I realize the first chapter was a little lackluster. Unfortunately this one doesn't make up for it. It still involves a lot of sitting down and talking. The action will most probably surface in the next few chapters or so.
Oh, and I'm not exactly sure why I chose who I chose to star in this fic. I think I just skimmed the 'Underrated but Part of My Favorites' list. I'll be poking around my other lists too later on, including the 'Overrated but Still Shamefully Loved', and the 'I Could Care Less if They Ate Shit and Died' one.
And I promised cookies... tosses Oreo packs to bojacky. Hehehe...
Date uploaded: 08 March 2005
Chapter 01: d.i.v.a.s. in Training
Seven weeks of hell.
Who knew a 'get out of jail free' card was this difficult to procure? Molly wearily ticked off another day on the calendar she kept beside her bed. It had been seven weeks to the day since they had had their first not quite training session. The others that followed weren't half as much fun, or as easy.
The girls' schedules were torturous - eight hours a day everyday of the week. Oh, except Sundays; then they had nine. "It's one of my free days, I can spend all of it with you three," Steven had explained one time, munching heartily on a roast beef sandwich as Molly, Lita and Victoria struggled through their three hundred sit-ups.
"Well what about our free days, Steven?" Lita pointed out, almost gasping for breath.
"Look around, ladies," Steven said, gesturing to the gray walls. "You're not free yet. Now have a little patience; I have a bonus Gummi Worms pack to the person who finishes her sit-ups first. How's that for incentive?"
Victoria's sullen response was to 'accidentally' lose her balance and kick a shoe into his eye. She had retreated into her holding cell gladly.
It wasn't just the physical challenges. Steven also had them analyzing maps, studying computer mainframes, mixing noxious chemicals, assembling and disassembling weapons (not that they would actually be carrying any, much to Victoria's disappointment) and learning how to disarm explosives. It left the girls mentally exhausted as well.
Lita's response was to constantly bitch and complain, which seemed to have no effect on their supervisor. Victoria usually stayed quiet, but if something particularly displeased her she would toss out threats here and there, and that pretty much would have more effect on Steven ("All right then, half an hour break, ladies!"). Molly had stuck it all out. It's not that she enjoyed it; Lita whined enough for three people.
Now Molly rolled sorely onto her bed. They had had two hours worth of judo training, an hour in a lab pouring disgusting smelling blue stuff into what looked like violet goo, an hour running laps, two more hours listening to why they should cut the red wire instead of the blue wire, and then another two hours aikido that had nearly turned to bitch-slapping when Victoria accidentally (for real this time) had her hair pulled by Lita. Molly groaned and snuggled under her covers.
Tomorrow Steven had promised they would do their first drill, patterned after a proper mission. Great. Fine. Whatever. Hopefully she could get some sleep before it, first.
>>>
"Good morning, ladies. Ready for the practice mission?" Steven Richards greeted heartily.
Lita, Molly and Victoria, all looking bleary-eyed and spent, scowled darkly at him. It was six-thirty that early morning, and, even with the prospect of stepping outside Black Hills for the first time in months, it was hard to look anything but surly. Sure, it would be a tiny taste of freedom, but with the alarming amount of security that seemed to have accompanied Steven that day, they weren't feeling it. Outside the massive gates they could spot at least five other black vans that seemed to hold seven officers each in the very least.
"Steven, what is this? A drill or military tactics?" Lita said dryly, observing the rifle one of the guards held.
"What? Oh them?" Steven gave a nonchalant shrug that convinced no one. "The Bureau just thought that it would be a good idea to have a little police escort, that's all."
"A little?" Victoria echoed dryly. "I doubt even Charles Manson had this much guard when he was transported to jail."
"Just admit it, Steven. You don't trust us not to escape," Molly said, narrowing her eyes. "You think that we'll bail on you the moment we get a clear shot out there."
"And can you honestly tell me that no one among the three of you has that idea?" Steven shot back.
"Not currently!" Lita defended.
"If you have any plan on this d.i.v.a.s. program going as smoothly as you want it, you have to put it as much as we are," Molly said. "Show us a little trust. Have a little faith in us. It can't all be just a one-way thing."
"I wouldn't mind watching him do a hundred sit-ups himself, though," Lita muttered.
"So call off all but one van. I'm talking all gone, no backup, no trailing," Victoria said to Steven. "Or we don't come along, and you'll be left to think up some lame excuse to give to YOUR supervisor as regards to why your plan backfired."
Steven looked pained. "One van? Can't we compromise on two?"
The three women crossed their arms over their chests and glared at him.
"Oh all right, all right!" he said, giving in. He went over to talk to one of the men standing to the side. After some initial arguing, four of the vans reluctantly packed up and went on their way. By this time it was seven in the morning and a few early risers at Black Hills were looking out curiously.
"There, they're gone, but not without demanding that they still get paid for all this shit. Now can you three just get in the vehicle?" Steven said urgently, slipping a pair of sunglasses on and pointing them in the direction of the remaining van.
