Forum Saradas
Female Muscle Art - Female Muscle Fiction => Muscular Women Fiction => Topic started by: El_Roy_1999 on November 04, 2013, 01:36:14 pm
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Another story start. I hope it'll work out. Once again, it will take time, since I'm busy with commissions and real life stuff, but I just want to try to do this.
And tomorrow ... The World!
by El_Roy_1999
_______________________
"Ladies, if I may have your attention?"
Harry Sawyer Jr. had climbed on a chair and looked around in the office. Ruth looked up to him, but only in name. Ever since his old man had died, the company had slowly built up a huge debt. Business was faltering and people apparently no longer needed any tractors. The economic crisis had erupted a few months earlier, but everybody had expected a quick recovery. So much about that.
"So, are you all listening?" He stared at Norma, who just wanted to finish her chat. She stopped and looked at him anxiously. "Good. Fine. So, here's the news: Yesterday, there was a big stock market crash. Our money is lost and we're done here. I'm sorry to tell you, but you're out of jobs."
It took a few seconds for his words to sink in. Ruth stared at the formerly smug young man whose hair had turned gray and drab overnight. She sighed. There wasn't much anybody could do. Around her, the other women started to cry, to plead or to mumble. Somehow, Ruth failed to get angry. She had known Harry Jr. was not worth it. She stood up, took her jacket and walked past him, picking up her coat and hat. With a deadpan voice, she said:
"Good job, Harry."
He wanted to remind her that he was still Mr. Sawyer to him, but her pitying look dissuaded him.
Ruth stepped outside and watched the graying autumn sky. She shrugged again. Still better than Russia. Maybe she'd find a job again soon. One man's loss must be another man's gain.
-
Three months later, Ruth's mood had considerably darkened. Her money had just run out and the only reason why her landlady hadn't thrown her out yet was because she had herself been forced to give up the house, unable to pay the mortgage. Then, the bank had collapsed, allowing her to keep on squatting in her room. However, there was no future in this situation. The newspapers were full of grandiose announcements suggesting that this was only a temporary downturn and that the economy would soon recover, but it didn't look this way from her perspective.
Work as a secretary was hard to get. She had managed to hold down a job for a few days, but then that business had also gone belly-up. She was now sitting in a diner, reading the newspaper and frowning at the headlines. She put it down to take another sip of coffee, then fumbled for a cigarette. She knew that smoking women were still seen as prostitutes or worse in this part of the country, but she didn't care. Smoking was cheaper than eating and not being hungry was better than having a good name at a time like this. She lit the cigarette, took a puff and grinned at the tired looking gentleman who frowned at her from two tables away.
She had asked the manager whether she could work here, but he had just shrugged and told her that he barely managed to get by now. Still, she had to find a way to earn some cash and soon. She looked at the embers and ashes and reached for her mirror. Was this the future? She checked her looks. She was pale, tall and quite nice to look at. She had an oval face, long lashes and black locks. She was certainly no beauty queen, but if this was the last chance ... She shook her head. Best not think about it. She looked out of the window. In the street, an automobile plodded along. Imagine that she had been saving for one of these and now this.
Suddenly, she recognized someone. She got up, threw a few coins on her table and ran out. The wind outside was cold and dry. She held on to her hat with one hand and waved with the other.
"Hey! Over here! Jacob!"
The man turned around, saw her and waved back. He crossed the street carefully and took off his hat. She hadn't seen him in years and he had changed quite a bit. He was still quite handsome, but he also seemed very thin, this making him seem even taller than his six feet. He wore his black hair short, but she could see some of it had turned gray and his skin had grown dark and leathery.
He greeted her enthusiastically, shook her hand, embraced her and finally kissed her on her cheek. She laughed at him as he fumbled for words:
"Ruth! Nice seeing you. I was looking for you. How are you? What do you do?"
"Nothing much. I'm fine, but I'm looking for a job. How about you?" She stopped and asked:
"You were looking for me?"
"Oh, yes. I need help and I thought, well, I can ask. So, you're looking for a job? That's nice. I have one to offer."
"Tell me more."
"I will. But we shouldn't do this out in the open. 'Les oreilles ennemies vous écoutent.' if you will."
"We can go to my place."
"Are you sure your landlady will approve? I wouldn't want to embarrass you."
"Jacob, I've known you since we were little kids in Lublin. We're like brother and sister."
"Cousins. Let's be cousins."
She grinned and said:
"Besides, it's better than to go to a hotel."
He nodded.
____________________
At the house, they climbed up the stairs and reached her room. The building had once been quite nice, but the landlady had stopped spending money on maintaining it some time ago and it had begun to be quite dilapidated. The older woman still lived here, but she didn't manage to care about Ruth's guest. Looking at her tiredly, she kept her thoughts to herself and did her best to ignore what she thought would be the death blow to her reputation. The only thing she managed was a short "You keep your door open, will you?". Ruth agreed quickly and led her companion to her quarters. It was small, clean room, with a narrow bed and a small table. There were some hooks on the wall to hang your clothes on and a basin for washing. There was also a shelf full of books. Most of them were second-hand or even borrowed and never returned. Jacob smiled as he browsed the shelf.
"Turgenev, Zweig, Hemingway ... Not a very feminine set of authors, don't you think?"
"Who cares? They read well. How about you? What have you been reading?"
"Hesse mostly."
"Really? I usually find him to be too absorbed in his own talking. Always the spirituality and the self-awareness."
"That's what I like about it."
"Fine." She sat on the bed, leaving him to lean against the wall. "What did you want to talk about?"
He smiled and said:
"Well, you are looking for a job and I'm looking for a person I can trust. I'm going to be blunt: I'm looking for a secretary."
"Like a typist?"
"Not quite. More like Rilke to Rodin. Someone who helps me organize things, who will criticize my work and who will help me get things right the first time. Do you think you could do that?"
"Why not? If I may ask: What will you be paying me? I have bills, you know?"
"Absolutely. I don't know, you'll have your own apartment, food and drink will be provided. Maybe 500 dollars a month?"
"Are you serious?"
"Do I ever joke?"
"Then I'm in." She nodded. "What business are you in, by the way?"
He grinned.
"Get packed. I'll tell you on the way."
____________________
Three hours later, they were sitting in the first-class compartment of a westward bound train. Jacob had carried her luggage all the way to the station, eschewing the services of taxi drivers and porters. Now that the train was underway, he was relaxing, adding:
"We have a long journey before us. I'd recommend you to sleep now. There's going to be a lot of excitement when we arrive."
"What kind of excitement?"
"The usual. You'll see." He closed his eyes and added: "Oh, just one thing. For the sake of the whole thing, do not call me Jacob when other people are present. It would spoil the show."
"Fine. How should I call you, then?"
"You may address me as Master. Or as Enlightened One. Either is fine."
"Master? Enlightened One? What kind of business are you running?"
"You'll see. I'd prefer it to speak for itself."
"If you say so."
"So does the Master."
With these words, he remained quiet and soon began gently snoring. Ruth stayed awake. This whole situation was odd. She had to admit she was intrigued. Somehow, Jacob, she corrected herself, the Master was a mystery to her. She had known him since he had been a kid, but this was different. Did she truly know who he was? People changed, sometimes for the worse. Suddenly, she was afraid. Maybe this was like one of those scary stories she had heard: Of Turkish pashas paying young men to abduct young women and force them to become slaves. On the other hand, she was pretty sure that this place was as far from the East as it could be and she certainly was no longer in the age for any harems. Besides, she knew him after all. Jacob was all talk. He wouldn't hurt her. This was just one of his stupid ploys to impress her.
Still, she stayed awake as the landscape became flatter and flatter and the world outside went dry. She wondered where this would take her.
-
In the end, she must have fallen asleep, since she was woken by the train's whistle. She opened her eyes and tried to find out where she was. Before she could, she saw Jacob do something extremely odd. He was pulling off his hair and putting it in a box. A wig?
She watched him as he took a fake beard from another one and put that on. She had to ask:
"What's going on? What are you doing?"
He turned around. This was the moment she realised he was topless, wearing only a kind of wide, black skirt slashed with red.
"I'm just getting ready for our arrival. It won't take long."
"Fine, but what about the hair?"
He turned away and began lining his eyes with black make-up.
"There is one thing you have to realise, if you want to be successful in this world: Never let anybody find out what you're going to do next."
He put on a wide, sleeveless red shirt and added a black robe, vaguely similar to a monk's outfit. She saw a rampant tiger tattooed on his wiry chest. Finally, he put on ear-rings, a large wooden amulet and several rings. He slipped out of his shoes and put on some sandals. The train stopped.
Jacob checked his looks and nodded, putting on some dark glasses that conceiled his eyes. He put up the robe's hood and turned to her:
"How do I look?"
"Jacob ..."
He lifted his finger.
"Please."
"Master ..."
"Better."
"What is this supposed to be?"
"Wait a moment, you'll see."
-
The door of the compartment opened. A huge man held it open and Jacob, no, the Master, stepped outside. As he walked out, he said in a strange, singing voice:
"This is my new secretary. She is allowed to thread in my footsteps."
The huge man with the military haircut lifted his fist and shouted:
"Yes, Master!"
"Calm down, my pupil. We are not at war. Not yet."
He walked out, followed by Ruth who carried her suitcase and by the enormous man. Now that she could take a closer look, she saw that he was wearing some kind of carnival uniform. He also carried a handgun and a strange, curved knife. He was quite intimidating in his black and red outfit. What was he up to? Was this some kind of blackshirt, Mussolini-like organization?
She was rather afraid by now. If the things you heard from Europe were true, there was a lot fighting between uniformed paramilitaries now. She hoped this hadn't been a mistake.
She climbed out of the railway car and saw a cheering crowd. There were people in uniforms similar to those worn by the giant, there were men, women and children in simple smocks with odd symbols embroided and a small brass band was playing a rousing melody. Everybody was cheering as Jacob advanced through the crowd, distributing blessings and handing out small gifts. He kissed babies and laid his hands on presented heads. He seemed almost demure at their adulation and walked through the parting masses. He finally reached an automobile that was waiting for him. The large man held open the back door and helped him in. He waved at the crowd as Ruth slipped inside.
After a few final blessings, the car started and carried them with him. The bodyguard travelled on the running board. She asked her boss:
"What was that?"
"That, my pupil, was gratitude. Undeserved, for I am just a humble servant, but there you are."
"Gratitude? What for?"
He held out his hand and motioned at the greening landscape. The area was surrounded by desert, but here, amidst small hedges and trees, the gardens bloomed and the fields were bountiful.
"For this."
-
The car drove through orchards and fields, when a large structure came into view. It loomed like a mountain, with towers, turrets and bunkers. Above it, Ruth could see balloons and dirigibles floating in the clear air. The car slowed down and the Master opened the roof, standing up. She saw lines after lines of uniformed men and women stand at attention as the car passed them. He blessed them as the car went by and they looked at him adoringly. They lifted their fists and saluted. The car stopped in front of the building's gate. There, another guard, equally uniformed in red and black but wearing facemasks and silver details on their clothes stood to attention. Jacob got out of the car after a small set of steps had been set up and blessed them too. Then, he walked to a lectern covered in black velvet and decorated with a red symbol showing an intertwined triangle, circle and square and gave a speech. Once again, he spoke in this strange singsong voice:
"My pupils! It is a great joy for me to return to this blessed county. I have seen the toil you have invested into its soil and it makes me proud. It tells me that you are truly following the tenets of my teachings. This will be the foundation upon which we will build a new world. A new world for us to prosper in, a new world free from poverty, a new world free from the shackles of slavery."
There were cheers all around.
The Master accepted their thanks gladly and finally retreated into the fortress. As he left, he ordered one of his attendants to distribute small gifts and to open the mess hall for the feast. Then, he disappeared. As the men and women marched away, Ruth got out of the car and followed him inside.
-
As soon as she came in, she realised that the building was a maze. Within seconds, she felt lost, having no idea where he had gone. She wandered about in confusion, still carrying her suitcase around with her. What was going on? Where had Jacob disappeared to? The endless corridors with marble floors and columns were intimidating, just as the paintings that showed the Master leading his people to greener pastures, unifying the different parties and receiving the prayers of the masses. This whole place was highly confusing and irritating. It had a certain operetta feeling to it. Everything was bizarrely overdone, as if it had been built as an elaborate hoax. She wondered where everybody had gone too, when she was suddenly interrupted by a young man in uniform.
"Madam? Are you the Master's new secretary?"
She turned to him and nodded:
"That's right. Where is he? I'm afraid I must have lost him?"
"Ah, don't worry. The fortress is a little confusing, but you will get used to it. My name is Journeyman O'Toole. I am to take you to your quarters. Would you mind following me?"
"Not at all. Thank you very much."
He led her through the labyrinthine building, passing courtyards, further gates and what felt like miles of corridors and stairs before finally arriving at a small door next to an enormous portal. He stood to attention and explained:
"This will be your apartment. The Master will send for you soon. Your clothes have been laid out for you, please be ready."
"My clothes?"
"The Master believes in uniformity of appearance in order to enhance the feeling of community we all crave."
She hesitated:
"I see ..."
-
Ruth walked into a sumptuous apartment. There were three rooms, a living room, a bedroom and a kitchen. There was also a door that led outside into a small garden. The apartment was clean, the floor was laid with parquet and the decorations made of brass and stucco. The furniture was simple, yet elegant. There was a large painting on the wall, showing a battle-scene. There was also a piano in the living room as well as several bookcases. She was surprised to find the same style of novels she liked to read. She couldn't help feeling uneasy. On the other hand, she appreciated the gesture. There was also a bowl of fresh fruit and some flowers.
The bedroom was equally fancy. A large bed, a wardrobe and a small, yet useful bathroom. She discovered the clothes on the bed. Surprised, she picked them up. A black trouser skirt with red details, a blouse, a black leather belt with what she decided to call the cult symbol, a uniform-style jacket and a black and red cap. There were also a pair of gloves and shoes, both made of soft black leather.
Ruth wondered what this was supposed to look like when she suddenly heard a disembodied voice above her:
"Greetings. I am Karel, your automatic assistant. May I be of service?"
She looked around, asking:
"Who was that? Where are you?"
"I am above you. Look up."
She did and saw a strange set of rails mounted to the ceiling. On them, a boxy machine was mounted that looked at her through a camera lens.
"What are you?"
With a clicking, choppy voice, it replied:
"As I have said, I am Karel, your automatic assistant. May I be of service?"
"I don't know. I'm supposed to get dressed. I'd be glad to be left alone while I do that."
"Of course. If you need assistance, call me."
She nodded, unsure of what to make of this.
"I will. Now shoo."
With a click, the machine set in motion and disappeared through a flap in the wall.
Ruth undressed and put on the outfit. When she looked at herself in the mirror, she was surprised. She did look impressive. Quite threatening actually. She grinned and stood to attention, thrusting out her chest. The breast pockets swelled, the tightly cut blouse gave her a slim waist. She looked good.
Time to pay Jacob a visit.
-
When she approached the enormous door, it opened automatically, showing a large corridor followed by a beautiful garden. In it, there was a platform on which Jacob was sitting. He was still wearing his disguise, but was also stripped to his waist. She could see he was quite muscular in a wiry kind of way, his skin tanned and dry. She could now see the tattoo on his chest and was surprised by its complexity. There was not only the tiger but also a series of strange symbols around it. The whole thing seemed quite mystical in its way. As she walked closer, she was suddenly surprised by a group of men that ran out from behind the columns that supported the gallery surrounding the garden. She cried out:
"Hey! Be careful, there are ..."
Before she could finish, the first one had reached Jacob. However, while she expected the man to hit him, Jacob stood up with lightning speed as if uncoiling and grabbed him by the hand, throwing him in the air with ridiculous ease. The next attacker came on, but the bearded man simply side-stepped him, grabbed him and sent him to the ground. More and more assailants poured in and tried to master him, but he was like flowing water. With simple, innocuous movements, he defeated each and every one of them, never stopping in the flow of his attacks. Soon, the first of the attackers gave up.
Finally, he stood there amid his fallen enemies and bowed to them. They got up, groaning and equally bowed to him. He said:
"My pupils, you are progressing nicely. I am impressed. Soon, you might be able to become my equals. Continue your studies."
They bowed again and shouted "Yes, Master!", before leaving.
Ruth waited until they had gone and said:
"That was amazing. How did you do that?"
"There isn't much to it. It is a technique I learned in the Far East. It is quite powerful, as you can see, but only as long as your opponent relies merely on his own strength."
He stretched and sat back down, motioning her to do the same. She was a little uneasy with kneeling on the wooden floor and looked out for a chair. He noticed her gaze and said:
"Of course. I'm sorry." Addressing the emptiness, he said: "Pavel, would you kindly get me a pillow?"
The machine replied from the rafters:
"Yes, Master." With a series of clicks, a rail extended across the courtyard and the boxy machine-servant appeared, holding a large and comfortable-looking pillow. He set it down next to Ruth, who sat down.
"Thank you."
"My pleasure, Madam."
