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Short Story A Strange GirlPrevious Story:Next Story: Warning: This story contains mature situations and sexual themes. "Paige Bonnaire!? I haven't heard that name in ages," Angelique Martin said, her voice a flustered mix of surprise and worry. Her English was perfect; her accent nearly undetectable. "Who exactly did you say you were?" "My name is Penelope Shear. I'm with the police in the United States. I know that my authority doesn't extend across the Atlantic, but I need your help." Penny's voice betrayed a desperate tenor behind her words, something she would've kept in check were she speaking with anyone in a position of authority or making the...
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Short Story Cloak and DaggerPrevious Story: Next Story: soon Penny's navy colored pea coat and scarf fought back the chill of the Mayfair night. The chunk heels of her black loafers thudded softly on the cobbles as she briskly strolled up the covered arcade street. "Phthalo," her watcher said through her earpiece. She flicked her hair over her left ear in acknowledgment. The gold lettering on the glass said Anseworth's. Foot traffic was light this time of night, the streets well-patrolled by well-groomed bobbies. Penny acted naturally as she produced the key she'd been given by her team lead. It fit the lock and turned easily as expected. She'd be going ...
For Stilette there were two kinds of take: business and pleasure. Today was all business. Her retifistic passions alone weren't enough to keep the lights on, pay-off her network of informants and flips, engineer her gadgets, or keep fuel in the jet. She wore her game face as she walked down the busy South American street in a sun dress, thin thong sandals that slapped her bare soles as she walked, and a wide brimmed hat, keeping the sun from her face and shoulders.
Buenos Aires was a city Stilette had come to know well as a professional, thanks to its wealth. It was also a city she longed to know better as a person, but again the petty hungers of the soul would just have to wait. The Faena Arts center dominated its own block of the city's waterfront. The bay windows and monolithic lines marked it as an old turn-of-the-century industrial building, but the interior sang its own song.
Exhibiting mostly local and South American works, the Faena was as much a local cultural center as it was a house of exhibition. Stilette gracefully wound her way through the largely empty ground floor, weaving in between impressionist and modernist sensibilities abounding about her. There it was.
Oranges and reds spread across a patina of thinly hammered copper spread between a frame one meter wide and two tall, rivetted and pipped with holes of varying sizes to create depth and interplay of light. The genderless humanoid form emerging from the piece was nearly floral in its sensibilities and shapes. The art world called it a masterpiece. The woman who made it called it A Mother's Magical Realism. Stilette called it a paycheck. A heavy, unwieldy paycheck.
Normally, Stilette prefered simpler takes for business purposes. She saved most of her daring for her passionate crimes. But she had a direct line to a buyer for this piece in Taipei. The sum had made her eyebrows bounce.
"Stunning isn't it?" A voice asked quietly behind Stilette. She glanced behind her to see a young local man, dressed in business casual. A security badge waggled freely from his belt. His name was Harmine.
"Yes, I found myself lost in it," Stilette said. Her Spanish was rougher than her English, peppered with occasional breaks or stumbling of syllables. She'd been told it had a cute, almost endearing sound to it. "The use of form and gradience in the vignetting at the corners, excellent, no?"
"You have a good eye for details," Harmine said as he stepped to join her. "Most people focus on the figure." His fingers lazily traced in the air the humanoid shape in the work's center.
"I like details." Stilette said cryptically, her eyes briefly flashing from beneath the brim of her hat.
Penny's head ached from the adrenaline. Her lip was bleeding. The suspect was collared though. Half-conscious and pissing himself in the back of the squad car sure, but collared. She and Rodero were thankful neither of them had to resort to the pepper spray.
No dress uniform today. Penny was in her blacks with slacks and boots. And she was glad for it. With that struggle on scene, nylons and pumps wouldn't have cut it. Lately though, the thought vaguely titillated her. Not that she let the idea linger for long.
"Eye of the tiger, Shear! That was one hell of a takedown." Rodero said back at the precinct.