"Well since you asked so nicely," Victoria drawled, moving over to where the gates had started to roll open. She turned and blew a cheeky kiss to where Sable was standing and looking out of her office window. "Sucker," she said vaguely under her breath, walking out.
Lita followed, stretching as she stepped out, and a smile actually lighting up her face. Molly stopped first and looked at Steven. "Remember, as long as you keep holding up your part of the bargain, we'll hold up our end," then she turned and moved to the van as well. "At least two of us, I'm certain," she mumbled to herself.
Steven sighed a little dejectedly, then composed himself and walked out of Black Hills, the gates rolling shut behind him. Let the drill begin.
>>>
It was five minutes into the ride that Steven dropped the bombshell.
"Repeat that for me one more time," Lita said, as Molly looked on, dumbstruck.
"Scrap the practice mission," Steven obligingly repeated as they jostled around in the back area of the van. "You guys are going in for real." He reached over and tapped something into the computer. A picture of a grinning man with bushy hair and a few missing teeth came up. "Funny you should mention my supervisor earlier, Victoria. This is my boss, Agent Michael Foley. Don't let the Pooh shirt throw you off; he's one of the most important men in our department. Anyway, six hours ago we received word that he had been abducted by a fledging terrorist who goes by the codename 'Fingerling'."
"Jesus, are stupid codenames a staple in this business?" Victoria muttered.
"Forget that, you're throwing us headlong into a mission? Right off the bat?" Lita cried, in near hysterics. "No warning? No inkling? With only seven weeks of practically textbook learning to help us?"
"Lita, calm down," Steven said patiently.
"No I will NOT calm down!" Lita shrieked.
Victoria grabbed her by the shoulder and shook her. "Get a grip!" she commanded.
Meanwhile Molly turned to Steven. "Please tell us you're joking," she said. "As out of control as Lita seems right now, she does have a point. We still lack the experience for this type of mission. It would be suicide for both your boss and us! Besides, if this Foley guy is really influential, why is the department sending three ex-cons turned spies who are still considerably green around the edges in to save him?"
"Because our other field agents are either out or on vacation," was Steven's answer. "Look, will you quit worrying? One of the other reasons why I had brought along so much security in the first place was for damage control, in case the mission got out of hand."
"Oh now you tell us," Victoria groaned. "Couldn't you have said something in the first place?"
"And have somebody overhear that an agent's gone and got himself kidnapped?" Steven snapped. "That's the equivalent of shooting ourselves in the foot."
"Oh so it's okay for the Feds to act like idiots, so as long no one finds out?" Lita said bitingly.
"Can we please get back to the briefing?" Steven finally yelled out impatiently, causing the driver, who had been introduced to them as Josh Matthews, to look back curiously. "Hear me out before you guys jump the gun."
"Fine," Molly said, sitting back and crossing her arms sullenly.
"All right," Steven said, satisfied. "Fingerling is currently nothing but a shadow to the department; nobody's ever seen his face or even knows his real name for that matter. He's had it in for Agent Foley for a while now, after Mick foiled his little plan to leak a biochemical in the airshafts during a UN meeting. Anyway, we think he's about to strike again at a comic book convention tomorrow and he's taken Mick as leverage."
"Wait, why a comic book convention?" Lita asked.
"Because the greatest minds happen to be geeks too. A bunch of heavyweights in the technology area, not to mention the mayor and a congressman will be in attendance, and considering it's going to be packed, it's a prime target."
"Okay, so what exactly do you want us to do?" Molly asked.
"We've already sent operatives to cover the convention. Your primary objective is to recover Agent Foley. We've found out that Fingerling is keeping him in a nearby inn under the watch of one of his accomplices," Steven explained. "The thing is, we've narrowed the list of this possible partner-in-crime to these three people," he motioned to the screen.
Three pictures came up, replacing Mick's grinning photo. The first was of a young black man wearing a ridiculous olive green fedora and large, orange sunglasses. "This is Keshawn O'Brien. His claims to notoriety are his declarations of being a pimp, but all we've seen so far are a lot of pissed-off women who wouldn't dream of having him as a customer, let alone a boss."
Victoria cracked her knuckles. "I'd deck him even if he weren't connected to Finger-fug."
"Fingerling," Steven corrected.
"Whatever."
"Anyway, next up is Ai Hitachi," Steven continued, focusing on the second picture, which was of a pretty Asian woman who was dressed in clothing Sable would have approved off and was giving a flirtatious smile. "She's a former stripper who married a very loaded but quite decrepit tycoon. A month after tying the knot the old man passed away. She kept his entire estate."
"You expect she did him in?" Lita asked.
"We could never be certain. Claimed he kicked the bucket while in bed with her."
Lita snickered, but then straightened her face when Steven and Molly glared at her.