The machine disappeared again. Ruth watched it as it clicked away and asked:
"What is all this? What are you up to? When were you in the Far East?"
Jacob smiled behind his beard and said:
"That were quite a few questions. To answer them in all briefness: This is the house of the Master. It is both a fortress and a temple and it is the place where the new world will be born. This is also the answer to your second question: I will build a new world order, full of prosperity and justice for all. For this, I will need your help. And about the Far East: A few years ago, I took a longer trip there. It was quite eye-opening. I would recommend you to do the same, but there's a lot of work to do now."
-
"A new world order?"
"Of course. It has been a period of transitions and it is now time to build a foundation for a new truth. The emperors have failed us, the communists are destroying themselves, the republics are faltering. Also, none of them are understanding the most important power in the world: Belief. Believe in your victory and you will vanquish all that is before you."
Suddenly, he returned from his mystical explanations and was Jacob again. He asked:
"Also, do you like the outfit? I wasn't sure whether you'd prefer pants. If you want some, just tell Pavel. I've had some made to your size."
She took a moment to realize to whom she was talking now and another to accept that her counterpart was either an accomplished actor or a split personality.
"Those are fine. Thank you. A little martial, perhaps."
"But they have to be. We have to look the way, otherwise, they won't believe us when we act."
"What are we going to do then?"
"A new world order is like a birth. It is painful and starts with the pain of labor." He was the Master once again. "We are going to attack the world. Only by showing our superiority can we prove that our way is the way of history."
"But ... another war? Wasn't the last one enough?"
"Which one is the last one? The World War? The Russian Civil War? The Chinese Wars? The Wars in Arabia? Just because the United States didn't fight in it doesn't mean there was peace. Also, I am quite sure the next war is brewing. A Second World War. Bigger and more brutal than any before. So yes, there will be war. War against the world. Our war."
He got up.
"Are you ready to help me? One final move against the chaos and a new world for all. You have seen what we have done here: Wealth and plenty for all. New technology and comfort. A true sense of prupose. This will be our legacy. For all times."
She looked at him and couldn't help agreeing. Time and again, humanity had failed at peace. Maybe this was the way. Somehow, she knew she wouldn't go back to her misery.
"I'm in. What can I do?"
-
This reads like a type of alternate reality. Can't quite place the time or location but that doesn't matter. It flows well and I enjoy that you're able to flesh it out with details without bogging it down. :thanks: and looking forward to more!
Thank you. It is an alternate reality story. It branches off at the beginning of the great depression in the United States. I hope it'll go where I want it to.
____________________
Over the next weeks, Ruth grew accustomed to her new environment. There was so much to do! As Jacob's assistant, she had to coordinate his dates, prepare a daily press review and set up statistics to provide him with an overview of the whole operation. There was a large pool of other young people who did a lot of the typing, but she was the connection to the organization's head. She soon realized how enormous the whole thing was. There were the farms and factories, the bases in international waters and the numerous assets that were being traded on the stock markets. There was the militia, which incorporated every man and woman, there was the army and the elite guards with their masks and silver stuff.
She also had to meet the people in command. There was Joe, the hulking bodyguard, Doctor Almalik, the head of research and development, Francis, the factory manager and Arturo, the farmer master. There were others too, but these were closest to her in the first weeks.
One day, she was chatting with Norma, one of the typists, when the phone rang. She got up, left her to her work and straightened her skirt. After a while, she had decided on a very elegant outfit that showed off her figure while also maintaining the martial and authoritarian flair. Her uniform look was much better done than those of the typists which sort of increased her perception of her own power. She enjoyed it.
She picked up the phone:
"You have reached the Master's assistant. How may I help you?"
"Ruth? It is the Master. Do come in, we need your opinion."
She felt her chest swell with pride, somehow slowly forgetting that Jacob had once been a skinny boy with dirty knees whom she had easily wrestled into the mud so many years ago.
She walked in, bowing down before approaching the table the men were standing at. The Master was in the middle, next to him were Joe and Doctor Almalik. The dark-skinned man looked even more elegant in his uniform. There was also another man, whose bearing was quite martial. The Master said:
"Thank you for joining us, my pupil. This is Great Journeyman Velasquez. He is the commander of the elite guards."
The man did a perfect bow, taking her hand and suggesting the slightest of kisses. He was a dashing gentleman, although his looks were marred by a set of horrible scars that distended both his right eye and his mouth.
"It is a pleasure."
"The pleasure is all mine.", she replied. "How can I help you?"
Jacob pointed at the charts and maps on the table.
"Would you mind taking a look and tell us whether there are any problems?"
She nodded and looked at the information. After a while, she asked:
"What is this supposed to be? A prison break?"
The Master looked triumphantly at the others.
"Indeed. As you have correctly deduced, we are going to free several people who have decided to speak against their oppressors. It is the right thing to do."
"How are you going to prevent a massacre?"
"How so?"
"I'm not certain, but I think it would be hard to get people out while under fire."
"We will kill the guards." The Great Journeyman interrupted.
"I saw that. I think there might be a simpler way."
The Journeyman snorted:
"Well, then tell us, mistress strategist."
Ruth shrank away, but she caught Jacob's eye. She took courage and a deep breath and said:
"Here's my idea ..."
-
"Herb! Herb!"
"What is it?"
"Can't you smell it? What's going on?"
The younger warden came in. The old man was sitting at the table, smoking and doing nothing, as usual. The only thing he actually contributed was his permanent griping and his endless complaints. Herbert hated him. Still, he was right: There was a certain smell in the air. When he came in, it hit him. He asked:
"What the hell is this? That's terrible!"
"I don't know. It just started a few minutes ago."
"Maybe there's a problem with the sewage. Call the services!"
Herbert tried to take shallow breaths as the stink increased. He walked over to the phone, gave it a spin and waited until the switchboard operator answered.
"Give me the city services. There is a sewer leak at Ransdell Prison. We need some help."
"I'll connect you."
Seconds later, a man answered:
"Yes, sewage treatment services, Tanner speaking."
"This is Ransdell prison. There's a sewer leak here somewhere. The stink is horrifying. Can you send someone over?"
"Certainly. It'll take some time, though."
"Make it quick. The smell is horrible."
"We're doing our best."
"Do it quicker. I'm going to be sick!"
"Calm down, sir."
"Quick. Now."
"Right away."
A few blocks from the prison, Jacob put down the phone. He was himself once again, somehow managing to fool his alter ego's followers. He gave Velasquez a thumbs-up sign. Ruth, who had posed as the switchboard operator, adjusted her nurse's outfit, then she climbed into the ambulance car with Jacob.
Minutes later, four cars pulled up in front of the prison gates. The first was a dead ringer for the official sewer service car, the second was an ambulance, the third was an official-looking vehicle from the department of correction and the final one was a prisoner transport bus.
The plan was under way.
-
>:D
-
"So, who are all these people?" The warden looked at the visitors angrily. The stink was getting on his nerves. It was now so bad his eyes were tearing and his nose was running. An identification was thrust in his face.
"Warden Richardson? Franklin Harris from the department of correction. We received the warning from the sewer department and we've decided it would be best to evacuate the prison until the problem is resolved."
"Evacuate the prison? Are you mad?"
"Not at all, warden. Also, I would prefer you to guard your tongue, you being a warden and all. We're going to transfer the politicals to McKinley's, while your staff guards the regulars until it clears up. We're sending a troop of builders that will set up a temporary holding area over there." The man in the suit and hat pointed at a nearby field. He added: "I suggest we work quickly. The doctor will have to check on the personnel and the inmates to make sure they don't suffer any ill effects. Got it?"
"To McKinley's? The poor devils. They'll regret this place, even with the stink."
"I see we understand each other." He paused. "Well then, let's get to it."
As the smell intensified, the inmates were brought out of the building and forced to kneel on the field close by. The guards, armed to the teeth, were clearly nervous. They were outnumbered at least twelve to one. Jacob calmly checked every inmate's health, assisted by Ruth who did her best to look professional. She noticed the looks in the eyes of the prisoners, but forced herself to remain strong. For now, their plan was working.
Finally, the check-ups were finished and the political prisoners were being loaded in the transport bus. Meanwhile the "sewer workers" poured a neutralizing agent over the chemicals they had sprayed from a plane last night and dug a few holes to check on the sewer pipes.
When the bus was loaded and ready to leave, Velasquez returned to the warden and made him sign a stack of paper. The man was in full swing when his assistant tugged his sleeve.
"Herb, can't you see I'm working?" He gave him an angry look. "Wait a second, I'm almost done."
"It's just that, sir ..."
"Shut up. I'll be done in a moment." He finished the paperwork and said: "Now. What was it?"
Velasquez stepped in, stuffing the documents into his briefcase and said:
"Just a second, warden. Thank you for your cooperation. We'll return the politicals as soon as the stink is gone."
"Oh, you can keep them, Mr. Harris."
"Have a nice day, warden."
He nodded and turned to Herbert.
"What?"
"It's just that, sir, my uncle works at the sewer department."
"Fascinating. We could have called him directly. Too bad we're already done."
"No, it's just that ... Those people, they're not doing this the right way."
"That's they're problem, more work for them."
"No, I mean they haven't shut off the inflow. They can't fix it that way."
"Why would they do that?" Slowly, the penny dropped. "You mean they're impostors? Is this a prison break? Stop! Stop!"
Joe hit the gas and drove the bus on the road. Velasquez' car followed suit. However, the doctor and the nurse suddenly started running, jumped into the ambulance and took off, just as the sewer workers dropped their tools and clambered on their vehicle.
The warden ordered the available guards to the motor pool.
Seconds later, they were in hot pursuit.
-
And now, after a short interruption, here's the next part:
The ambulance was the last car in the impromptu convoy. Jacob drove it, putting the pedal to the floor and doing his best to keep the rather unbalanced vehicle on the road. Ruth clung to the handrail and tried to stay calm as the car roared over the dirt road. Suddenly, they heard the shots of the officers striking the car's back. Jacob said calmly:
"Tell me, Ruth, can you shoot a gun?"
She held tight and answered:
"My uncle showed me how. But it's been a while."
"You'll have to try, then. Here you are."
He reached into his doctor's coat and pulled out a revolver. He gave it to her and added:
"I hope you're left-handed."
"I'm not."
"That's too bad. Just try to hit something."
She rolled down the window and leaned out, watching as her nurse's hat flew off. The pursuers fired another volley of shots. She ducked back in, waited a few seconds, then leaned out again, aimed and fired.
The gun went off with a sharp bang. She was surprised by its kick, but aimed again, fired and quickly emptied the drum into the pursuers' car. To her satisfaction, one of the bullets found its mark and hit the windshield, causing the driver to swerve off the road. She returned inside and asked:
"Do you have more bullets?"
"In the glove compartment."
She opened it, emptied the cartridges on the floor and reloaded. Before she could shoot again, she heard a sharp bang and the ambulance began drifting to the right. The whole car seemed to become unstable. She screamed:
"What happened?"
Calmly, Jacob worked the steering wheel:
"They hit a tire. We'll have to stop or else we'll crash. Hold on!"
Using the brakes and the gas, he managed to stabilize the vehicle for a few precious moments and steered it off the street. The car flew over the roadside ditch, thundered through the fence and plowed through the plantation that bordered the street. The car shivered and shook, but Jacob held on tight and managed to stop it. They scrambled out and started running, Jacob leading her to a close-by barn.
"Come on, we've got to get away. They're not going to ask questions."
-
Thanks for the white-knuckle episode and congrats on 1000 posts :rock:
-
Thank you. I didn't realise this at first. 1,000. Awesome!
-
I just wanted to say I've been quite enjoying the story so far--looking forward to what comes next!
-
Jacob pulled open the door and held it for her to slip in. Once inside, she released her skirt's hem. She sighed:
"Next time, I'll wear pants."
"Let's hope there'll be a next time."
He led her inside, pointing to a ladder.
"I think it's best if you hide up there. I'll try to handle them. If anything goes wrong, use the distraction and run."
"Shouldn't I stay and help you?"
"I don't think that's a good idea. You don't have any training. It might hurt you more than it would help."
"How about the gun?"
"Do you still have it?"
She looked around.
"It must have stayed in the car. This was stupid. I'm sorry!"
"Don't be. Get up there."
She climbed up, careful to keep her skirt about her legs. There was no point in being vulgar. She hid in the rafters and watched him as he hid next to the door.
Seconds later, she heard people running outside, approaching the barn. She could hear the older warden shout:
"Surround the building. Don't let anybody out! Shoot on sight. Herb, you're with me."
"Okay, boss."
The door opened slowly, the silhouette of the warden appearing in the dusty air. Jacob held his breath. Ruth tried to keep as silent as possible. The warden stepped in, carefully setting one foot in front of the other. He waited to get his eyes accustomed to the darkness. Herb followed him inside. They walked in and turned around to check behind the door. That was when Jacob was upon them. He grabbed the warden's arm and twisted it in some weird fashion that made the grown man scream like a little girl. The older man dropped his gun. Jacob threw him at the younger warden, then charged the entangled pair. With fists of iron, he knocked the thickset man to the ground and took the young one into a lock. At this moment, he realized that two other men had entered the room. He jumped back, vaulting behind a stall as the pair fired their shotguns at him. With supreme willpower, he managed to suppress the need to cry out. The two men reloaded. Jacob attacked. His first blow sent one of them flying, then he landed a monstrous kick in the other's face. Ruth stared open-mouthed at the display. The second man was out cold. However, the fight ended suddenly when Herb pointed his shotgun at Jacob and said:
"Nice boxing. What was that? Savate? Shadow boxing? Anyway, put your hands up. You're under arrest."
Jacob looked at Ruth and made a short sign for her to leave. She nodded, but decided otherwise.
With an audible crash, Herb went down. Jacob flew around and found Ruth lying on top of the young man. He was knocked out, having been on the receiving end of Ruth's knee.
The young woman was down and hurt, the five-yard-fall had been a bit much. Still, she stumbled to her knees. Jacob wanted to say something, but instead made a sign for her to be quiet. He picked up the shotgun and turned to the door. Suddenly, he shouted with a voice that sounded like the older warden's:
"Come in, men, we've got them."
Supporting Ruth, he led her into the shadows next to the entrance. The men came in. Somehow, he managed to make his voice come from the box he had fled to.
"They're out cold. Help me, will you?"
As they walked in, unable to see in the gloom, he quickly stepped out, leading a silent but aching Ruth to their car.
Seconds later, they were on the road.
-
On the road again... :D
-
They rode in silence for a while until Jacob finally spoke:
"Thank you. You really saved my life."
"Don't thank me. I just did that without thinking. I wish I could have done more."
"It was perfect. How is your knee?"
"It still hurts."
"When we get back, I'll have a doctor take a look at it."
"Good." She looked out of the window for a while, then asked: "Where did you learn all this? This fighting, the voice, everything?"
The sun was going down slowly and he said:
"You wouldn't believe it."
She smiled:
"Tell me, come on. I saved your life. I deserve to know."
He nodded and said:
"Fine. Here you are: Remember when I left home?" She nodded. "I joined a traveling circus."
"Seriously?"
"Sure. I took care of the animals, cleaned up after everybody, learned some acrobatics, some knife throwing, some comedy. I also learned how to be a ventriloquist. That's what I did just then."
"I never would have expected you to be the entertainer."
"Me neither. I just didn't want to join the army. So I skipped town."
"And then?"
"We arrived in Paris and I decided I would do something else. I met a few guys from Indochina, I worked as a cook and they showed me some tricks. Later, I actually went there and trained with some masters."
"I want to learn that. And I want to learn how to shoot."
"Really?"
"Absolutely. Next time, I want to be ready. I want to be able to fight."
Jacob nodded.
"Perfect. I'll get you a trainer. If you're willing to risk a few bruises, you'll learn quickly."
"I'm in. Also, there is something else ..."
"What?"
"I want a fitting outfit. If I'm going to be part of this weird operation of yours, I need to look the part."
"I understand. I'll send Oliver to see you. He's my tailor."
"You have a tailor?"
"I am the Master. I have to be masterly, don't you think?"
She grinned.
"I like all this already."
-
"Mister President, here's a case that will need your attention."
"I'm all ears, Director."
The thick-set man walked up to the desk and waited.
"Please sit down, Director. Walter, could you get us some coffee? Thank you."
The agent started:
"We have a new threat. It's still small, so getting to it now would allow us to quell the danger right now."
"Do I want to know?"
"You might. In this economic climate, it might become important soon."
"What is it, then? Communists, Jews, the Mafia? All at once?"
"We're not sure yet, but it might be. Right now, it looks more like a sect to us."
He pulled a folder out of his briefcase and laid out several photographs. The President examined them one by one and asked:
"This is some kind operetta cult. What are they up to?"
"We don't know yet. However, our possibilities are limited right now. These people are armed, they are fanaticized and they are able to act. We assume they orchestrated the prison-break four weeks ago. According to our informations, they are preparing a new coup. If we act now, we can stop them."
"Then do so."
"Well, we would need several special permissions to circumvent some legal problems. After all, the bill of rights applies to everyone, even to fanatics and monsters."
