tara King.
Neither woman realised there was only one more test left. Who would be the winner?
~*~To Be Continued~*~
Note: I survived my bout of writer's block. Hurray!