"Last is Joey Gonzalez," Steven went on, pointing to the last picture showing a Latino who looked to be in his late twenties or early thirties, proudly standing beside a monster of a truck that dwarfed him. "He's a daredevil who drives one of those monster truck things at rallies. Bit of an adrenaline junkie and can never sit still; thirty-six crashes and yet to have any sort of life-threatening injury. The cleanest among the three, as far as I can garner."
"So we have a wannabe pimp, a former stripper and a monster truck driver?" Molly said skeptically. "Quite a colorful crowd."
"Tell me about it," Steven said. "All right, here, I've planned your covers for you," he said, handing them folders.
Victoria looked at hers. "Receptionist?" she said in a humorless voice. "You expect me to be a cheery, bright, welcoming receptionist named Jolene Mann?" her eyes narrowed. "Is there some hidden dig in here that you don't want to be paying for later, Steven?"
"Uh…" Steven muttered, once again tongue-crossed.
"Heck, I'd trade you!" Lita said, gaping at her profile in horror. "I'm supposed to be a guest; easy-going party girl Christy Gibson, taking a rest at a respectable inn after a wild weekend. Only you seem to have crossed out the word 'going' after 'easy', Steven," there was a definite edge to her voice there.
"Um…" Steven stuttered out intelligently.
"I trump you both," Molly suddenly spoke up, looking mutinous. "I'm taking on the role of Tina Jiffy, the ever efficient 'chambermaid' who will apparently be at the beck and call of these three possible terrorist accessories."
"Now that's not entirely true; only one of them would actually be the accomplice," Steven managed to say in his feeble defense.
All three of them glared at him.
Steven was quiet for a moment then nervously cleared his throat. "I don't suppose you would want to see your uniforms then, Molly, Victoria?"
As the van tottered dangerously and the three of them closed in on him, Steven couldn't help but wonder that this briefing had gone very much like the one he gave merely two days ago…
>>>
"Let me get this straight, I'm a STRIPPER?"
The last word was said in a practically ear-splitting crescendo, making Steven wince and hope that nobody had heard that outside the small meeting room. Across from him on the table stood the figure of Gail Kim, palms on the surface, feet planted apart, eyes blazing on him.
He tried to shrug as nonchalantly as he could. "Best possible cover I could come up with for you in such short notice."
Gail glanced at the name on her folder. "And 'Ai Hitachi'? That sounds like the perverted love child of two giant Japanese motor brands. Besides, I happen to be Korean."
"So she's a stripper, and I'm a pimp?" Shelton Benjamin said from one end, flipping incredulously through his file. "My grandmother would spear me with her cane if she saw me doing this."
"A wannabe pimp, not an actual one," Steven corrected.
"It's still fucked-up, Steven," Shelton said pointedly.
"Why are you both complaining anyway?" Steven suddenly asked irritably. "You don't see Rey pissing and moaning about his given cover," he motioned to the last agent seated at the end of the table, sipping his coffee in a relaxed manner.
"That's because he gets to drive a fucking monster truck," Shelton said, his two expletives within a minute signifying that he was quite pissed-off. "Why couldn't I have been given that cover?"
"Better yet, why couldn't I have driven the fucking monster truck?" Gail demanded, still seething. "Give Rey the stripper cover!"
At that Rey blanched, but Steven answered Gail smoothly, "No, because frankly I find you parading around in lingerie less disturbing."
That was the last straw for Gail, as she at once clambered over the table and closed her hands tightly around Steven's throat, trying to cut off his windpipe. Shelton immediately went to stop her, although his prodding was half-hearted.
Still drinking his coffee, Rey shook his head. To be quite honest, the only reason he agreed to this whole charade for Steven's program was because he owed the latter a favor, and dragged his two partners into it (he was the senior agent and thus had considerable leverage over both Gail and Shelton). He had a feeling the whole thing would be a disaster, but anything to get Steven from hanging that favor over his head like a guillotine blade.
And besides, he actually really did like the thought of driving a monster truck.
That didn't stop him from sitting back and doing nothing as Gail tried to murder a fellow agent in front of him, though.
>>> … which brought them back to this moment. Steven was indeed getting the strong feeling of deja vu as Victoria continued to strangle the life out of him.
Fortunately the vehicle came to an abrupt stop and toppled the homicidal, black-haired woman off of him. Lita and Molly followed, so all three of them ended jup sprawled around the back of the van.
Josh Matthews' head ducked into view. "We're here," he said, and then eyed them. "Uh, are you guys all right?"
"Great, just great," Molly grumbled as Victoria pushed Lita off of her.
Steven gave a croak, tested his throat by clearing it and then stood up, adjusting his tie. "Well then, let Mission: Retrieve Agent Foley begin."
>cont'd
Like I said, too much talking. More action next time, I promise. Any suggestions at all? Twsited baddies to fight in the future? Messed-up missions the girls find themselves in? I'm all ears! And here's hoping I can churn out the next chapter in a week or so!