"I see. I will talk to the necessary people. Meanwhile, I want you to keep an open eye."
The broad-shouldered man got up.
"We always keep an open eye. Thank you, Mr. President."
-
Ruth dropped onto the bed. She was hurting all over. Getting thrown to the ground time and again by her trainer had bruised every part of her body. Running around for hours had made her tired. Lifting weights had made her arms feel heavy. She could still feel the gun's recoil in her wrists. She had spent the last weeks training like a berserker. Jacob had suggested that it would take three to six months to bring her up to speed. Somehow, she believed he had had more time. For now, she was wondering whether it had been such a good idea. She was really surprised by the food they were now serving her. Steamed vegetables, fruit and chicken. Since none of the warm food was salted, it tasted rather bland.
She had noticed a few changes: Somehow, she had gotten stronger and her body had become more wiry. She was unsure whether she liked it. She didn't want to look like a laborer. Also, right now, she was all tensed up. It didn't feel good. Time to do something:
"Karel, would you mind giving me another one of your massages?"
Above her, the machine emerged and lowered itself down to her. Gently, it helped her undress and then began kneading her aching body. Once again, she was surprised by the subtlety of the machine's touch. Instantly, she felt relaxed. The machine asked:
"Should I prepare a bath?"
"Please. Karel, you're a godsend."
"Thank you, mistress. I am glad to be of service."
The machine continued its ministrations, then said:
"The Master has requested you for dinner. There is to be a presentation of the next year's plans. He has added that he requires full attire."
"I see. How long have I got?"
"Three hours, thirty-two minutes, forty-five seconds."
"Good."
"Would you like to take a nap after the bath? I could wake you when it's time."
"I'd be grateful."
"Noted. You will be woken ninety minutes before the event."
The tension-releasing fingers retracted. Ruth pondered the possibilities. Would that machine have other uses? Maybe help her overcome the problem she was facing in this isolation? She wondered whether she should ask.
She shook her head and went to the bathroom. Time to enjoy the warm water and th bubbles.
-
Other uses... :funny: hmmm
-
In the evening, Ruth got back up as Karel gently called out for her. She looked at the machine and said:
"Thank you."
"Shall I prepare your clothes, mistress?"
"Please."
"Right away."
She stood up, went to the bathroom and checked her make-up and hair. She had had a haircut when she started training. Her wavy hair looked young and cheeky. She smiled at her reflection and returned to the room. She slipped out of her nightgown and looked at her body. It was odd. The training had changed her stature. She still had wide hips and soft breasts, but she now also had strong legs and arms. Also, her tummy had turned flat. It was fascinating, but completely unusual.
-
Sorry, I got interrupted.
Even at the height of the fitness craze, twenty years ago, women were not supposed to look like that. She had seen pictures. Even the strongwomen from the circus didn't look this way. She shook her head. Time to get dressed, there wasn't much time.
Minutes later, she walked out and disappeared into the large door. Jacob, no, the Master had called for all his seconds-in-command. The talk would be broadcast by radio and by this odd invention Almalik's people had come up with. It was like a projector for movies, but you didn't have to use film rolls. He called it television and it was impressive. She had seen some of the shows in her apartment. Walking by the saluting guards, she felt even more powerful. It was the outfit, she had to admit. The long black leather boots, the dark gray riding breeches, the black leather jacket and the high collar, even the long leather gloves, all of this radiated strength and power. With her new, shapely body, it did look quite impressive. She had decided against wearing a hat. After all, this was a new world, so breaking the mold would be a good idea.
She stepped up to the other lieutenants and waited for Jacob. For the Master.
-
Amidst the cheers of the masses, the Master walked onto the podium and greeted the listeners.
"Thank you. Thank you. I am deeply grateful for this reception. Pupils! Disciples! Brothers and sisters! A new dawn has come. A dawn that will shine a light on a new future. We have seen this country fall to pieces. Poverty is in the streets. Armies are on the march. Conflict looms. The world is in turmoil. It is a time of great danger, but also of great possibilities. Possibilities that we will have to grasp if we are to teach this world a way to a better future. My disciples! I have taught you, you have learned. We have built this place of plenty for us. A country where we can live in peace and prosperity. Where each one of us can learn to be best at what they do. This is a blessing that all of humanity should have. Let us work together and bring humanity the Paradise it deserves!"
The cheers drowned his words. The Master spent the next minutes basking in the glory. Jacob smiled at the camera, then said:
"Our operations have brought freedom to the oppressed. We will continue our work. We will expand it to defeat those organizations that exist to keep mankind crushed under the boot of authority. We will conquer this country today and tomorrow ... The World!"
There was a hysteric ecstasy of the masses. The Master made blessing gestures and left, signaling his assistants to come with him. They filed out as the next part of the celebrations began.
Once inside, the Master turned to them and said:
"We will begin striking against the intelligence services. My goal is to keep them occupied while our current project is being finished. I'm looking forward to your ideas."
-
The new secretary was just finishing her typing and pulled out paper from her typewriter. She removed the duplicate and triplicate, filed them and put the original in the out-folder. The assistant director walked over and checked the letter. The secretary hammered away at the next piece. He said:
"Excellent. Good work."
"Thank you, sir."
"The background check has come back and you are cleared. Make yourself comfortable, there will be a lot of work for you."
"I'm looking forward to it, sir."
Ruth smiled at the gaunt man with the bulbous nose and returned to her work. Being Clara Reynolds was surprisingly simple. The young woman was always demurely dressed, never raised her voice and wore her hair in a bun. She also wore glasses and had a sort of mousy posture. The Master's agents had done their best to create her persona so as to be completely different from Ruth's true nature. She had volunteered for the operation to spy on the Bureau's work on the Master's organization and she was astonished by the thrill of it. The recruitment process had been hard. Time and again, they had checked her background, there had been several interviews and she was quite sure they had even asked the people Jacob had set up as her parents.
All in all, she enjoyed the spy game tremendously.
Once she was done, she packed up her things, said goodbye to the assistant director and to the head secretary and walked out. Summer had come, it was hot and there was no wind. Still, she had to wear the long-sleeved dress. She had to conceal her shape so as not to give herself away. After all, she did what she could to maintain her new body, she even tried to improve it. Her "parents" were pensioners and did what they could to make her life easier. The mother was a bit distressed about her diet, but she resigned herself to cooking this weird food without taste or texture. The father, on the other hand, had built a gymnasium for her in the house's cellar. There, she continued her exercises. By now, a series of hard bumps had turned up on her stomach. It was clear that those were muscles. She spent a lot of time touching them and wondering what this was supposed to do. Also, her body had become more sinewy, with the occasional vein appearing under her skin. The fact that she could now lift more than she weighed and that she was able to shatter a board with her fist gave her a lot of confidence.
As soon as she was home, she greeted her "parents" and went upstairs to wash and dress in more comfortable clothes. She missed Karel. His touch had greatly helped her relax. Next, she disappeared into the cellar to do her training routine and wire today's information to the headquarter. The upcoming raid would find nothing. At the same time, the organization would strike the Bureau's archive and attempt to steal it. If not, destroying it would be a second option. She wondered what the project behind it all was. Jacob had kept quiet about this.
-
Day after day, she continued her routine. By now, she was feeding false information into the Bureau's system turning their attention to other organizations. She was aware that there were several infiltrators in its ranks who were doing what they could to disrupt its workings. Soon, they would have caused enough problems to send the system on a wild goose chase after its own tail. She smiled as she typed.
Suddenly, she felt the assistant director's hand on her shoulder.
"Miss Reynolds ..." He must have wanted to continue, but instead, his hand started working her shoulder. She turned to him, extricating herself from his probing grip.
"I'm sorry, sir. What can I do for you?"
He looked at his hand in confusion.
"It's nothing. Go ahead."
"Of course, sir."
He stood there for a few seconds, staring blankly into the void. Then, he walked back to his office. Ruth cursed under her breath. Had he noticed it? Probably. She wondered what consequences this would have.
That evening, she sent a message to the Master, asking him for advice. The answer came quickly.
"Try to stay on your post. Avoid their attention, we are almost ready."
She was unsure whether she would be able to manage.
The next day, she was very careful to pass unnoticed. When closing time came, she packed up her things and made ready to leave. Just as she was putting on her coat and hat, she heard the assistant director.
"Miss Reynolds, do you have a moment?"
"Sir, I am ... I have an appointment."
"It won't be long."
She shivered at the thought of what this was about. Had she betrayed herself? She cursed her pride and her wish to be strong. She had hoped he wouldn't notice. Running away was out of the question. She would show them there was something wrong. She had to buy some time for Jacob. Then, when everything was done, he and his followers would help them.
"I'm coming, sir."
-
Aw, I don't think she has to worry about him finding her out, I think he prolly just liked what he felt and got a stiffy over it :funny:
-
She came in and looked around. The office was a spacious place, with a large, robust desk and a pair of comfortable chairs. There were some file cabinets, a portrait of the President, a few bookshelves. Rather normal furniture for an office. The assistant director walked to the cabinet and said:
"I have to tell you that I am very happy to have you here. Over the last weeks, you have done a lot of good work. I am impressed. Normally, our secretaries need much longer to get up to speed."
"Thank you, sir."
"You can call me Clyde. At least after work."
Ruth was interested what he was going to do. There had been rumors about him and the director at the office. She smiled.
"I will ... Clyde."
"Very well, Ruth."
She stood around for a moments, unsure of what to do.
"So, how can I help you?"
"Well ..." He hesitated. "When I touched your shoulder, I couldn't help noticing ... something."
"Something?"
Let's have him say what he wants, she thought.
"A sort of ... muscle. Are you a sportswoman?"
"I do a bit of training on the side. To stay healthy. Nothing much."
She managed to hide her grin. By now, she was easily lifting her own weight, sometimes even more. Nothing much, indeed.
"Excellent ... Would you ..." His voice trailed off. She took the initiative.
"Show you? Wouldn't that be ... inappropriate?"
"Don't worry. I won't say a thing."
"I can show you. Of course. But wouldn't you prefer to find out yourself?"
She could see his arousal and smiled invitingly. Maybe the Bureau wouldn't be so much of a challenge after all.
-
The assistant director came closer and stood in front of her. Gently, he undid the first button of her blouse. She smiled at him as he started on the next and put her hand on his hip. He gave her a strange look. She set down the empty glass in her other hand.
Finally, the blouse was open and she let it fall to the ground. He stared at her powerful chest and shoulders. She obliged and whispered:
"Come on, you may touch."
He gasped and laid his hand on her muscular shoulder. She smiled and added:
"Give it a squeeze. I know you want it."
She felt his fingers dig into her shoulder. She concentrated and made it hard and strong. The look in his eyes became deeply lustful. She asked:
"Want some more?"
She lifted her arm and contracted her biceps. It became big and hard. Instantly, the assistant director switched to it.
"It's so hard. How did you do this?"
"I told you, I do a bit of training." She decided to try something different. "Since you like this, how about that."
With these words, she flexed the muscles in her abdomen. The strange ridges appeared and formed a kind of grid. He almost salivated and dropped to his knees. Ruth couldn't help grinning.
"You may touch it."
She felt his groping hands on her stomach. It felt weirdly exciting.
"May I ... kiss?"
Her grin turned malicious.
"Not yet. First, you have to prove that you are faithful. After all, we don't want any traitors, do we?"
"How can I prove that? I'm the assistant director."
"Swear allegiance to my muscles."
He grinned, clearly amused by her demand and lifted his fingers while laying his other hand on his heart.
"I pledge allegiance to the stomach, and to the muscles that stand under it; one stomach rock-hard with liberty and justice for all."
They had to laugh. She gave him a dirty look and said:
"You may now kiss the stomach."
-
:woohoo: total control :woot:
-
Suffice to say, the operation's effects improved tremendously. Using her manipulative tricks, Ruth managed to drive a wedge between the director and his assistant. After all, the younger man didn't want to be caught at his game. Instead, he spent a lot of time and money to impress her.
When she came in to the office a week later, he was already waiting for her. He had laid out an outfit for her and prepared a folding screen. She walked in and grinned at him. She asked:
"This?"
"Please. I would be very glad."
"Very glad?"
"Delighted."
"Much better."
She took the clothes. They looked bizarre, as if taken from a pulp novel's cover. They probably were or at least inspired by them. She wondered where he had bought them. She had let him measure her, so this was probably the result of it. She had been astonished. The strength training had really changed her body. It was now much tighter and harder. She liked it, but she was still uncertain about it. Still, time to show off.
She disappeared behind the screen and stripped. Then, she slipped into the outfit. It was very tight and made of leather. The thing consisted of a kind of large strip of black leather that ended in a collar on one side and a crotch-piece on the other. The black leather was slit in the middle and had some black gauze in this "window". It's back consisted of a long leather strap that could be attached to the collar. It also included a set of straps that spread the front part over her chest. There were also some long black opera gloves and a pair of very high, very tight leather boots with pointed toe-caps. Finally, whoever had constructed this outfit had added a black belt and a very comfortable fur-trimmed black satin coat. She also found a riding crop to go with it.
Astonishing.
-
"Clyde?"
She stepped out from behind the screen, feeling powerful and, simply put, incredible. The boots gave her a further three-inch-boost. She wasn't entirely comfortable with them yet, but she was quite sure she would eventually enjoy them.
"Clyde, I think it's time you got on your knees."
He instantly dropped down, his jaw having dropped moments ago. He gave her a look of deep lust. She grinned, walked close to him and said:
"I like these clothes. They really bring out a part of me I didn't know. You have an exquisite taste."
"Thank you."
"While we're at it ... Have you read 'Venus in Furs'?"
"You did?"
"I thought I recognised some elements. It's nice to know what you're thinking of."
He nodded:
"I'm glad you feel the same."
"Great minds think alike."
She made him bow down with her crop.
"Good boy."
She waited for a second, then she added:
"Lick the boot."
Blissfully, he did.
-
Dear readers, I am sorry for the current delays, but I am quite busy right now. As soon as it clears up, I will continue. I apologise for this and wish you the best of luck.
-
Ruth smiled. Being in control was a fascinating experience. She interrupted him and said:
"Stop. Now sit."
He stood back up, kneeling in front of her. She grinned and grabbed his tie. She pulled him closer, leading him behind her as he slid along on his knees. He gasped. She stopped, looked at him and saw the massive bulge in his crotch. Her expression turned stern.
"What is this?"
She pointed the riding crop at his crotch.
He stuttered:
"I ... I ... I ..."
She touched the crop against his cheek, pulling him up by his tie. Ruth bent down a little, giving him a close look of her strong chest.
"Clyde, you are not going to do this. I will not have it."
"But ... Ruth, I adore you. You can't ..."
She interrupted him.
"I can. And you will address me as Milady. After all, there has to be a clear hierarchy."
She didn't dare call herself Mistress. After all, there was still Jacob.
"Ruth, I can't ..."
She hit him with the crop. He yelped.
"Oh, my dear Clyde, you can. You can and you will. And if you do, you will be allowed to caress and kiss my body. If you don't, well, you'll have to do without. It's your choice."
He gasped. His crotch bulged even harder than before. Ruth knew she had him where she wanted him. Power. It felt wonderful to be in command of such a weakling.
"Get rid of this. Now."
He gave her a weak look. Slowly, he managed to fight down his erection. Had she thought "erection"? What was happening to her?
-
Uh-oh, she thought "erection" :funny: Tough to fight that down :D
-
The next weeks brought strange changes to the atmosphere at work. Ruth noticed that the relationship between the assistant director and his boss deteriorated. She couldn't help smiling as his secret began slowly grinding him down. The flow of information was gently being diverted, there was always some kind of tension in the office.
In the evenings, she contacted Jacob and told him the news. The answer was clear and simple:
"Stay on it and prepare to strike."
Ruth continued training, strictly keeping to her schedule. She missed the actual combat drills, but she practiced by hitting the sandbag her "father" had bought. It felt good to hammer away at it and she could feel the sweat flow from her body during these sessions. When she showered after this, she was exhausted but happy. She could feel her body become firmer and tighter. It was odd to watch her muscles grow slowly and steadily. At the same time, Clyde became ever more eager to please. By now, she could make him do tricks. He'd sit, lie down, roll and even fetch. He had insisted on buying her more outfits, each one more extravagant than the last. She wondered where he had them made. After all, a tailor would have started asking questions if a resolute bachelor like him turned up every other week to request an ever more outrageous costume. Still, she decided not to ask. Instead, she sometimes found herself practicing her show in the cellar. She'd stand there in one of the costumes and tried the various inflections of her voice. She was quite impressed, even though her "parents" seemed a little shocked by her antics. Still, they were loyal acolytes and did as they were told. Sometimes, she found it hard not to order them around too.
Then came the day when Jacob sent her the order to strike.
She took the bus to the headquarter, entered through the security gate and entered the telephone exchange room as ordered. She installed the device he had sent her, then continued to the mail room. Once again, she placed one of the little cylinders, then walked to her place. She knocked at Clyde's door and was called inside.