"Hey yo'," Penny joked back before swiping her lip. "I'm gonna get this cleaned up, okay?"
"No problem. I've got check-in." Rodero nodded before heading back to processing.
Penny had just cleaned up in the locker room when the captain found her. "Shear. You've got a visitor." The captain looked concerned and faintly flummoxed.
"Captain?"
"My office," the captain said before turning and walking back down the hall. Shear followed quickly.
Standing inside was an older dark skinned man clad in an expensive charcoal suit with a cobalt colored shirt underneath, no tie, his hair well kept in a short comely dry look. He stood when both women entered and smiled. "Officer Shear?" He extended a well-manicured hand.
Penny shook it reflexively. "Yes, sir?" She briefly glanced at the captain. The captain returned an inscrutable glance.
"Arji Assif, Interpol. I'd like a few moments of your time." Arji's accent was continental, impossible for Penny to place.
"What's this regarding?" Penny asked immediately.
"We'll get to that. Captain, I wouldn't want to leave your office indisposed. Is there somewhere Officer Shear and I may speak? Alone."
"Right this way, mister Assif." Her voice ringing with faint exasperation, the captain pivoted and headed back out into the hall.
Arji gestured toward the door and smiled at Penelope.
Stilette swiped Harmine's card through the lock. It beeped affirmatively and she was in out of the dark of the loading bay. She hadn't put eyes on security in the brief time she was here previously, but she was sure they used the same out-of-the-box set-up most institutions in Argentina used. The take-away from that is security would know that Harmine's card just opened the personnel door in the loading bay.
"Hola, señor Harmine?" A guard called down a corridor some moments later. The puck-grenade slid into his foot before it quietly pulsed a jet of mist. He stumbled backward, gasping wordlessly, before he collapsed.
Stilette wasted no time. She bolted around the corner toward the exhibit. She wore only the night's essentials with her bodysuit. A few spare pucks, one of her custom stunners in case things got ugly, a few tools, and the container for the take, collapsed and folded in on itself currently.
At the installation, she set to work with a pair of wire-cutters and snipped through crimps keeping the piece installed. She glanced over her shoulder, ever wary for more security to arrive.
Penny sat down in the conference room opposite Arji Assif. She didn't wait for him to begin. "You said you were from Interpol?"
"Yes, Officer Shear." Arji's face carried the same general jolliness he'd greeted her with.
"Then this is about Stilette." Penny said as matter-of-factly as she could.
"It is." Arji paused as he pulled out his smartphone and set it down on the conference table. "Two days ago you spoke with one Inspector Richard Clairemont. Shortly afterward, you received a series of multi-media messages from him. While I don't know what they contained, I do know their size and number. Then, after these messages, you began to receive smaller MMS and standard text messages from a number we can run, but that is apparently dead, out of service that is. Until someone flips the switch again I imagine."
Penny's knees shifted against each other under the table. "Yes. I was consulting with the inspector." Penny's voice remained firm. Her eyes never left Arji's.
"And through official channels as I understand it. At first, that is. I've spoken with the liaison that put the two of you in touch." Arji paused to glance at his phone. "Did you know that Inspector Clairemont's home was burglarized?"
"No. I didn't," Penny let a hint of surprise slip through.
"Yes. Stilette herself, according to Clairemont, broke in, overwhelmed him when he caught her, and made off with a number of files. Missing persons, petty theft. He told me that these things could lead to a positive ID, a pulling back of the curtain if you will, on the mysterious Stilette."
Penny said nothing. She knew he was leading her.
After a moment of silence, Arji continued. "It would be very much within Stilette's modus operandi to, say, have an informant or perhaps even a confederate help her steal concrete evidence about her identity. I've investigated the inspector. A good policeman he seems. What about you, Officer Shear? Your record is spotless. Your performance reports, exemplary. The paper trail suggests to me that you couldn't possibly be one of her assets. But paper...it often fails to capture the whole person. And in light of these mysterious messages you've received, and Stilette's escape from the Armigen's under your watch..."
