Natasha monitored the security camera feeds with a knot of
uncertainty in her stomach.
Aaron had instructed
her to watch the feeds while he had gone into the mine to work on the
reactor.
She shook her head
and chuckled to herself: "I can't believe I'm pining to be by
his side. Ugh! I need to focus and protect the compound!"
She took a deep
breath, and focused on the feeds, her eyes scanning for any signs of
trouble.
A small red flash
from the feed window of a camera monitoring the main access road
caught her attention. It showed a black SUV approaching the security
checkpoint.
She quickly switched
focus to the security checkpoint camera, picked up her phone, and
called Andre.
"Mr. Esposito,
you better come quickly. We have the FBI paying us a visit," she
said as the SUV pulled up to the security checkpoint, its driver
window rolled down and a woman in a black formal pantsuit showed the
checkpoint guard an FBI badge.
"Dammit! Stall
them! I'll be there in five minutes!" said Andre.
"Got it,"
said Natasha, hanging up. She clicked open the intercom to the
security checkpoint. "Checkpoint Alpha, direct the agents to the
temporary office."
"Copy that, Ms.
Parker," replied the guard, as he directed the SUV to the
temporary office.
----
Natasha came out of
the temporary office as the SUV pulled into the parking lot.
Two agents got out
of the SUV, a tall blond woman with distinctly Eastern European
features, wearing a sleek black pantsuit and low heels that hugged
and emphasized her toned form and graceful curves, and a petite
brunette with a pixie cut, wearing a loose-fitting men's style suit
that made her look even smaller, and a pair of well-worn sneakers.
"Well, well,
well. Special Agent Rochelle. What brings you out here?" asked
Natasha, recognizing the brunette from her CIA days.
"It's Raven!
And what the hell are you wearing Natasha? Are you Zakhrov's new
dominatrix or something?" asked Rochelle, her voice dripping
with contempt and indignation.
Natasha just smiled
coldly, and sauntered closer to Rochelle, the eight centimeters of
high heel enhancing the height differential, and forcing Rochelle to
look up in order to maintain eye-contact.
"Hey, strong
silent girl. Can you tell me why you fine ladies are here?"
asked Natasha, ignoring Rochelle.
"How dare you
dead-name me and then ignore me! You're under arrest for
obstruction!" shouted Rochelle or Raven, pulling out a pair of
handcuffs.
Natasha smirked, and
clenched her fist, activating the electric shock function in her
glove. Rochelle flinched backwards at the crackle of electricity.
The blond agent, who
had been silent until now, stepped forward between Rochelle and
Natasha, and gave Rochelle a firm chop on the head.
"Knock it off,
will you." she admonished Rochelle, before turning to Natasha.
"I'm Special
Agent Olga. We got a hit from your company performing a background
check search for one Hakim Hussein. He is on our terror watch list,
and would like your cooperation in bringing him in for questioning,"
replied the tall agent in a slight Slavic accent.
"I see, does he
have any known associates?" asked Natasha cautiously.
"Yes. We know
he is associated with a Mustafa Al-Sadiq, previously known as Mario
Gonzales. We suspect that they are part of a terror cell called
Osirak-Jihad, their agenda is to revive Iraq's nuclear program and
build weapons of mass destruction," replied Olga.
"And we have a
warrant to tear this place apart for any evidence of their
activities! If your boss is involved in nuclear terrorism, then we
will find it!" piped up Rochelle angrily.
"Quiet
pipsqueak! Adults are speaking," snapped Natasha.
Rochelle went for
her side-arm, but Natasha beat her to it, and had both her guns
pointed directly at Rochelle's heart, before Rochelle could even pull
hers out of the holster.
"Tsk, tsk. The
FBI training standards have started to slip," mocked Natasha, as
Olga facepalmed.
"Ms. Natasha,
stand down. No amount of Mr. Zakhrov's political connections will
save you if you shoot my partner," warned Olga firmly.
"Then muzzle
this bitch! I'm not going to tolerate her baseless accusations,"
snarled Natasha, her guns still drawn.
"Raven, wait in
the car," said Olga, as she stepped between Natasha and
Rochelle.
"Olga, you
can't be serious!" protested Rochelle.
With a small smirk,
Olga moved with lightning-quick speed and twisted Rochelle's arms
into her handcuffs, securing her wrists behind her back. Then,
ignoring her screams and threats, lifted her like a child and carried
her to the SUV.
She threw Rochelle's
kicking and screaming form into the back seat, slammed the door shut,
and locked it with the key-fob.
She then turned back
to Natasha who had holstered her guns, and was watching with a
bemused expression.
Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.
"I've always
wanted to do that," chuckled Olga.
"Alright, shall
we discuss this further in the office? It's rather hot out here,"
said Natasha.
"Please,"
said Olga, just as Andre raced into the parking lot in his Corvette.
"Alright.
What's going on here?" he asked, getting out of the car and
looking at Natasha and Olga.
"Special Agent
Olga here is looking for a Hakim Hussein, who is on the FBI's terror
watch list. She claims that he is associated with a Mario Gonzales,
who is also on the watch list," said Natasha.