Show time.
-
She walked in, her heels clicking on the wooden floor. She had taken to wearing higher and higher shoes and had opted for four inches today. Also, she had raised her hemline a little, showing her well-trained calves. Clyde looked up:
"What is it, Clara?"
Clara. That was her cover name. She had told him she preferred to be called Ruth when they were alone, because she wanted to keep her private life away from her professional one. The deception had been simple, but effective.
She closed the door behind her, then walked over to his desk. She leaned forward, showing her well-trained cleavage. She whispered:
"Clyde, there's something going on."
"What is it? Tell me!"
"I just noticed something in the mail room. It could be a bomb."
"A bomb? Here?"
"I'm not sure. It was a kind of cylinder. I don't know what it ..."
She was interrupted when the phone rang. Clyde picked it up.
"What is it?"
"Sir, there's been a new development."
"What?"
"Our agents in Cuba ... They reported ..."
The caller was cut off. Clyde looked at the receiver. He was confused. His thoughts seemed to become slower and slower. Ruth opened the small case she had brought and pulled out a weird suit. Slowly, holding her breath, she took off her shoes and started slipping into the outfit.
Clyde choked and gasped. He dropped on his desk, drooling. She pulled the hood over her head and fixed the gasmask. Then, she picked up her shoes and stowed them into her case. She pulled a cord on the suit and it tightened around her body.
Time to take what she could and leave.
-
???
-
She could see her now former co-workers collapse and drool. She gently pushed one of the other secretaries to her side so she wouldn't choke on her food and watched as the paperwork rotted away. The gas was a highly potent agent that destroyed any paper it came into contact with. It would seep through the small openings in the archives and destroy all the records the Bureau had assembled. At the same time, it would also affect the minds of the people who worked here. Most of them would forget what happened over the last few months. This would give Jacob the necessary freedom to finalize his strike. Ruth walked out of the building and pulled off the suit. She felt a bit woozy. Then she calmly put her shoes back on and walked to the gate. The guards nodded to her as she left the building. They'd know it was her, but she didn't really care. A new identity was already waiting.
When she reached the old people's home, the man and the woman were already done packing, their car loaded with all their belongings. She went inside, picked up the bags that held her stuff and walked outside to the second car. Jacob had it delivered here. It was a very fast, very black car that shone in the sun. She put her bags into the trunk and returned to carry the training equipment into the vehicle. She didn't even break a sweat. Finally, she returned one last time to get out of her "civilian" clothes. After all, she enjoyed her newfound power way too much to stay in this mousy look.
The old people had just driven off when she emerged again. She now wore her high boots, the riding breeches and the jacket. She smiled as she jumped inside the car, hit the starter and let the engine roar. She lowered her goggles and hit the gas. After all, she had a flight to catch.
-
A few hours later, she walked on the bridge. In front of her, the tropical coastline spread out. The master stood in the middle of it, wearing his robe and staring at the soon to be conquered island. She could feel the tension. Normally, Jacob seemed to be able to perfectly control his emotions, but now that his grand scheme was on its way, she realized he was nervous. Somehow, it made him human, although he still seemed aloof.
The operators were busy adjusting the controls of the huge airship and coordinating the approach of the enormous airfleet. She was surprised how many of these dirigibles Jacob had at his disposal. The machines were surrounded and protected by swarms of airplanes that would intercept any defenders. At the same time, the demonstration of power should have been enough to discourage any resistance.
"Master, I am back from the capital."
She stood to attention, her arms folded behind her back. The smaller airplane that had brought her on board had been an open topped affair, but she had managed to adjust her outfit so as to appear presentable. She made a mental note to learn how to fly herself. It seemed like the modern thing to do.
"Excellent, my student. I am glad your operation was a success."
"I think our enemies are blinded for now."
"Very well. They blinded themselves long before we even attempted to take their sight. They believed in pointless recording and the research of patterns where there were none. They fooled themselves."
"In what way?"
"They believe in an underlying order and law of the universe. It exists, but it is not as mechanical as they think. They have no notion of the wild eddies of reality."
Ruth nodded. She had no idea what he was going on about. Maybe she'd ask him in private. Maybe it was just his show again. He added:
"Don't worry. History is in the making and it is time to give the world a stir."
-
The wind was blowing through the trees in the New England mansion's garden. After a plentiful meal, Colonel Jacob van Rothe had retired to the salon with his guest. His wife and daughter were busy taking care of the dishes and the men enjoyed the view through the French door. He showed one of the chairs to the Captain and said:
"Have a seat. We need to talk."
The young man sat down and reclined. Martha's cooking had been wonderful. It had been some time since the officer had enjoyed such perfect hospitality.
"Cigar?"
"I'd love to."
The old man handed him the box.
"They're Cuban. Enjoy them as long as you can."
"I know. I guess this is why you invited me."
"You're astute. That's what I was looking for."
They took their time to light the cigars. Then, the old man continued:
"You have read of what happened in the papers: A madman, calling himself the Master, has invaded Cuba and set up his regime. We wanted to instill a rebellion, but most people are happy. Turns out the man is a genius. He also has huge factory farms in the Midwest."
"In the Midwest? I never heard of that."
"We're trying not to get this out too far. After all, we don't want to risk a civil war. Given the state the economy is in."
"I see. So, what are we going to do about it?"
"I'm glad Major Lewis recommended you. I like the way you talk. Scotch?"
"Scotch."
After a short pause, the Colonel said:
"I've got to be honest: we're out of money. The economic crisis has emptied our pockets. The President is doing what he can, but we couldn't finance an expeditionary force if we wanted to. The fact that the Master managed to destroy most of the Bureau's data and archives means we'd be going in blind."
He took a puff of his cigar and blew a smoke ring.
"So here's our plan: If you're in, you'll get a small group of elite soldiers, a budget, some technicians and scientists and carte blanche. You do what you have to do and you end this threat, no questions asked. Are you in?"
The young man took a sip of the scotch and said:
"I'm in."
-
"Excellent. I knew you'd be the man we'd be looking for. Another glass?"
"With pleasure." The young officer held out his glass and asked: "So, how are you going to call the operation? It'll need a name after all."
"Headquarters want Operation Magnificence. You can call your group whatever you like. Think about it, then send me a memo. I'm good with whatever you come up with."
Suddenly, the old fox turned to the door and said:
"Why don't you come in? It's not appropriate for a young woman to eavesdrop."
The Colonel's daughter walked in. She seemed embarrassed. The Captain couldn't help noticing that she was tall, blond and very good looking.
"What is it, Gladys?"
"Sir, I have a question, Sir."
"Go ahead."
The young woman stood straight, further emphasizing her height. It was clear that the Colonel had always hoped for a son. Her bearing was professional and quite military.
"Sir, I would like to join the operation, Sir."
He gave her a confused look and exchanged glances with the Captain.
"Why in God's name would you want to do that?"
"Sir, I want to help my country, Sir."
"Haven't we talked about this already? The military is no place for a woman. We decided you would have a nurse's training and that would be enough."
"Sir, I beg you pardon, but as you say, harsh times demand harsh measures. I've been training all my life. I think I would be a great complement for this unit, Sir."
The old man turned to his guest.
"I am sorry for this."
"Don't be." He turned to the young woman. "You say you trained all your life."
"Sir, ever since I was a little kid, Sir."
"What did you train?"
"Sir, shooting, riding, driving, flying, sports, fisticuffs. You name it, I've done it. Sir."
"Really?"
The old man seemed embarrassed by this.
"Let's not jump to conclusions."
"No, let's. Shall we have a match?"
"Sir, what kind of match, Sir?"
"I don't know, some shooting, a race and a short fistfight?"
"Sir, with pleasure, Sir!"
The old man seemed exasperated. What kind of strange dreams had he planted in the poor girl's head?
-
Poor girl my arse >:D
-
The shooting range lit up. The Colonel had it set up for his retirement and for occasional practice. It was fully electrical and even had moving targets. Constructing it had been a two-year-project and it had become his pride and joy. The Captain was still in excellent spirit and joked on the way to the range. He seemed not to take the whole situation seriously. Gladys had exchanged her dress for a set of long, light pants and an airy blouse. She also had arranged her long hair in a tight bun. She asked:
"Shall we?"
"With pleasure. What do you want to try?"
"I'd say pistols at 25 yards, then rifles at 50 yards and finally pistols at running targets."
"You do seem to know what you are talking about."
She frowned:
"I try to."
The Colonel was now visibly annoyed and decided to get this over with. He said:
"Positions. Be careful and do not get hurt."
Gladys opened the box she had brought and quickly assembled two handguns. Every movement was intuitive. She handed one of them grip first to the Captain. He examined it, impressed by the quickness of her movements. Maybe there was more to her than he first thought. On the other hand, women had a knack for handicrafts.
She gave him the other gun and said:
"Choose."
"Aren't you going to take a smaller one? This is a M1911. It has quite a recoil."
"I know. Choose."
He slid back the action, took a look at the barrel and settled for one of them. Both guns were immaculately kept. Whatever he thought of her, she was as clean as she could be. He smiled to himself. Excellent marriage material.
They took up their places, loaded the guns and the Colonel said:
"Whenever you are ready."
The air filled with the bangs of the guns.
-
"I must say, I am impressed."
The Captain stood next to the young woman and stared at the paper targets. She had easily surpassed him with the rifle and the moving targets. Only with the handgun had he managed to hold up. He made a mental note to spend more time at the shooting range. The fact that the moving targets had not been regular bull's-eyes but rather silhouettes of men and that she had firmly planted several of the bullets in its head and chest had impressed him further. He felt a little humbled. On the other hand, he'd had a few drinks and a long day. He also was unfamiliar with the range. And the guns.
What was he doing? He shook his head in disgust with himself. Trying to justify his failure would only belittle her skill. Instead, he turned to her and bowed.
"Your skill with firearms is only surpassed by your beauty."
She blushed. He nodded to himself. She was a woman all right. A true Madonna of the Trail, if you will.
"So, Captain, when shall we have our race?"
He shot a glance at the Colonel.
"If you don't mind, we should move it to tomorrow. It has been a long day and it is now quite dark."
The Colonel, who was somehow bursting with pride in his daughter, said:
"You are our guest. I am eager to see the race. Have you already decided on the kind of competition?"
Gladys said:
"I thought, maybe a footrace? It seems to be the simplest."
"It's hardly fair, though."
She grinned cheekily:
"For you or for me?"
He nodded:
"A footrace it is, then. I'll call my adjutant to bring me my running shoes and we'll be ready in the morning."
The Captain woke up at night. China again. He had spent the better part of the last decade protecting American interests all over the world, but his time in China had been the hardest. It also had had its good things, he thought back of Jinhua and the time they had spent together. Still, the chaos had been overwhelming. Bandits, Japanese, Russians, Gangsters, you name it, the country had it. He got up. Walking around a little would help him calm down.
He stepped outside in the dark floor and looked for the bathroom. Stumbling about in the dark, he found a room that seemed about right. No. This one had a wooden floor. Maybe somewhere else. He hit his foot on something. The Captain, now wide awake, focused. A dumbbell. He looked for the light switch. When the lamp came on, he saw that this was a true gymnasium. He was impressed. The Colonel had even more money than he thought. On the other hand, the old man did not look like someone who'd exercise too often. Or at all, for that matter.
He switched the light back off and went back outside to find the bathroom.
-
Girls with big "guns" :woohoo:
-
When the morning came, he found the parents and their daughter waiting on the sidewalk in front of the house. The Colonel and his wife were still trying to convince her to stop this. The young woman was running on the place where she stood and was spinning her arms, apparently to warm up. She wore the same outfit she had worn yesterday, this time completed by a pair of stable shoes.
He stepped outside and wished them a good morning. The Colonel's wife answered:
"Good morning, Captain. Could you please try and convince her to stop this? It is unbecoming for a young woman to do such gyrations in public. Also, she should not do such horrible things." She turned to her husband:
"Jacob, why couldn't you just let my little girl be a girl? Why did you have to turn her into such a tomboy?"
The Colonel was annoyed by her grievance and said:
"Emily, I tried. She won't listen. What can I do?"
The older woman stared at him in despair and started to cry. The Captain could see that the whole display was making Gladys uncomfortable and he said:
"Well, Mistress van Rothe, in the military, there's a saying: 'If it's going to be bad, get it over with quick.'. Let's try this."
She looked at him with tired eyes as he asked Gladys:
"So, what's the route?"
"We're going to go cross-country. Here's a map."
She handed him a folded sheet of paper.
"I asked Geoffrey, our butler, to draw this for us. I don't know the route either, but I know the terrain, so this is going to put me at an advantage."
"You're going to need it, if you want to keep up. Still, it's fair of you to tell me."
"I'm not going to insult you by offering you a head start, Captain."
He smiled:
"Thank you."
The Colonel embraced his wife and said:
"Let's get this over with, shall we?"
"Certainly."
They took up positions. He waited for a moment, then said:
"Ready ... Set ... Go!"
They ran off.
-
The Captain ran off. He knew from experience that the best way to loose a race was to look back at the competition, so he just concentrated on running. He had taken a look at the map and knew roughly where he had to go. He'd follow the street for a few minutes, then turn left into a dirt road, then through a small forest, over a few fields and then back. He'd have to look at the map then. There was some brook in the way and he'd have to find a way of crossing it safely. He ran on, his feet pounding on the gravel. He was quite sure he had left her behind by now. He was quite tall, so he'd be able to use the length of his steps to gain a further advantage.
He reached the dirt road and passed the corner. The Captain decided to slow down a little so as to conserve his energy. After all, the ground was rather unstable and he didn't want to slip or fall. During an operation in Chengdu, he had twisted his ankle on a flat stone as he was scrambling for cover. He had managed to shoot the machine gunner that was suppressing his column, but two men had to carry him back after his fall. It had been a case of bad luck, but he had become cautious.
The dirt road ended and he entered the forest. Instantly, the air became cooler. He felt refreshed, at the same time, his sweat began to cool. He ran on, keeping his pace. There was a small trail through the woods. He concentrated on skipping any low branches or roots. He had to slow down a little and keep an eye on the ground. Suddenly, from the corner of his eye, he saw someone approach from the back. He looked up and just saw Gladys overtake him. He blinked. This wasn't happening.
The young woman had taken it easily. She had given him time to familiarize himself with the environment and had just chosen her own pace to reach a speed she could keep up for hours. She knew she was at an advantage, but she hadn't expected to overtake him so soon. The cold air in the woods gave her a sting. She smiled as she passed him, then concentrated on maintaining her pulse. After all, there were still a few obstacles before them. Still, she was quite proud of herself. She had been active all her life, but over the last few years, she had intensified her training, running, lifting weights and sparring with Geoffrey, a former marine. She had even read the books by Eugene Sandow and Charles Atlas and had incorporated their ideas into her training regime. Her father had silently accepted this development. After all, he had always wanted a son and she was somehow fulfilling this wish. She had tried her best to keep this from her mother, asking Mary, the maid, to let out her clothes whenever they became too tight for her growing body.
She left the forest and vaulted the fence that separated it from the nearby field. The farmers wouldn't like it to see her run through the freshly sowed furrows, but she didn't care. The next fence came, once again, she jumped over it. The next ones would be made of barbed wire. Those were a bit trickier. She damned the fact that she had to wear the wide shirt and pants. Tighter clothes would be so much easier to handle, but society had its reasons.
Behind her, the Captain could finally recover his speed. With a burst of power, he jumped over the fence and crossed the field. Another jump, and he was closing on her again. He was impressed. The blond woman kept up her pace and cleared the obstacles with perfect ease. They had been no problem for him, but he hadn't expected her to be so good at this. Still, he was ready to pass her. With a jump, he threw himself over the barbed wire, leaving her behind. She had to use the post to get over it, so he won precious seconds. Time to gain ground. A glance at the map showed him that a hill was next, then the brook and then, some open ground to finish it. That was doable.
-
The climb turned out to be harder on him than he thought. The grass was slippery with dew and the mound was steeper than expected. Also, he realized that years of work and the last months of good eating had taken their toll. He was surprised. Normally, he should have expected his lungs to work at their best, after all, he smoked a pack a day. This should clean out any noxious particles. Still, he fought on. He vowed to start training again more regularly. At half the height of the hill, he could feel his lungs burn and his body ache. He hadn't slept too well in the last years and all the fighting probably took its toll. Just as he was slowing down, she passed him again. He was amazed. She ran like a machine. Perfectly calm, keeping up her rhythm. No sudden changes, no sprinting. She just kept up her speed and climbed the hill without losing any speed. He was astonished. Of course, she was now sweating all over, but she soldiered on. He did what he could and forced himself to keep up with her.
They reached the top of the mountain roughly at the same time. Suddenly, she turned to him and smiled right at him. Her cheeks were read, her body was glowing and glistening with sweat. Only then did he realize how young she had to be. She was in her late teens, probably. No older than eighteen. He nodded to himself. A good age to fight a war. Maybe he should consider her. She might not be actual soldier material, but no one was before first seeing a fight. Sometimes, you needed someone who was more experienced to show you the ropes and she was serious about it. He'd have to think about it.