"If you're casting aspersions on my character, I won't stand for it mister Assif! My record stands on its own. And I would never, never, aid and abet that woman. Since she escaped at Armigen Manor, I've been consumed with seeing her brought to justice." The fires burning in Penny were real, but there was more to them than what she spoke.
"Really? That's good to hear, officer." Arji smiled again before glancing at his phone.
There was no customary "hold it" or "stop right there" this time. The ambush came suddenly and violently. Military flashbangs exploded in the Faena, damaging works both new and old. Their tactical body armor was next generation; their rifle magazines chambered armor penetrating rounds. They bore no insignia, no identifying marks.
Stilette was overwhelmed in seconds. Mobbed by five of them, her wrist and ankles were zip-tied immediately. She struggled reflexively, but with her senses reeling and against so many, it was for naught. "It's her," she didn't hear one of them say through their armored helmet as they pulled her mask off.
"Then being an upstanding officer, would you care to explain this mystery number? Incidentally, you placed a number of international calls afterward. That is rather curious, isn't it? Your social media presence, though minimal, doesn't have any international connections. Your family all live within a few hundred kilometers of here." Arji drew a circle in the air above his head. "
"I was following up on leads I'd gotten from the files Clairemont sent me. Files that he was also going to send to you for notice reissuance might I add."
"It seems they were deleted from his phone, the copies you admit he sent you. But I assume you wouldn't have any problem passing them over to Interpol yourself?"
Penny furrowed her brow. "I will turn them over when I'm ready." Penny stood up from the table. "Participation and cooperation with Interpol is entirely voluntary on the part of personnel and organizations under the umbrella of member states. And I'm not some idiot that thinks you have prosecutorial powers. You don't. I know my rights and my obligations, mister Assif. Are we through here?"
Arji smiled that same equanimous smile. "If you want to be done, then yes. But, I suggest you wait." Arji pointedly looked at his phone.
Penny raised an eyebrow.
Stilette felt the cold diamond plate beneath her cheek and a boot pressing into her shoulder blade on the floor of the transport. Her vision and hearing began to return to normal. The interior of the vehicle was illuminated with red light. It looked military. Stilette had been captured by law enforcement, organized crime, and by a spurned lover once, but this was new.
She wasn't alone. Aside from the jackboot keeping her pressed to the floor, there was another armored goon to her left that she could see. Their rifle was checked but still easily at the ready. These people didn't come to play. No cheeky games with pretty Penelope today. No payday either.
"Merde," Stilette said into the floor of the vehicle.
"We have agents, Officer Shear. In Argentina as you and I speak. We may very well have Stilette already. And when I say 'we' I don't strictly mean Interpol." Arji paused.
"Then who is we?" Penny eased back into her chair.
"Under the auspice of Article 3 of the North Atlantic Treaty an organization was created in 1949 consisting of military specialists, law enforcement veterans, and scholars judicial. Technically part of NATO's joint-operations oversight command, we are largely independent of that role however."
Penny swallowed and looked at Arji skeptically. "Who are you?" She asked again, the question landing with new and different weight.
"You've heard the expression 'Justice is blind' yes?"
Penny nodded.
"We are her eyes, and we are very far from blind." Arji produced a pair of different ID cases from his blazer and slid them over to Penny. She flipped them open. One was Interpol. The other was NATO, and Penny certainly didn't recognize the stylized eye-and-compass watermark on it. "We are called Occulus."
The tiny sliver of ceramic hidden in the cuff of Stilette's bodysuit had already cut through most of the zip tie. She'd just need to twist it off when the time was right. Her ankles were another story. Thanks to the size and cut of her boots, she was confident she could wriggle free, but it would take a second and definitely leave her bootless. Under other circumstances, she wouldn't have minded so much.