"Well, I
suppose that makes this a little easier. Natasha, show her the
security footage first, then we can show her what's in the conference
room," said Andre, as he walked over to the temporary office.
"Sure, follow
me," said Natasha, leading Olga into the office.
----
"I don't know
who is more scary. The Osirak-Jihad or your boss," said Olga, as
she inspected the bomb vest on Mario's corpse.
"Well, at least
Master Zakhrov is on our side," said Natasha.
"Thank the
heavens for that! If those guys had made it past your security, then
we'd probably be looking at a proliferation nightmare," said
Olga, shaking her head.
"We still have
the truck wreckage, and the what's left of the bombers. You guys can
take them, and close the case." said Natasha.
"Well, what
about this bomb vest? We can't take it off without triggering it,"
said Olga, looking at the vest with a frown.
"Mr. Zakhrov,
has authorized the demolition of the conference room, so we can just
blow it up with the vest still on him," said Natasha.
"If only our
other investigations were this easy," chuckled Olga, snapping
photos of the corpse with a DSLR camera.
She carefully placed
Mario's severed head into an evidence bag, and stood up.
"Thank you for
your cooperation, Ms. Parker. I will make sure that my superiors know
that Sirius Nuclear is not involved in any nuclear proliferation
activities, and that you've successfully contained a security breach
from a terror cell," she said.
"Of course, we
appreciate your understanding," replied Natasha.
Olga smiled, pulled
out her radio, and called for a Crime Scene unit to come and collect
the truck wreckage and the remains of the bombers.
"Alright, I
will be on my way now. And Ms. Parker, I love your employer's taste
in uniforms," said Olga, giving Natasha a wink.
"Thank you,
Special Agent Olga. I will pass that on to Master Zakhrov,"
replied Natasha, blushing as Olga walked out of the conference room.
"I should have
gotten rid of Mario weeks ago," grumbled Aaron to himself, as he
fixed the sloppy welds on the reactor core using the welding drones.
He clicked the
intercom, and called James. "James, I need you to contact the
steel mill and have them send over three new prefabricated reactor
components. I'll build out the entire fleet. We've wasted enough time
as it is,"
"Sure thing
boss. I'll get right on it," replied James.
Aaron refocused on
the drones, guiding them as they welded the primary coolant loop to
the reactor core, ensuring that every joint was secure and
leak-proof.
The intercom buzzed,
and Natasha's voice came through: "Master Zakhrov, we had a
visit from the FBI. They were looking for a Hakim Hussein, who is on
their terror watch list. I showed them the security footage of
Mario's attempted smuggling operation, and they took the truck
wreckage and the remains of the bombers for evidence,"
"I'm assuming
that means that we are in the clear?" asked Aaron.
"Yes sir.
Special Agent Olga was very understanding, however, one of Senator
Goldberg's plants in the FBI was her partner, and that might need a
little handling," replied Natasha.
"Since you said
handling, I assume you are taking care of it?" asked Aaron.
"Yes sir. I'm
taking care of it. I'm just keeping you informed," said Natasha.
"Good girl.
I'll leave you to it," said Aaron, before hanging up.
----
"I'm already
walking a damn legal tightrope here with my ass on the line, and you
are not making it any easier by trying to send your lapdogs in to
blow my cover!" snarled Natasha, barging into Monica's office.
"Well, I
wouldn't have to if you keep hiding developments while giving me next
to useless info!" shot back Monica, taken aback by Natasha who
was still in her uniform - albeit unarmed and without her gloves.
"And what makes
you think you can spin a successfully contained nuclear proliferation
and terrorism attempt into some disaster? They had a problem, they
caught it just in time, and then hired me, an ex Army Ranger and CIA
operative to oversee security so that it doesn't happen again. How
would you spin that Senator?" spat Natasha.
"Well you
didn't mention that in your report yesterday! Have you turned
turncoat Natasha? Because from the way you just defended your 'boss'
it sounds like you did?" sneered Monica, as two of her security
guards emerged and grabbed Natasha.
Natasha regarded
Monica, unfazed by the guards holding her. "Let's compare notes
shall we? Osirak-Jihad terrorists try to smuggle a canister of heavy
water that Sirius Nuclear is legally licensed to produce. They are
caught and suicide bomb themselves, the heavy water is recovered, and
all the FBI can do when they arrive is mop up the evidence. Go ahead,
bring this up in a full senate investigation. You might as well give
Aaron Zakhrov a medal of valor and carte blanche to do whatever he
wants at that point," she said.
"Alright. But
consider this your last warning, hag. If I get so much as a whiff
that you've forgotten who you really work for, you won't live to see
the light of another day!" said Monica through gritted teeth,
motioning to her guards to release Natasha.
"Now, for the
dirt that you wanted. Sirius Software is funding a new fashion
start-up to make its dress code compliance easier by manufacturing
ergonomic skirt-suits and high heels," said Natasha, brushing
imaginary dust off her blazer.
"Dress codes?