They started their descent. Below them, the landscape spread out. New England had its beauty. The Captain had to slow down not to loose his footing. He stayed calm. He'd catch up with her once the ground was even once more.
Gladys ran on. She just had to smile. She had fought and won during the hardest part. The hill was hard. She'd have to scold Geoffrey for this. The old man had had her train that part forever, sometimes even with a fully loaded backpack on. Still, overtaking the Captain at this moment felt like a triumph. She just had to finish this and be done with it. She could feel her body beginning to ache. That was normal. She'd be tired in the morning, but she was literally running for her life now. The life she wanted to live. It was odd. Her father had brought her up to be a soldier and now that she had her chance, he wouldn't let her take it. She couldn't help shaking her head.
-
The pair was now entering the final part of the race. Gladys was first right now, but the Captain was in hot pursuit. He had summoned his last reserves and was now fighting to catch her. They reached the brook and Gladys suddenly fell into a sprint. She could feel her body drain if its energy as she gathered speed. With a desperate jump, she threw herself over the small stream and flew through the air. She landed awkwardly, rolled and got back up again. The Captain stared at the rising amazon and almost fell into the creek's ditch. He dropped down, jumped from one stone to the next and crossed the waters. Climbing back out again on the other side, he was now sweating profusely, every part of his body hurting from the strain. He stumbled out, struggled to get to his feet, managed to get back up and started running again. He found his pace again and sped after her.
Gladys ran and ran. Her shoulder was hurting, her clothes were sticking to her skin and she was thirsty. She knew she was almost done. She just had to keep up for a few more minutes, then she would be home safe. She'd win. She'd beat him. The idea gave her a jolt of power. She struggled on. Her feet started to hurt, the shoes clearly not perfect for such an exercise. She could hear him pant behind her. He was close. She knew she shouldn't, but she desperately wanted to win. She decided to push herself further and increase her speed. She knew it was stupid, but she was angry at this whole situation and she just wanted it to be over.
He could now see that she was struggling as badly as he was. He saw she had now increased her speed and he realized that this was a bad idea on her part. He decided to slow down, to conserve the last remains of his strength and wait for her to overdo it. Instead, he moved into her slipstream and waited for her to tire.
Unsurprisingly, she began to slow down as the finish line came into view. He could see she was pushing herself more and more. He feared she would hurt herself. Still, this was the moment he had waited for. Summoning the very last of his reserves, he went for a final push.
The young woman could feel the exhaustion. She suddenly understood she had made a mistake. The Captain was slowly overtaking her. She fought as hard as she could, but this was the end. The finish line was right in front of her and she could see him passing her. With a final push, she tried to catch up with him, but it was too late.
They crossed the line within two yards of each other. The Captain almost collapsed at the end, while Gladys gritted her teeth in frustration. She managed to hold back her tears and shook her head.
Once they had recovered enough to speak, the Captain said:
"I am impressed. I didn't even think you'd finish the race, but you almost beat me."
"It was a tactical error."
"That's all you can say?"
"Also, congratulations. That was impressive."
"Quite a race, yes. Whoever came up with the course must be some kind of a sadist."
"Absolutely, he is."
Her parents looked at the sweaty pair in confusion. Neither of them had expected their daughter to accomplish what she had just done. They both began to have serious doubts about their erstwhile opinion. Finally, the mother recovered enough to hand them both towels and usher the contestants into the house to take a shower.
As they walked inside, Gladys said:
"Let's do the third part in the afternoon, unless you're too tired."
The Captain blinked. The fistfight.
-
Intense... but what fortitude! :clap:
-
Gladys' mother begged her to reconsider. Her father was somehow embarrassed by the whole situation. The Captain could see how he tried to find a way out of this mess. Gladys, on the other hand, insisted on the fight. After all, it was now a tie. She had won the shooting competition and would have triumphed in the race if he hadn't managed his forces, so she saw her chance to win.
The Captain was conflicted. He didn't want to hit a woman, even if she asked him for it. He also didn't want to fight right now. He was tired and busted. The race had actually taken its toll and he was now seriously exhausted. Of course, he couldn't let this become apparent, so he shook his head and said:
"Miss van Rothe, I have to insist on not fighting. It is not acceptable for a gentleman to strike a woman, even in sport."
She stared at him blankly. He saw that she was devastated. She had fought hard for this chance and now he was denying it to her. He could tell she was both disappointed and angry. Suddenly, she took a big step forward, stood up straight and said:
"You are aware that I would have beaten you in our race. It was a miscalculation on my behalf, I lost my temper."
He gave her an evasive look. She came even closer:
"You will not deny me my chance to prove my worth. I want to fight for my country and do my duty. You are an officer, it is your duty to risk the lives of your soldiers and to calculate the risk. You have seen what I can do. Can you honestly accept not to fight me and get a glimpse at my skill?"
He had to admit he was a little surprised. Somehow, he had expected her to provoke him or even to cry. Instead, she had challenged him. He nodded slowly.
"I get your point. Well, you'll have your wish. We will fight. What do you have in mind?"
"Pankration."
"What?"
"It's ancient Greek. You fight with all your might. Everything goes, except for biting and eye gouging."
His mouth dropped open.
"Are you serious?"
Her mother interrupted.
"But Gladys, dear, you can't just do this! You could get hurt!"
"Mother, I will, but so will he!"
"Why can't you be more of a woman? Why do you have to do such horrible things?" She turned to the Colonel: "This is your fault, Jacob. Couldn't you just accept her as a girl?"
The old man suddenly burst out in anger:
"I will not tolerate this. If our daughter wants to fight to be happy, she will."
His wife stared at him, but remained silent.
The Captain recovered and said:
"Fine. Where do we start?"
The young woman smiled and said:
"Behind the house. I'll be ready in a minute."
-
The Captain warmed up in the backyard. He did his best to loosen his limbs and recover his flexibility. He was wearing his undershirt and some wide pants. He had taken off his shoes and socks and stood in the sand, testing the ground for any unevenness. Satisfied, he took up position opposite the back-door and waited. There was some indistinct shouting coming from inside the house. The parents were apparently just getting angrier. Somehow, he was happy he had resisted at first. Then, finally, the door opened.
-
Sorry for the short part, I will continue soon. Something came up. Happy new year to all!
-
And Happy New Year to you as well and thank you for your continuing stories :clap:
-
She walked out in the afternoon sun, wearing a sleeveless shirt and a pair of tight pants. She had bound her hair into a big tress, then twisted it on itself and fixed it in a bun. As she walked on the sand, stepping out of her soft shoes and took up position.
"Let's fight."
He nodded and went into the basic boxing stance.
"Are you ready? You can still back out if you prefer."
She sneered:
"Hit me with your best!"
He was reluctant at first, but she suddenly advanced on him and sent a flurry of blows at him. He had done a bit of bare-knuckle boxing in his time, but he was surprised by her recklessness. He twisted and evaded her blows, but she managed to land a hit on his shoulder as he hunkered down. It stung a little. Only now did he realize that her body was odd. Not only for a woman, but for any person. The Captain was a large, brawny man. He had the big muscles of a laborer or prize-fighter, with a solid layer of fat on him to give him a big frame and the weight to pull off his fights. The young woman, on the other hand, had a weird physique. It was hard for him to find a word for it. She was clearly well-trained, her muscles thick and strong. However, she was also quite thin, which meant that they were easily visible under her skin. As he looked at her, he couldn't help being reminded of an artist's model, though not necessary a female one.
In this moment, her fist hit his cheek. He was called back to reality as she hit him again. He got his guard back up and blocked her onslaught. She ducked and weaved, evading his defense and closing in to strike him again.
The Captain realized that his opponent was dead serious about this fight and changed his stance accordingly. This was not a friendly boxing competition or some kind of play-fighting. The young woman wanted a real challenge, she'd get it.
He evaded her blows, amazed by her speed and strength and ducked in front of her, then grabbed her. He stepped into her guard and lifted her, using his superior height and weight to render her defenseless. Instead, she clapped his ears. He barely managed to turn his head and prevented the worst, but he was surprised by the reaction. Most regular soldiers or street brawlers would not have thought of this. He held her fast and began squeezing her.
The Captain was dimly aware of the parents shock as he tried to force the air from her lungs. Suddenly, the young woman slung her legs around his torso and locked them behind his back. Then, she squeezed herself. He gasped as her vice-like grip enclosed his abdomen and made him throw up a little in his mouth.
He released her and she rolled expertly on the sand. recovering into a defensive stance. He had to end this soon.
The young woman had already decided to attack again and lunged at him.
-
hardcore no-holds-barred :)
-
Losing his balance, he dropped on his back, catching himself with his elbows. He tried to get back up, but she climbed on top of him, twisted him around and put his head into a lock. He struggled to get on his knees, trying to break her hold and get some air. In the end, he decided to use his only advantage. She was quite a bit lighter than him, so he tensed his feet and jumped up with a grunt.
He could feel his muscles ache as he landed on his feet, his opponent now hanging from him and unable to put her strength to use. He widened his stance, grabbed her and lifted her above his head. She growled angrily, dropped sideways and slung her legs around his arm, toppling him sideways.
Gladys landed in the dust. She tried to hold him down , but he forced himself on her and looked at her in fury. He was about to unleash a flurry of punches at her face when he suddenly hesitated. She seized the opportunity and slung her powerful legs around his waist. Then, she squeezed. He gasped, unable to respond.
She didn't let up and instead continually increased the pressure. He put up his hands, grabbed her face and would have done something he'd have regretted if the young woman's mother hadn't intervened.
She threw herself between them and shouted:
"Stop! Don't fight. Please. You have proven what you wanted."
Both the Captain and his opponent breathed deeply as they recovered. Finally, he turned to the parents and said:
"Sir, Madam, I believe it would be a shame if we were to pass on someone like your daughter to defend our nation. I would be very glad if you were to allow her to join."
The parents nodded with stone faces.
The young woman, on the other hand, could barely conceal her joy. The Captain, however, said:
"As far as I'm concerned, you're in. But you'll still have to go through basic training. Got that?"
"Sir, yes, sir!"
-
Good thing her ma jumped in there to keep her from thrashing him :woohoo:
-
"Our troops are mopping up the remaining defenders, but I think we'll be able to avoid a siege. The American fleet has already withdrawn and we have bombed the navy while it was still in the harbor." Journeyman Velasquez was beaming with pride. "The operation was a full success."
The Master smiled enigmatically. He said:
"That's excellent. Set up the distribution network as we have planned. We have to act quickly. It is time to win the hearts of the people."
The guardsman nodded and acknowledged the order, but had to add:
"Master, may I suggest you move to the Presidential Palace? You are in the open. It is dangerous."
The bald man adjusted his robe and looked around. The municipal park was in full bloom. Several people were watching the bizarre spectacle of the black uniformed guards standing around a little confused on the gravel paths. The Master asked:
"Since I am not the President, why should I go to the Palace?"
"It's safer."
"That depends on who you're asking. I wouldn't be surprised if a group of hitmen or loyal officers wouldn't be already storming the building. No, I guess I will stay here. After all, this isn't an invasion. It's a liberation."
"If you insist, Master."
"I do. But please, if it makes you more comfortable, leave a few guards."
"I will, Master."
"Very well. By the way, I will meet the heads of the Church, the political leaders and the American entrepreneurs tomorrow. I think Ruth has rented an office for this. Be nice and check whether it is safe."
"Of course, Master."
"Well then, go on."
The confused soldier left as quickly as he could. An old woman approached the robed man sitting in the grass. She looked down on him and asked:
"Are you the one they call the Master?"
"I am. Is there anything I can do for you?"
She stared at him and fell quiet.
"What will happen to our country now?"
"It depends on what you want. The future is yours."
"But I am old. There isn't much future left for me."
"We will see. Maybe I can help you."
-
In the lobby, two tough men with linen suits and straw hats were waiting. Benny "Catch" Feyn took out another cigarette and lit it clumsily.
"Joe, do you see what these fuckers are about?"
His associate, "Slugger" Joe Kane, made a gesture telling him to pass another cigarette and answered:
"I don't fucking know. They just appeared in their fucking zeppelins and now they want to talk to us. Their messenger-boy said they've got a plan for us."
"I don't like no plans for us that ain't ours to plan."
"You said it, Catch, but you know how it is. The boss said, find a way, so we find a way. Can't have them fucking black shirts screw up the whole enterprise."
The door opened and a uniformed man walked out. He looked at the mobsters and said:
"The journeywoman will see you now."
"Journeywoman? We was told we would talk to the fucker you call the Master."
"Yes. Tell him, Slugger."
The man in uniform nodded and said:
"So I am to tell her you won't see her?"
The pair exchanged looks and thought of what the boss would do to them if they screwed this up.
"We're coming."
"Very well then."
They walked into a large office and faced a big window made of several panels. There was a big desk and three chairs. Behind the desk, there stood a tall woman in a black uniform. She looked at them, then said:
"Come in, gentlemen."
They sat down in front of the desk and tried to distinguish their host against the light. Ruth mustered them. She could see they were confused and intimidated. She smiled and said:
"I am the Master's assistant. Whatever you say to me, you say to him."
Benny Feyn grinned, covering his fear:
"Good for you, Missy. The boss he says ..."
Before he could finish, she hit his face with her crop.
"I prefer Milady."
The man held his face, his expression a picture of anger. This broad was playing tough. He nodded slowly.
-
:woohoo: like to see where this may go...
-
"As I was saying, Milady, the boss says that your Master is not to fuck with him and his business if he don't want to be fucked over. The boss knows how to make people hurt."
Ruth nodded mockingly.
"So do I. Well, the Master said that in the world he is creating, there will no longer be any need for your work."
"Is that so? What world does he live in? Our business is the most human of all. We sell what everybody needs, but few people get."
"I am aware of that. However, the Master offers you a chance."
"A chance? How generous of him." He turned to his companion. "Sounds like your mame, eh, Slugger. Always offering a chance."
"Oi, Catch, don't talk about my mom."
Ruth grinned. She walked around the desk. The mobsters could now see her riding boots and she felt the weird mixture of fear and lust that rose in them.
"Gentlemen, we are not here to talk about your family, although I am sure you're making your parents proud." She stood straight in front of them. "No. Here is your chance: Take it or leave it. You will end all your criminal activities over the next year and you will integrate the emerging structures."
"Emerging structures? Are you going to raise some ships?"
"I ain't going on any hulks. Nope, not me."
"No, you misunderstand. We're going to set up something new. You can help or you can suffer."
Feyn nodded.
"Now I see. Good."
Joe said:
"De froy is meshugge. Vos meynt ir bolebos dos mir sint?"
"Moch dir keyn druk. Vir zogn jo, deriber wel baschlisn der schef, wos mir weln mochn. Es wel kumn morgn a last wofn mit zelner. Do werd sein ariber de komedie."
Ruth did her best to hide her understanding.
"So, what do you say?"
"You've got yourself a deal, Milady. We will reduce our activities and help you set up your own if needed."
He held out his hand.
"Good. Your word of honor?"
"Yes."
They shook hands. Benny was impressed by the strength of her grip. What were these people feeding their women?
After they left, Ruth sent a messenger to Jacob and called Velasquez to get her a troop to welcome the nightly cargo and the troops.
-
Gotta ask for a translation on that last bit. Looks like Dutch?
-
"The woman is crazy. What does her boss think who we are?"
"Don't stress yourself. We say yes, then the boss will decide what we will do. Tomorrow, a charge of weapons and soldiers will arrive. Then this comedy will be over."
It's Yiddish. Trying to be authentic here as good as I can.
You are right, though. It's very similar to Dutch.
-
Thanks for that, makes for an interesting morrow...
-
Night fell quickly. The harbor was quiet. Most fishermen had decided to anchor their boats away from the main port, a simple precaution to prevent being bombed again. The initial assault had sunk the few ships the national navy had ready and chased away the American fleet. The broken hulks of the ships were still stuck in the harbor, but the fires had already been put out. There was talk of towing the remains out as soon as possible, but right now, ships had to dock at a makeshift pier that had been quickly set up by the Master's engineers.
Ruth had deployed a group of guards near the pier, all of them armed with submachine guns and light armor. Behind them, on the embankment, she had set up a machine gun nest that would allow for a quick retreat should anything go wrong. Meanwhile, her troops waited in the shadows of a rock off the shore. The troops wore the black and gray camouflage for night fighting and also had life-vests on. She sat with them in the rowboat and checked her gun. She had opted for a Mauser and had familiarized herself with it over the last days. Still, she felt a little insecure about what was going to happen.
Some of the guards were veterans of the various wars that had broken out after the Great one, but most of them were just well-trained amateurs. As far as she had found out, the troops were at least experienced gangsters and at worst professional mercenaries. She crossed her fingers and hoped for the best.