The boot on her shoulder blade had relaxed. The goon was just resting it there now as the vehicle trundled over rough feeling roads. Judging from how heavy they came, Stilette knew they would have priority transport waiting and more secure restraints. She needed to escape quickly.
She flexed and rotated her ankles in preparation. They hit the next bump in the road. Lightning fast, Stilette kicked her legs up till her heels hit her butt as soon as she felt the boot on her shoulder lighten from the bump. Her wrists breaking free of the zip tie, she grabbed the heels of her own boots and tugged them off fluidly, the zip tie on the ankles going with them.
It was chaos. One goon lunged for her while the other snapped a collapsible baton out and whipped it to full length. Stilette avoided the lunge as she turned to the door on the back of the vehicle. The baton thug swung over the goon that lunged. Turning the door open, Stilette threw a kick behind her just to fend off the baton goon. It worked, but as the goon gave ground, the baton connected solidly with her thigh. She yelped reflexively but got the door open.
"So you actually are what, world police?" Penny slid the IDs back to Arji.
"In so many words, yes," Arji said, the same jovial smile lighting up his features. "Of course, we only officially operate in North Atlantic Charter states, but you are intelligent enough to know that doesn't restrict our activities."
"I thought," Penny was saying but Arji's phone chirped pleasantly.
"Ah, good. May I?" Arji asked without waiting. He picked up his phone and answered immediately. "Yes, agent?"
Arji frowned for the first time Penny had seen.
Stilette had known him as Harmine. He stood there, his hands shaking as he called mister Assif.
"Yes, agent?" Arji almost always sounded like he was good in spirits.
"She's gone, sir." The agent said quietly, his words dripping with shame.
"And how did that happen, agent?" Arji's voice would've still sounded mirthful to someone that hadn't worked for him as long as the agent had.
"We're not sure, sir. We apprehended her exactly as planned, but she escaped her restraints in transit, overcame her escorts and...disembarked from the personnel carrier at speed. We've lost her in the city."
Arji ended the call without another word.
"What's happened?" Penny asked. Arji smiled and ignored her question.
"Officer Shear, I came here for two reasons. One: I needed to know if you were one of Stilette's assets. Right now, I don't believe that's the case. And two, dependant upon the first: would you like a job?"
"You mean with Occulus?" Penny was legitimately surprised.
"Stilette has eluded our present operation in Buenos Aires. Independant of that, I think you could make an excellent operative. But, in light of the current circumstances, I think now would be an opportune time to bring you aboard." Arji folded his fingers neatly on the table and waited for Penny's response.
"When can I start?" Penny heard herself say. It sounded crazy out loud.
"Immediately." Arji said as he stood and reached across the table to shake Penelope's hand.
Helicopters are a common sight in Buenos Aires. Tourists take helicopter tours everyday and the wealthy and powerful commonly use them to bypass traffic. Stilette's feet and thigh were killing her as she climbed into the helicopter. She'd done a lot of work in the city, and she wasn't afraid to cash in a few favors.
The pilot said nothing during the flight. That didn't stop him from letting his eyes wander over his strange, beautiful passenger, more out of curiosity than lechery.
Stilette let her mind wander as the helicopter hurtled toward her secondary bug-out location. She didn't dare get close to the first one. These people, whomever they were, seemed like the sort to do their homework.
"Oh my babies," she said to herself as she dusted her feet off. Her stockings picked and torn, soles red and nicked, she sighed.
Her mind turned over the day's events. How much of this had been a set-up? The rube at the Faena, Harmine? Why stop there. Maybe the whole job, the buyer in Taipei. Stings were usually small scale, transparent to a pro like Stilette. This took some serious planning and information.
When she got home, she'd need to do some house-cleaning. Someone in her network must've flipped for these people or at the very least been manipulated by them. She looked at the chipped polish on her toes and sighed.
She thought of Penelope. Stilette was thankful she was insulated from all this unpleasantness...