High heels? You call that dirt?" asked Monica, her voice
dripping with contempt.
"This is the
revised Sirius Software official dress code for female employees.
Make of that what you will," said Natasha, pulling out a copy of
the dress code and handing it to Monica.
Monica took the
document, and her eyes widened as she read through it.
"BMI windows?
Automatic fines? Mandatory makeup? This violates so many labor laws!
You're telling me that this is real and not fake?" she asked
excitedly.
"It's real,
Senator, but you've got a small window to act on it," said
Natasha, casually sitting down and propping her booted feet on
Monica's desk.
"What do you
mean?" asked Monica, her eyes narrowing.
"Take a good
look at my boots, Senator," said Natasha, angling her foot so
that the gleaming heels caught the light.
"Looks kind of
impractical for a security guard uniform, as is the rest of your
wannabe dominatrix outfit! Have to say, Zakhrov loves his leather,"
scoffed Monica.
Natasha smirked,
raised her foot, and stabbed it into the desk, the titanium alloy
heels ripping through the cheap medium density fiber like tissue
paper. The guards recoiled in horror, and Monica was shocked
speechless.
"These are
titanium reinforced combat boots, and Sirius Software is going to be
rolling them out as standard issue for their female security
personnel. They don't pinch, they don't make you wobble, and they can
be worn all day without your feet hurting. I estimate that you have a
week to farm feminist outrage before Aaron Zakhrov engineers it into
irrelevance," said Natasha, getting up and walking out.
----
Natasha drove slowly
through a pounding rain, her car's new wipers sweeping the sheets of
rain away.
She noticed a figure
standing by the side of the road, trying in vain to use a plastic box
as an improvised umbrella as she approached the Sirius Software
compound.
"Agent Olga?
What are you doing out here?" she asked, pulling over and
recognizing the figure under the plastic box.
"Just Olga now.
I've had a little falling out with the FBI," chuckled the tall
blond agent, trying in vain to hide that she was shivering.
"Come on, get
in," said Natasha, unlocking the passenger door.
----
"Pretty nice
place you've got here," said Olga, looking around Natasha's
apartment nursing a cup of hot coffee. Her hair was freshly
blow-dried, and she had changed into a toweling bathrobe that Natasha
had lent her.
"Thanks. I just
moved in a few days ago," replied Natasha, sitting down on the
couch next to Olga.
"I suppose you
want me to tell you everything. Well, after I submitted my report, I
got called into a meeting with the Director. He was not happy that I
had restrained my partner, and offered me a choice - either I could
resign, or I could fight the sexual harassment charge Rochelle wanted
to file against me. I chose resignation," said Olga, her voice
breaking slightly.
"There, there.
I know how you feel. I've had my share of being chewed up and spat
out by the system," said Natasha, putting a comforting arm
around Olga's shoulders.
"Thank you,
Natasha. I appreciate it," said Olga, leaning into Natasha's
embrace.
"You've told me
about how and why you left the FBI, but you haven't told me why you
were standing outside the Sirius Software compound in the rain,"
said Natasha.
"Don't miss
much do you?" chuckled Olga. "Well, I was hoping to run
into you, actually. Before I left, I'd seen that you had put out a
few feelers for female ex-military and ex-law enforcement personnel.
And since I'm now out of a job, I thought I could apply," she
said.
"I see. You've
got a place to stay?" asked Natasha.
Olga shifted
uncomfortably. "Rochelle was my roommate as well as my partner.
I don't have anywhere to go now," she mumbled, her face red.
"It's a good
thing that I like you Olga, because I don't usually do this sort of
thing," grumbled Natasha, tossing Olga a spare blanket. "Make
yourself comfortable on the couch. I don't suppose you have a skirt
do you?" she asked, eyeing Olga's pantsuit that was spinning in
the dryer.
Olga shook her head
miserably. "I didn't know just how well connected that pipsqueak
Rochelle is. All I've got is some nightclothes and some underwear in
that box. I suppose it could have been worse, and I could have been
thrown in Federal prison on false charges," she said, tears
welling up in her eyes.
Natasha sighed as
she considered the possibility that Olga was attempting to infiltrate
Sirius Software with this sob story.
"Let's dangle
some bait and see if she bites," she thought to herself.
"Sirius
Software has an extremely strict dress code for female employees and
applicants. A skirt-suit with a fitted or traditional cut, high heels
of no less than 8 centimeters, and pantyhose or stockings. If you are
still serious about applying, you can get the required clothing
tomorrow with this," she said, handing Olga her Sirius Software
employee credit card.
Olga took the card,
her expression a mix of gratitude and determination. "Thank you,
Natasha. I won't let you down."
"Don't thank me
yet. You have 24 hours to get the clothing and a new bank account set
up. Then you have to pass the interview and tactical assessment. If
you fail, you're out. I'm not about to turn the job posting into a
charity show," said Natasha seriously.
Olga nodded, her
expression serious. "I understand. I won't let you down."
"Good. Now, get
some rest. You look like you need it," said Natasha, getting up
and heading to her bedroom.