The ship was now approaching the harbor. It was a large cargo, slow, but quite enormous. Ruth made a sign at the troops and they started to slowly paddle the boat towards their target. She could see the lights of the ship now. Soon, it loomed over them. One of the guards stood up carefully in the boat, pulled out a grappling hook and threw it over the railing as the others steadied the vessel. He then climbed up, followed by the next one. Then, he dropped several lines and the crew quickly clambered up along the overhanging ship's side. Ruth pulled herself up. She was still surprised that she was now able to easily climb a robe, even without her legs. She reached the top swiftly.
The other guards had taken up position behind a few crates. She looked around and found the pilot's cabin. With a quick gesture, she ordered the troop to move there. She went first, sneaking over the deck. They evaded the looks of the sailors and climbed up to the cabin.
Ruth stood on the side of the door, then opened it swiftly and pointed her gun at the steersman. With her left hand, she made a sign for him to keep quiet. The burly man put up his hands. She forced him on his knees and gave him a good whack with the butt of her weapon.
So far, so good. Now came the hard part.
-
"Fuck this! What the hell is going on?"
"Stomper" Joe Gold pointed his torch at the shadows. He had his browning in the other hand and aimed at the silhouettes he had spotted for a second. His followers had readied their guns and covered him.
"Come on you fuckers! Come out and fight!"
There was no reaction.
"Fine. Lev, Mike, you go left. Take your boys with you and smoke them out. Marv, Nate, you come with me."
The mercenaries advanced quickly, setting up a pincer attack on their assailants.
Ruth aimed her gun, signing her guards to do the same. Just as their enemies emerged in the open, they opened fire. One of them fell, struck in the head. The others dropped to the ground, turning around to face the ambush. Guardsman Maldetto, who had acted as a decoy, jumped down into the water.
Suddenly, Stomper stood up, lifted the Thompson submachine gun he had taken from one of his fallen allies and unleashed a roaring volley at the guards.
"Charge! Break their bones!"
The mobsters howled and ran up to the wall under the cabin, using the blind spot as cover. Ruth realized what was going to happen and ordered the guards to spread out. She understood that her guards were nowhere as ruthless as their enemies. Quite a few shots had missed and most of them had failed to act immediately on her order. She had hesitated herself. She cursed her weakness. She'd have to find a way to fix this.
Instantly, the mercenaries were on them. While the other guards managed to gun down the attackers, Stomper attacked Ruth directly. He had dropped his empty gun and pulled out a switch knife.
-
She ducked under the first strike, dodged the second one, but got cut by the third. She gritted her teeth, the burly man advanced on her and hissed:
"Come on, woman, let's dance."
He feinted at her, she blocked his arm with her hand, he punched at her with the left, she rolled away, he was on her, she rammed her feet in his stomach.
Stomper struggled to his feet, breathing heavily. He picked up the knife as Ruth cursed herself for not instantly following up.
"You're nice. You know a bit about fighting, but you do it like someone who learned how to swim from a book."
She attacked him, trying to get on his offhand side. He just bobbed and weaved, evading her attacks.
The other guards fought in the background, hard pressed to rid themselves of the remaining mercenaries.
Suddenly, Gold attacked, pushing her to the ground.
She stared in disbelief as he slammed into her. She hadn't expected this and just hadn't reacted. She grabbed his hand, trying to get his knife away from her. He pushed on mercilessly.
"If you go to a knife fight, you're going to get cut. But trust me. I like a good opponent. I'll kill you quickly. I'll even get you a fine funeral."
She could feel the knife's tip pierce her clothes and scratch her skin. She had to do something quickly. With a sudden moment of clarity, she pulled up her feet, wrapped them around the big man's waist and squeezed with all her strength.
The months of training had paid off. With a sickening, squelching sound, she tore up his innards. She could feel the knife cut her, she saw his eyes go wide, his tongue fell out, he stared at her.
"What have you ..."
His voice trailed off, his strength faded. Finally, he fell down on top of her, burying her. She struggled to remain conscious.
-
By the way, I am currently extremely busy and will soon be able to continue, but right now, I'm completely swamped.
Expect an update soon.
I am very sorry for the delay.
-
"Twenty four ... Twenty five ... Twenty six ... I think you can stop now, Miss." Gladys finished her set of pull-ups with ease, then dropped down on the ground. The big man next to her was impressed. He turned to the Captain:
"Sir, if all our recruits were this tough, we'd have no problems at all."
The Captain nodded. The young woman had easily outperformed any expectations he had. She had negotiated the obstacle course, had learned to field-strip the weapons blind-folded and had even gone through the one-week-wilderness survival class without any grumbling. She had been almost dead at the end, but this was normal. The Captain replied:
"Sergeant Newman, I trust you haven't spared her anything."
"I did everything like I always do. Just because she's a woman doesn't mean she gets any special treatment. This isn't kindergarten."
"Excellent." He turned to the young woman. "So, recruit, do you feel ready for action?"
"Sir, yes, Sir!" Gladys shouted her answer, her face glistening with sweat. She had her hair twisted up in a tight bun and stuffed in a cap and wore the standard fatigues. She had modified them a little to fit her figure, but all in all, she didn't look much different from a regular soldier. Her muscular frame had leaned out a little, but she had also acquired a certain ferocity.
"Excellent. Sergeant Newman will take you parachuting. Then, you'll do amphibious training. It's all on a tight schedule, but since administration is taken its sweet time providing us with support, we can cram in a little more experience into this."
"Sir, thank you, Sir!"
"Take a break. The sergeant will fetch you when it's time."
"Sir, yes, Sir!"
The young woman saluted and did an about face, marching off to the barracks. Her presence at the base had caused a stir at first, but the Captain had shut down any comments. Instead, he had let her actions speak for themselves. The following admiration had vindicated him.
-
Thanks for the update! Wonder if there will be a match between Ruth and Gladys ;D
-
Of course! History demands it.
-
A few days later, the Captain summoned the entire unit to the briefing room on the base. All in all, there were two dozen men and Gladys. The troops had been recruited from various units, some of them even from allied countries. Apparently, the Colonel had pulled some strings to get the other allies involved. For the Captain, this showed how serious the top brass took this "Master" character.
The show he had given on Cuba had been proof of his skills. He had quickly destroyed the American ships and had secured the population's support with quick reforms that actually improved their lot, while at the same time avoiding to cause too much of a stir in the traditional structures. Also, his troops had eliminated the Kosher Nostra's enforcers and forced them to regroup.
All in all, these people were grimly competent and it was necessary to stop them. The fact that the Bureau had lost most of its archive and thus was unable to pinpoint how vast the organization was made the whole situation even worse.
The Captain walked to the lectern and put down his notes. He looked around and looked into familiar faces. This was a good team. Elite and efficient. They would bring this enemy down.
"Good morning. Now that the paper soldiers have finally done their job, we're ready to get ours done. The mission is simple. Step one: Find out what this 'Master' wants. Step two: Find his weak spot. Step three: Stop him."
There were a few nods. He continued:
"The first order is to infiltrate his structures and collect information. You will be split into teams of six and parachuted into the areas. There, you will find out how many troops he has, what their training is and what equipment they have. The government doesn't want to get involved since they don't want to risk a civil war. They might move in once everything is clear, but don't expect much backup. You're pretty much on your own, so act on your own accord. You have two weeks. Don't get caught, we will deny any connection to you. Any questions?"
The crowd was silent.
"Excellent. Good hunting, everybody."
-
"So you're the woman everybody is talking about?"
The young man with curly hair smiled. He was quite nice to look at, but had a large scar that started on his chin and went down to his chest. Gladys nodded:
"That's me. Gladys van Rothe. Nice to meet you. And you are?"
"Sergeant Grant Washington. It's funny to see how the Captain desegregated the unit all at once, don't you think?"
He pulled out a cigarette and offered her one. She refused.
"Thank you, but I'm not supposed to."
"No problem. It's just a habit you pick up against the stink. Also, I hope you don't mind serving with a negro like me."
"If you don't mind serving with a woman like me."
"Miss van Rothe, if all the women were like you, we would have to be desegregated the other way round."
One of the other soldiers walked up to them and said:
"Washington, what the hell are you doing? You can't just start sweet-talking this woman."
"I ain't sweet-talking no one, O'Hara."
The huge Irishman looked down on them and said to Gladys:
"Be careful with this one, Miss. He's an intellectual. He was a student before he joined the outfit. He'll talk your head off and then your clothes."
Washington gave the big man a scowl as Gladys blushed. The huge redhead laughed and said:
"Don't worry, he'll behave himself, won't he?"
Before he could reply, the other three members of their team arrived. The first one was a blond athlete with an eye-patch, the second was a slightly thickset balding man and the last one was a rather wiry white-blond man with watery eyes.
The thickset man said:
"Okay, everyone, I got our assignment." He wanted to start when he realized he hadn't introduced himself. "By the way, I'm Lieutenant Oswald, this is Corporal Yorkow", he pointed at the pale man, "and Corporal Hamilton." The introductions now complete, he opened the file.
-
"We are to parachute at the headquarters of the enemy organization, acquire local clothes and infiltrate it. Our goal is to assess their economic and military power. You will all receive a fake identity which you can use to enter the ranks and a small communications system which will allow us to stay in contact. You will memorize all the facts and only note the absolutely necessary information. After ten days, you leave. Our meeting point is here."
He handed them a map each.
"Those who aren't there then are assumed to be dead. You will also get a cyanide capsule to be used in the event of your capture. It is your responsibility to do the right thing. Everything clear?"
There were shouts of affirmation. Gladys suddenly felt afraid. All the training she had gone through, all the preparation she had done had never led her to think of being captured and tortured, maybe even forced to take her life. She had to struggle to control the sudden panic. What had she gotten herself into?
The other members of the troop seemed to be confident about this. On the other hand, she had realized that they were all veterans and had probably killed quite a few people by now and survived the horrors of war. Keeping up with them would be hard.
She swallowed and forced herself to keep a calm face. This was the life she had chosen, so she had to keep up with it.
-
Hours later, the ground was fast approaching. Gladys was hanging in her harness, her submachine gun strapped to her uniform. She wore the dark gray fatigues they had given her and the soft leather boots she had brought herself. Her butler had recommended her to use them.
She counted to three and pulled the ripcord. The parachute unfurled, stopping her descent abruptly. She could feel the pain hit her body as it filled with air. She slowly floated to the ground now. The area they had aimed for was completely dark. There was no sign of human life, no house, nothing. She looked out for her squad-mates and thought she had spotted one of them in the moonless night.
She suddenly realized that the ground was now quite close and prepared for the impact. She landed, ran off to avoid getting trapped in the parachute and went to the ground. There was no reaction. She looked around.
Gladys had touched down in the middle of a field and was clearly undiscovered. She grabbed the parachute and folded it, soon having a huge bundle in front of her.
As she concentrated, she heard the Russian next to her:
"You alright?"
She nodded before realizing there was no point and whispered:
"I'm okay. You?"
"Perfect. Excellent landing. You did well for the first time."
"I jumped twice during training."
"Training is good, operation is better. Let's collect the others."
He led the way, sneaking through the field. After a few minutes, they had found everybody. The Lieutenant checked on the map using a small lamp, then said:
"We're in position. We split up. The main compound is north of here, so you'll advance in pairs. O'Hara and van Rothe, you go to the factory complex and infiltrate it. Take photographs and find out any data about their production facilities. Yorkow, Hamilton, you take a look at the barracks. Washington, you're coming with me and we'll take a look at the HQ. Tune in at noon."
There was general affirmation and they went on their way after hiding the parachutes.
-
Thanks for keeping up with this one and really fleshing it out. I enjoy your attention to detail and and the way you keep it progressing :clap:
-
Thank you. It's a bit of an experiment, but I have a plan for the entire plot and I hope I'll be able to follow this through.
-
O'Hara loaded up his backpack and asked:
"Do you want me to carry some of your equipment?"
She gave him an irritated look:
"No. Why should you?"
He wanted to say something, then just shook his head and said:
"I guess you're right. Old habits die hard."
"I appreciate you being a gentleman, but that's really not necessary now."
"Got it. Anyway, we should move quickly. The sun will be up soon and I don't want to be caught in the open."
She agreed and they marched on as quickly as they could. Geoffrey had forced her to train long marches fully loaded, but she was still astonished by the difficulty. After all, they had to be quick and discreet.
The pair left the field, then walked along a dusty road, careful to stay out of sight. At one point, a car approached noisily and Gladys instantly dove into the ditch next to the road. O'Hara was impressed by her quickness. He had half expected her to fall into a shock, but she stayed down, then came back out.
At dawn, they reached the main factory compound. O'Hara found a small cabin that was clearly abandoned and hid their equipment there. He said:
"We'll leave this here. We've got to get some local clothes soon. I guess there'll be some kind of uniform, there usually is."
Gladys nodded and took out the dress and shirt the Captain had ordered her to take along.
"Let's look around. We'll meet here in half an hour, best with fitting clothes."
She then stripped out of her uniform, causing O'Hara to turn around with a blush. He asked:
"Couldn't you at least have said something?"
"I'm sorry. I just thought ..."
Minutes later, they were both astonished by each other's look. In her simple dress, Gladys actually looked like a normal young woman. The wide shirt hit her arms and her demurely arranged hair made her look like a country girl. O'Hara had his difficulties camouflaging the fact that he was a huge Irish shepherd at heart. Anybody who saw him would instantly think of soft green pastures braying sheep and baying dogs. She had to hide her smile.
He asked:
"What is it?"
"It's just that you, well, look veeery Irish."
"Well, I am. What about it?"
She grinned and shook her head:
"It's fine. We should get going."
"We should."
"That's exactly what I was talking about."
-
The pair advanced carefully through the morning mists. They hid amongst the groups of workers that went to the factory complex. She was surprised that they were clearly happy and eager to work, even though it was still very early. There was a lot of chatting and one of them asked:
"Are you new around here?"
Gladys hesitated, but O'Hara just said:
"Nah. We just transfered. Other shift."
The man took that as an answer and replied:
"Well, morning shift is hard, but there's worse. I heard we're getting new machines this week. I wonder what they'll do."
The Irishman nodded and said:
"So do I."
They reached the gates talking about the weather and the man bade them good bye, disappearing into the depths of the building.
Gladys turned to O'Hara and whispered:
"That was extremely risky. How did you know he wouldn't recognize that we're not from here?"
"I didn't. But my dad was a worker just like that and he used to tell me that the other shift was always a good place to be from."
She nodded slowly. Still, she was skeptical.
Eventually, they found a cloak room for the workers and switched their civilian clothes for boiler suits. Gladys hid her hair under a cap and stowed the camera in one of the large pockets, then they entered one of the large buildings.
-
Gladys was instantly amazed. Somehow, she had expected the factory to be a dark and crowded place, full of steam and noise. She had to admit that her perception of factories came from books about social causes she had read, which mostly told the situation at the turn of the century, but she never would have thought of this.
The factory floor was open and clear, electric light giving everything a clean and bright look. The machines in there were fully automatic and quietly buzzed along, assembling whatever this factory was producing. She was surprised by how little people were actually in there. She had expected hordes of workers toiling, but no. There were a few of them, but they were clearly only checking whether the machines were working correctly. O'Hara was obviously just as confused as she was. He whispered:
"What is this place? I thought this would be some kind of evil lair from a pulp novel, but it looks more like something out of a science-fiction story."
"I know. What is this place even making?"
As they stood around, one of the workers called out on them from a cupola above the factory floor.
"Hey! You there, are you looking for someone?"
O'Hara turned to her and replied:
"We're new around here and we've been assigned around here. Care to show us around?"
"New? I haven't requested anyone. Well, come up anyway."
The pair climbed up the stairs to reach the cupola. Gladys was surprised by the fact that the woman was the floor's boss and seemed to be very comfortable with it. O'Hara seemed to be slightly confused. He couldn't help staring at both women that were clearly independent and trying to act like men. She could see he wasn't comfortable with the idea.
The other woman held the door open for them and said:
"I'm Margret. I'm in charge of automaton production."
Her two guests nodded vaguely, doing their best not to reveal that they had no idea what she was talking about.
-
"...something out of a science-fiction story..." :D :cool2:
-
Once again, there's a slight hiatus.
I hope you don't mind, I'll try to write some more soon.
Real life is quite busy right now.
-
:thanks:
-
After a bit of speechless staring, Gladys finally managed:
"What do you mean, in charge?"
Margret looked at her benignly:
"You're new, aren't you?"
The young woman nodded.
"It's no problem. When I came here four years ago, I was quite confused too. The Master has been taking matters in hands and my work has progressed nicely, but I can understand it is a little overwhelming. What specialty have you been hired for?"
More confused blinking followed, until O'Hara said:
"We work in textiles. I guess we must have come to the wrong factory."
The woman wasn't convinced. She said:
"Indeed. As I said, this plant makes automata."
Neither of them had any idea what these were supposed to be, but O'Hara played the situation by ear:
"We were thinking of maybe combining the two. Use automata in textile technology. That would be more efficient."
Margret hesitated:
"It does increase the flexibility, but is this really needed in a branch that is actually meant to produce on a large scale?"
By now, the two intruders had lost her completely. Gladys interrupted the musing and said:
"Whatever may come of it, we're in the wrong place, so we're going to leave now. We'd be glad to see you again soon!"
Marget nodded slowly and bade the farewell. Had she actually been given their names?
-
"Oh my God, I was certain she would sound the alarm!"
Gladys was struggling to catch her breath. She had managed to stay calm while they left the factory, but as soon as they were outside, she had begun to shiver all over. The pair had found a private spot to talk. She could see that O'Hara was equally shaken. He waited for a few moments to calm down, then said:
"I almost got us caught. I'm sorry."
"Don't be. I had no idea of what the whole discussion was about. I'm so glad you at least managed to say something."
"Maybe the Captain has been too confident in our infiltration skills."
"I guess that was fine, but getting into a debate with an expert industry technician? I'm happy we even kept up."
As they recovered, O'Hara said:
"From what I understood, this Master seems to be very clever. Think of it: This woman seemed to know what she was talking about. Either he must have trained her himself," he gave Gladys a conspiratorial look which he immediately regretted, "or she is indeed an expert."
Gladys was clearly oblivious to his innuendo and said:
"She probably is an expert. I think I understand how this works. The Master recruits people who are interested in something and are willing to work, but are blocked by society. He gives them a home and a workbench and they do what they do best." She nodded to herself: "Have you seen all the black and Latino people here? The Chinamen? The women? That's what this is about."
"Do go on."
"I'm only glad I managed to convince the Captain. I would have been the ideal person to join this if I had known."
The Irishman looked down on her. It made sense. He had talked to Washington before and this had been is position. He had been willing to join anyone who would let him do his duty.
He said:
"I get it. We'll have to report this as soon as possible. For now, we should be very careful and try to document as many of the inventions around here as possible. If this is a conspiracy of geniuses, we're going to need everything we can."
-
Noon came and found the two infiltrators sitting on the roof of a warehouse. They had retreated up there to get a good view of the place and had spent the morning taking photographs of the various things that were being produced in the factories. Gladys had impressed her partner by swiftly working herself up the building's side, using the minimal handholds it offered. She had then dropped a silk rope from her equipment and he had climbed up. He was surprised to see that there had been no way to fix the rope and that she had propped herself against the edge to support his weight. After apologizing profusely for his roughness, she had told him to just calm down and prepare the food.
At 12 o'clock, they turned on the miniature radio they had carried with them and waited for the other groups to tune in. The first to respond was the Captain. He said:
"Hello lovebird, president, this is headpiece. Radio check. Over."
Gladys looked at O'Hara in confusion, but he just said:
"Headpiece, this is lovebird. All clear. Over."
Seconds later, they heard Hamilton's voice.
"Headpiece, this is president. All clear. Over."
Then followed a bizarrely garbled exchange of abbreviations and specialist terms, at the end of which O'Hara said:
"All clear, over and out."
He took off the headpiece and nodded to himself. Gladys asked:
"I'm sorry, I'm not that used to this radio-speak. What was all that about?"
He smiled and said:
"So far, everything is fine. They haven't been spotted. However, their experience matches ours. This isn't some kind of backwater militia, this is an actual state within a state and it seems to be very efficient at what it does. The Captain has ordered us to go deeper and find actual plans and blueprints of their technology. This is going to be risky."
She grinned.
"I'm in!"
"I thought as much. Let's have a nap and wait for nightfall. This is going to be a break-in, so we should be discreet."
-
At the same time, Ruth was gladly relaxing. She was lying on her bed and felt soft fingers release the tension in her muscles. She had taken a warm bath and now was just about dozing off. She mumbled:
"This is incredible. Thank you very much. Where did you learn to do this?"
The chubby woman next to her smiled and directed Karel's robot arms to another part of her body. Her "victim" moaned with pleasure. The woman answered:
"I learned it in India. After leaving university, I continued my studies there. Actually, there wasn't much structure to it, but I enjoyed the time there. I wanted to improve on the psychology ideas of Doctor Freud."
"You studied under Doctor Freud?"
"I did. It was more of a pass-time. My family is quite wealthy and they eventually realized I wouldn't get married and be their precious little jewel, so they let me go my own way. Besides, my older brother now has five kids, so I'm free to do what I want. I first did some fashion design and then studied medicine. Hence psychiatry, thus Freud."
"Still, it's unbelievable. This is so relaxing."
"When I was at the ashram, they didn't want to teach me at first, but I persevered. If you're a woman, you've got to fight."
"Amen to that."
"I insisted and eventually, I got the opportunity to just listen. After a year, they had grown accustomed to me and let me learn. It was a great experience."
"So that's where you met him?"
"Yes. The Master was training at the same temple. He was much further in his studies, of course, and he still is, but I instantly took to him. When he called me some time later, I joined instantly."
"It was the same with me."
"You do something else, though."
"That's right. I still can't really believe it. I have killed a man and I feel little remorse. He was a criminal, a murderer and all around horrible. Still, it makes me feel strange."
"You have to relax and let it go. You can't change this and you did it for the good of mankind. It was personal and it was true. What more can you ask for?"
"I don't know. I'm just not sure whether I wanted to be a killer."
"Sometimes, you have to accept what you're becoming. Maybe it is just a part of a chrysalis."
The kneeling woman hit another spot and sent her patient into a groan of relaxation.
-
When the sun went down, Gladys and O'Hara climbed back down. She landed nimbly on the ground and whispered:
"From what I saw, the big building over there is the administrative center of the factory district. We should find what we are looking for in there."
O'Hara agreed. He took point and advanced quickly through the shadows of the smaller alleys, climbing over containers and garbage. Back here, the science-utopia seemed much more real. He helped her once or twice, but in the end, they reached the center quickly and quietly. They had switched back to the military gear, hoping to evade any guards.
As they reached the back of the building, Gladys realized how big it was. She asked:
"How are we even going to find anything in this thing?"
"Well, they have to find their own stuff, so they'll probably have a record system. We just have to find that and then we should do nicely."
"Fine. So how do we get in?"
O'Hara pointed up.
"Since you're such an excellent climber, why not do it again?"
"If you give me a boost."
He nodded, leaned his back against the wall, put his fingers together and crouched down. She ran up to him and stepped on his hands just as he stood up, propelling her in the air. She flew up, grabbed a pipe with both hands and pulled herself up. Once she was there, she climbed further up, making him dizzy with her speed. Finally, she reached the service door of the air condition system and let down a rope for him.
Once he reached the ledge, he asked:
"Where did you learn to do this? This is really impressive!"
"My parents accepted a little gymnastics even when they still thought I would just be a housewife. It came in handy."
"Sure did. Now let me get us inside."
He took out his army knife and broke open the lock.
-
Thanks for keeping this going! It's starting to read like a weekly serial... ;)
-
Actually, that's the style I'm going for. I hope you keep on enjoying it.
I really appreciate your support! Thank you very much.
-
Ruth rolled on her back. She enjoyed Hilde's company and had to admit that the woman was really comfortable in her own skin. For herself, this was still a point of contention. She wasn't a classical beauty and her now athletic body hardly fit the ideal people wanted. She tried to remind herself that society's idea of beauty was irrelevant now that she worked with Jacob and that the future would see beauty in utility and strength, not in some weird rules some artists or tailors had come up with. Still, she lacked the other woman's confidence.
Hilde smiled at her and said:
"I think I know what you are thinking."
"Tell me."
"I know the look. It means: 'How do you manage to just be so calm?', isn't that right?"
Ruth acknowledged this:
"I'm impressed. Doctor Freud was clearly an excellent teacher."
"I would rather say that I have developed a certain experience of the feelings people have. But to come back to your initial question: I can ease your way into this new psychological form, if you want to. There is some truth in the duality of Eros and Thanatos."
"What do you mean?"
"I had a lot of time to think about the implications, and there is a drive to love and procreate, but there is also a desire to destroy and to kill in every human being. I believe I could find a way to unite these desires in you and to help you become a true fighter."
"I have to admit I don't follow entirely."
"No one does his work better than someone who truly loves it."
Ruth wanted to say something, when Karel suddenly descended and declared:
"There are intruders in the main administrative center. Should we send troops to verify?"
Ruth thought about what Hilde had said and answered:
"Get them ready, I'll lead them myself!"
-
Gladys went in first. The corridor was quite narrow, there were pipes on the walls and thick bundles of electric wires snaked along their way. She had her gun at the ready and advanced carefully. After a few moments of walking, they reached another, similar door that led deeper in the building. As she emerged from it, she realized she was now in the depths of the administrative center. There were large machines that rattered and clackered, there were vacuum tubes glowing dimly in the gloom. She waved for O'Hara to follow her.
The pair walked on and finally found a door marked with "control room". It was locked. Gladys turned to O'Hara.
"Could you do your magic again?"
He nodded and rammed his knife into the lock. There was an unpleasant noise as he tore open the mechanism. He looked at her apologetically.
"This is loud, but it's all I can do. We should have asked Yorkow to teach us. He is a trained locksmith and showed me a few of his tricks. I'd be damned if I could do this."
Gladys nodded slowly and thought to herself that this job required so many skills that she had no idea on how to learn. She'd have to talk to each of the other soldiers once this was over.
O'Hara opened the door and stopped. The room was impressive. It was quite large and bright, with many complicated-looking devices. There was a large central machine that looked like a cinema organ.
There was no one inside. Gladys followed him in and asked:
"What does all this do? I thought we'd find some ledgers or files, but instead, we get a music hall."
"I have never seen anything like it. I wonder how this works."
He approached it and asked:
"Can you play this?"
She thought about it for a second and said:
"I learned to play the piano. I can try."
-
O'Hara kept a lookout on the door. His submachine gun was still at the ready. He said:
"Whatever you do, do it quickly. I'm not certain we haven't been spotted. There might have been an alarm."
"I didn't hear anything."
"There could have been a silent one. You never know."
"Whatever. I'll try to figure something out."
She laid her hands on the weird keyboard and struck a random chord. There was a slight rattling noise, a metallic clang, and a few letters showed up on a brass roller display in front of her. She nodded to herself and said:
"I think I've got something."
"Go on! I'm quite certain I heard some footsteps."
"What should I play?"
"I don't know. Try 'automaton'. That's what the other woman kept talking about."
"I'll try."
It took a few attempts to get the keyboard to spit out the correct letters, but then, she found it to work extremely quick, much faster than a regular typewriter. The rollers spelled out the word, Gladys pulled a stop on the organ, there was a faint grinding noise and the organ spit out a roll of perforated paper. She stared at it.
"What is that supposed to be?"
"I don't know. Do another thing, we'll take the stuff with us and let the eggheads at HQ find out what it means."
"What should I try?"
"Why not 'weapons'? This operation must have pretty crazy stuff."
She did what he asked her. Just as she pulled the stop, the footsteps got louder. They had to be quick.
-
Ruth had dived into her suit, had strapped on her armor and picked up her gun as the alarm continued to ring. By the time she ran out, a small squad of guards had assembled. She looked at them and said:
"We've got to be quick. There's someone in the administrative center. As far as we know, they are intruders, probably spies. We've got to get them alive. I really want to know who is behind this."
The troops snapped to attention and bellowed their agreement.
Moments later, the squad entered the building, carefully proceeding from corridor to corridor. Ruth led from the front. Inside, she was afraid, but she fought the feeling down and concentrated on her duty. With Jacob away, she had to hold the fort. On the other hand, she was scared. She didn't want to kill again and seriously hoped the intruders would surrender once they realized they were outnumbered.
She cursed under her breath when she understood where they had gone. If they had reached the core access room, they would be able to print out any information they needed. Sure, it was coded, but if anything got out, the organizations advantage would dwindle. She ordered the troops to surround the door and listened. There was the faint rattling of the perforating machine. The intruders had managed to get the machine to work. She had to act now.
With a quick sign, she ordered the assault.
The troop charged, kicking open the door and forcing their way in.
Inside, a huge man stood guard and opened fire.
His submachine gun spit out a wave of bullets. Ruth felt that she was hit, but she didn't care. She just hit the man with full force, using his stance against him and sending him on the ground. Just as she recovered and tackled him, she realized that there was another person in there. She ordered the guards to spread out and look for him or her. Meanwhile, she tried to hold down the man as one of the troops prepared an anesthetic. Just as the needle approached his shoulder, he suddenly jumped up, lifted her in the air above his head and sent her flying. She smashed into the trooper with the syringe and winced as she was injected. With a groan, she tried to get back up, but the huge man had made short work of the other guards. He forced the gauntlet and shouted:
"Get going, I'm holding them off!"
There was someone sprinting amidst the gunfire. Ruth couldn't think straight anymore as the drug started working. She aimed her gun at him and fired, taking him right between the eyes.
The Irishman instantly fell.
She thought she heard a woman's voice shout out, wondered who that might have been and blacked out.
-
Gladys fell. She had escaped the killing zone, run through the corridor and jumped through the service door. Tears were streaming from her eyes. O'Hara was dead. She hadn't actually seen him die, but the shot had been unmistakable. She had never expected something like this to happen. She knew that people died in wars, but she hadn't imagined it would be like this. Somehow, she had thought it would be heroic and, well, full of pathos. The brevity of it all had shocked her.
She landed on the ground with a crunch and rolled to recover. Her legs hurt, her body felt bruised. She was aware that lingering here would kill her, so she ran. Gladys disappeared amid the buildings, ducked through alleys and finally reached the fields around the industrial complex. The two streams of paper were still fluttering in her hand, so she tried to roll them up and hide them in one of her pockets. She jumped into a ditch and looked out.
In basic training, one of the sergeants had told her to never look back, but she couldn't bear not knowing. Behind her, the entire building complex was bustling with activity. Searchlights probed the area and troops patrolled the streets. She had to leave now before anybody found her tracks.
The young woman ran out into the fields. She realized she would have to walk for a long time before she actually reached a safe place. Contacting the others was impossible since O'Hara had carried the radio and she didn't want to risk leading her pursuers to her allies.
Finally beating back her tears, she shouldered her remaining equipment and set out into the darkness. Getting a headstart now would probably save her life.
-
:clap: :thanks: Still enjoying it and always looking forward to more!
-
Ruth woke up. She instinctively reached for her gun, her head hurting. It wasn't there. She tried to focus, but only realized she was in her room after what seemed an eternity. She looked around and noticed that there were two nurses and Hilde watching her. She groaned:
"Where is my gun?"
"It's in the armory, where it belongs. You were out for two days." The shorter woman looked a little worried. "How do you feel?"
"Not too good. What happened?"
"You got hit by a bullet. It almost killed you."
Ruth was shocked. She had only vague recollections of what had happened. Slowly, memories flooded back. Had she killed somebody? Again? She had to ask:
"What about the intruders?"
Hilde and the nurses exchanged glances. Ruth insisted:
"Tell me! Did I get them?"
Hilde sighed:
"Yes. You shot one in the head before passing out. The other one escaped and is still on the run. The guards are looking for him, but they haven't found him yet."
"I see."
The wounded woman felt horrible. The medication was wearing off and the realization she had killed again flooded in. It was a terrible feeling. She swallowed and said:
"What did you do with the body?"
"We checked him. No signs of any allegiance. The equipment was simple and completely generic, we found nothing special on him. The only thing that set him apart from other people was that he had one of these cyanide capsules. He didn't use it, though."
"I understand. So we have no idea who we are looking for." She could feel her headache returning. "We should reorganize the guards and double shifts. There might be other intruders. It was a mistake to keep this place open. Apparently, we are now at war. Fetch the commander of the guard. We have to talk."
She thought for a while, then said:
"I thank you for your help, but I would like to talk to Hilde alone. Could you give us a moment and get the commander?"
The nurses nodded and left. Ruth said:
"I have thought about what you said before I left. I want to try this. Make me a better fighter."
-
At the risk of repeating myself: Once again, daily life is busy, so it may take a few days to continue the story. But don't worry, I'll be back soon.
Thank you for your understanding!
-
Gladys laid on the ground as flat as she could. She had dozed off after finally collapsing, but was now wide awake. The buzzing of a biplane had woken her and she had just scrambled for cover in one of the hedges. The pilot hadn't seen her, at least she hoped so. She waited until the machine had disappeared and set out again. She had managed to get her bearings using her compass and was now walking eastwards to the edge of the farm cooperative. Continuing all night, she figured she would reach a street and follow it, maybe even meeting someone not affiliated to the cult. She laid her hand on her gun. And if not, she would take the vehicle anyway.
This was her second night on the road and she was still surprised how doggedly they tracked her. Only by wading through a creek had she managed to get away from a bloodhound team. She was still cold when she even thought about it. She must have really seen some secrets they definitely didn't want to get out.
She walked on and fought back the need to just lay down and sleep. It wasn't yet the time for this. Besides, whenever she closed her eyes, she saw O'Hara's face. She hadn't expected this war to become so personal so quick. On the other hand, who was she kidding. It just proved what the others had said: She was weak. She gritted her teeth and continued. She'd show them what she was capable of. She'd survive this and she'd avenge O'Hara's death.
Nodding to herself, she walked on through the shrubs and furrows. She sure hoped she'd reach the road soon.
-
Keep it up whenever you can, still looking forward to every new installment :thanks:
-
The gray dawn slowly illuminated the countryside as Gladys finally set her foot on the dusty road. After stumbling through the fields for hours, she immediately felt energized. She stretched, adjusted her backpack and marched on quickly. There was still quite a march in front of her, but she now had a clear path. Things were looking up.
At around 10 o'clock, she had left the farm complex. There had been a few patrol airplanes, but she had hidden herself from view and hadn't been spotted. The road had the joined a larger one and now she was quite sure she was out of the cult's reach. The next vehicle she saw, she'd stop.
In the end, it took another two hours of plodding around on the dusty road before she heard the coughing and rattling of an engine. Her feet were now so sore she had no idea how she could go on walking and the tiredness was making her mind play tricks on her. She had to stop this car. She stood in the middle of the road and waved her arms. She kept the gun at the ready should the driver refuse. She was pleasantly surprised to see the Ford T chug closer and stop. An old man with a large beard looked out and asked:
"What are you doing here, young lady?"
"I need you to bring me to the next town. It's really important."
He seemed a little confused by her clothes, but said:
"Fine. Get in."
He got out, opened the passenger door and held it open for her. As she walked by him, he said:
"By the way, lady, you are wearing pants."
"Indeed."
She sat down. His confusion led him to acquiescence.
"Fine."
He closed the door and walked to the driver's seat. Then, he climbed in. Gladys realized that he was taking forever. She had to be quick and this man was just taking his sweet time. Still, she didn't want to do something rash. She asked him:
"Could you please be quick? It's really important."
"What could possibly be important around here?"
That's when the plane's silhouette appeared on the horizon.
-
The plane roared above them. Gladys was unsure of what to do. Should she try to shoot it down? She hesitated and the moment was gone. The machine disappeared again. Somehow, she had expected an attack. The driver grinned and said:
"Probably just a crop-duster. Don't worry."
"I doubt that. I'm quite certain that this was a scout."
"A scout? Say, lady, what exactly did you do to warrant all this attention?"
She tried to conceal her feelings and smiled:
"I just need to get to the nearest phone. Quickly!"
"Well, you'll just have to be patient. There's still some road before us, and Bess here isn't one of those fancy Italian cars."
"I can see that."
Gladys tried to stop herself from saying this, but it was too late. The driver gave her an angry look. This would make the trip even more horrible.
After several minutes, he said:
"It's not her fault she's old. Those are hard times. I'd buy a new one if I had this kind of money."
"I'm sorry. This was rude on my part."
He nodded slowly and said:
"Apology accepted. So, what's your name?"
She just wanted to reply, when the earth shook. The driver tried to keep the car under control but couldn't prevent it from swerving close to the ditch. Then, there was a loud explosion ahead. Dust and dirt were thrown in the air. She could hear the whistling of shrapnel. The old man shouted:
"What the hell?"
There was another shiver, then another one. It felt like an entire cavalcade. She turned around in her seat and her mouth fell open.
"What is this?"
Behind them, a large, ten-feet-tall contraption thundered along the road. It was vaguely humanoid, like a bulky suit of armor. It belched flames and fumes and ran at them. In its arm, there was a large cannon and the machine just readied the next shot.
Gladys grabbed the old man and pulled him from the car, running for the ditch.
-
They landed in the dirt, the young woman scrambling to her feet. She picked up the confused old man, put him in a fireman's carry and stumbled away from the enormous monstrosity that tore up the car. The machine extended a pair of metallic arms and with a hydraulic pull, ripped it apart. The screech of bursting metal filled the air. The pilot had clearly failed to see her and continued searching the wreckage.
For Gladys, this was a chance she wasn't going to let pass. She ran as fast as she could and tried to put as much distance as possible between herself and the assailant. Tragically, the area around the country road turned out to be completely flat and largely devoid of vegetation. The sad remains of once fertile farmland offered little to no cover. She was quite certain she wouldn't be able to outrun the apparatus, so she had to find another way to escape.
Having completely dismembered the car, the pilot looked around, trying to locate his prey. He managed to spot them and switched on some loudspeakers on the outer shell of the machine:
"Stop running and put up your hands!"
Gladys ran on, zigzagging to evade the coming attack.
"Stop now! This is your final warning!"
She ran on.
The pilot shrugged and added:
"Your fault."
He hit the pedal and the clumsy engine began stomping after her. Soon, it hit a fast stride and was catching up quickly.
-
What little head start she had quickly melted away as the machine thundered after them, its exhausts belching smoke and fumes. Gladys reached the sad remains of an orchard and hid behind a tree stump. Her back was hurting. She lowered the old man down and made a sign for him to be quiet. He whispered:
"What is this?"
"I don't have the faintest idea. Just be quiet. Maybe it will lose us."
Gladys held her breath. The pursuer staggered around amidst the dry fields. Then, it turned to the rows of blackened stumps. The old man couldn't stop himself:
"What are you going to do?"
"Keep quiet! Can't you feel it?"
"What?"
"The wind is rising."
"The wind? How could this ..."
She took her canteen and splashed some water on a handkerchief.
"You should do the same."
"I understand. It's a dust storm, isn't it?"
"Exactly. And his engine isn't going to like it."
She gripped her submachine gun and waited. The engine approached, its noise filling the air. It blew apart one stump after the other. Gladys could feel the wind in her hair. It tasted sandy.
The pilot, unaware of the change, unearthed another pair of trees and added over his loudspeaker:
"Come on. Don't make this harder! Give up and I'll let you live."
Then, the wind turned into a storm. It was very sudden and utterly unexpected. Within seconds, the sky was dark and roaring particles of dust filled the air. Gladys could hardly see a thing, but she could hear the machine's engine sputter. She nodded to the old man and ran. Climbing up the walker's legs, she forced open the cockpit. The pilot looked up at her, surprised at this sudden counterattack. She lowered her gun at him and hesitated for a second. He scrambled for his gun and she pulled the trigger. A hail of bullets filled the chamber. Ricochets pinged through the hull. She felt a stinging pain in her shoulder and dropped back to the ground. She grunted as she hit the hard, dry soil. Scrambling to her feet, she tried to return to the stump, but by now, the storm was so strong she could hardly see her own hands. Still, she had to get away, so she guessed a direction and crawled away.
-
Days later, Rod finished packing up the remaining crates. It was time to give up. The bank had foreclosed on the farm, which had fed his family for two generations. The last storms had finally ruined him. When the last box was on the carriage, he called for his wife and kids. The half-dozen emerged from the tired walls of the family home and climbed on it. Rod shook the reins and clicked his tongue to get the mare going. He gave the house a last look, then he concentrated on the dusty road. As they were riding along, the children started to fight. He turned around to shout at them and make them shut up:
"What is it? Just shut up!"
One of them said:
"Betty is telling lies!"
"I'm not."
"You are. There's no one there. You're a liar!"
"I'm not. There was someone. Over there."
She pointed to the grayish dust.
"There."
Rod stopped the carriage. He looked in the direction she was pointing. Just some dust.
"There's no one there. Stop telling lies. Jesus doesn't like it when you're telling lies."
"I didn't want to make Jesus unhappy. I just thought I saw someone."
"Let's just go on. We have to reach the town by nightfall and it's still a long drive."
Just as he turned back, Betty shouted again:
"There! There!"
He turned around once again and saw someone. He got up, readying his shotgun. You couldn't be too careful nowadays. He climbed down and walked slowly towards the prone person. The figure barely moved.
He pointed the gun and asked:
"What's up?"
The person rolled on its back and looked at him. It was somehow a woman in dark clothes, her face pale and caked with dust. She seemed to be on the verge of dying.
"Water ... Please ... Water ..."
-
K for keeping at it! :thanks:
-
The Captain walked in. Gladys struggled to get up, but he made a sign for her to remain sitting. She was still in this wheelchair, not having entirely recovered from her trip through the desert. The Captain stood in front of his troop and said:
"Gentlemen, lady, I am glad to have you back. I am sad about our losses, but I am certain their sacrifice hasn't been in vain. Due to the courage of this unit, we now have a better idea of what we are facing. It won't be easy, but at least, we will be able to prepare. O'Hara's family has been informed of his death. There will be a simple memorial service next week. I trust you will attend it. I am told that Lieutenant Oswald is on the road to recovery, even though it might be that he won't be able to serve anymore."
There was a short pause as they thought of O'Hara. Gladys held back her tears bravely. Eventually, the Captain said:
"Now, let's talk about the information you recovered: First of all, although we haven't been able to identify this Master character, we now know that he spent a lot of time in Asia. The secret service is on the lookout for further clues and will inform us if something comes up. We don't know where he'll strike next, but we've managed to glean some information on planned troop movements. Also, we can now assess their strength. The good news is that their army isn't all that big. The bad news, on the other hand: their technology surpasses ours by decades. Miss van Rothe has brought coded plans that we have managed to understand. We're not able to duplicate their weapons and our conventional small-arms are useless against them unless we're at a serious tactical advantage."
Washington put up his hand.
"Yes?"
"Sir, what are we going to do then? We can't just go around in teams, carting field guns around."
"Actually, the research department has been looking into this. I'll tell you more as soon as it becomes clearer. Anyway, our next step must be to recover and to prepare the next operation. This means that you are to stay in bed and heal. The others will try to keep up. You have a week."
-
Ruth dodged her sparring partner's attack. She bobbed and weaved, evading his clumsy blows. As soon as she saw an opening, she whipped out an assault and slammed her fist into his face. The fighter shook for a moment. Normally, she would have hesitated, but instead, she felt a sudden surge of ecstasy. She grabbed him, threw him to the ground, dropped on top of him and began hammering his face at full speed. Only when her knuckles bled did she stop. She got up, grinning. Looking at her bloodied hands, she told herself she'd have to do more to harden them. Hilde passed her the towel. Her opponent lay on the ground, barely alive. His swollen face was covered in bruises and gashes. The dark-haired woman spat and said to the stunned paramedics:
"Get him to the infirmary." She turned to Hilde: "That's enough training for today. No point in putting an entire squadron in the sick ward."
Hilde nodded. Her methods were working splendidly. A combination of hypnosis, medical therapy and certain, more personal ministrations had begun transforming her "patient"'s way of thinking. She was impressed. She had never expected her to take it so well. On the other hand, maybe it had always been there. Soon, Ruth would be an absolute machine of destruction. She couldn't help smiling at her own genius.
-
One week later, Gladys had recovered. She was still a bit weak and quite skinny, but the wound had healed well. She felt ready to return to active duty. Being out of the wheelchair was incredible. She joined the rest of the unit for the next mission briefing. Clearly, there was something going on.
The Captain explained:
"As far as we can tell, things are heating up. The League of Nations has accepted the new Cuban government and the Master is now in control of the island. There has been some kind of shady deal with our agents and they are preparing to fight off an invasion. We are on order not to act. However, there have been some rumors about the Master's next operation. We are to intervene and stop them."
He looked at the group and asked:
"Yes, Washington?"
"So, what are they up to and how are we going to fight them if they have massive combat machines?"
"As a matter of fact, they seem to aim for South Africa. They want to capture the gold mines there. The secret services suggest that this might be a plan to take control of international trade. Honestly, I don't really care. That's politics."
He stretched:
"I'm sorry. It's been a long night. About the war machines: well, engineering has brought us this."
Two white-coated men wheeled in a table and revealed a large-bore, very heavy rifle.
"They told me that this should be able to put a big dent in our enemy's armor."
Washington asked for permission and came forward to lift it. He struggled. Turning to the scientists, he asked:
"How are we supposed to tote those around in the field?"
One of the scientists gave him a strange look.
-
"Good that you're asking. We're working on something. By the way ..." He turned to the Captain while Washington tried to carry the gun around. "We're going to need a volunteer. Any suggestions?"
Gladys had followed the discussion. She was quite strong, stronger than most women, certainly. Still, she had no idea on how to keep up with her fellow squad mates. Now, carrying this huge gun ... Somehow, this degraded her to second-tier. She had to do something. When she heard the word "volunteer", she was certain all these seasoned veterans would answer the call. After all, they were the elite of the elite. As a result, she stood up and shouted:
"I'm volunteering!", trying to drown them out.
To her surprise, the others had remained quiet. Instead, they all stared at her. Beside her, Yorkow hissed:
"Never volunteer for anything. It gets you killed."
"Oops.", she whispered back.
The scientist, on the other hand, nodded.
"If you insist. Although ... A woman?"
Now she was certain. Whatever she just had volunteered for, she'd do it.
-
I sure hope this goes where it looks like it might :dance:
-
The research facilities were housed in the more remote parts of the compound. They were as far away from the limits of the area as possible and well-guarded behind several lines of barbed wire and walls. The buildings were simple barracks, only a few of them were built of concrete. None of this had the elegance of the Master's base. Somehow, Gladys was disappointed. She had expected some weird sciency place, full of strange machines and wires and tubes. Instead, she met several lab-coated gentlemen that spent a lot of time in front of blackboards and test tubes. All of this seemed more like a high school science project. However, the men were quite courteous. The man who had recruited her introduced her.
"This is private van Rothe. She's the one who brought us the coded information. She has also volunteered. Private, this is professor Ibrahimovic. He is the project leader."
The professor, a short, slim man with rimless glasses, a well-trimmed mustache and receding hairline, bowed and said:
"A woman soldier? Why not? We live in a new world."
He took off the glasses and cleaned them on his coat. As he was working, he said:
"There are risks, of course. As in all things in life, you might die. It is also possible to find yourself disfigured, crippled or changed. Are you willing to take this risk? It is your right to say no. We will not hold it against you."
Gladys still stood to attention. She replied:
"I have volunteered. I stand by my word."
"Excellent. Gentlemen, we have our candidate. Doctor Cornelius", he addressed the escort, "will you do the preliminary examinations? We will need the samples to prepare the measures. I suggest we start in three days."
There were words of approval. It slowly dawned to Gladys that she had no idea what she had volunteered for.
-
She soon found herself in her underwear, being measured as if for a fitting. The nurse that did the work was a short, robust woman that was clearly impressed by Gladys' physique. Her comments suggested that she wasn't impressed in a good way, though.
"It's not very womanly, dear. How are you ever going to find a husband, looking like this?"
"Finding a husband is my least concern for now, ma'am."
"But you could be so pretty. You're a little tall, but you have good hips."
"I'm hear to defend my country, ma'am."
"I heard of you. You're that woman soldier. I don't understand. This is not what women were made for."
"We'll see to that. Could you carry on measuring?"
"Yes, of course." She seemed cross. "I just wanted to tell you this. There is no need for you to force this upon yourself."
"I am not 'forcing' this upon myself. Ma'am, with your permission, you are sounding like my dearest mother with whom I had this debate for years. Trust me. If she could not change my mind, neither will you."
"There's no reason to be snappish."
"Is there?"
When the ordeal was finished, she was photographed. Then, the scientists took some samples of her blood and other bodily fluids, neither of which Gladys wanted to think about. They did some tests of her reflexes and senses, repeating the steps she had already gone through during her enlistment.
However, they still hadn't told her what all this was for. She decided to ask first thing in the morning, as soon as she saw Professor Ibrahimovic again.
-
She was woken in the wee hours by the nurse.
"Wake up. Everybody is waiting for you."
She got up, wanted to change to her fatigues but instead found the nurse just hand her a dressing gown. In the end, she was ushered to the main lab very quickly. She was still wearing her nightie and slippers, surprised by the bright light. Also, she only had moments to check on her hair. As a result, it hung messily from her head. She looked around. The scientists were all extremely busy. The nurse urged her on, shoving her to a kind of operating table. Next to it, there was a screen. Machines were humming, the light was glaring and there were weird devices everywhere. The nurse said:
"Go behind the screen. Undress."
She followed her, slipped out of her clothes and soon found herself dressed in one of these surgery gowns that open in the back. The nurse had stuffed her hair into a cap and told her to wait. Outside, people were going through some procedures. She heard some fragments "gland", "electrical stimulation", "hormone". She had no idea what they were talking about.
Eventually, the screen was removed and she was led to the table. More lights flared as she was helped on the slab and laid down. A man in a surgeon's outfit approached and presented himself as Doctor Torrelli. He asked her if she was indeed Gladys van Rothe. She nodded and asked:
"Can I see Professor Ibrahimovic?"
"He'll be there in a second. Have you ever given birth?"
"What kind of a question is that?"
"An important one, I believe. So, have you?"
"No. I haven't."
"Good. How about your menstruation? Is it regular?"
"What are you talking about?"
"Miss, we are trying to prepare this correctly. I suggest you cooperate."
She hesitated:
"It is as I was told by my mother."
"Regular?"
"I guess."
He frowned but left it at that. With a wave, he had one of the assistants jot this down.
"Get the laryngoscope ready."
Confused as she was, she looked for the Professor. He finally appeared and walked to the table. She asked him:
"What is going to happen?"
"You are going to take a step towards greatness."
She barely heard the final words since one of the assistants put an inhalator on her face.
"Count down from ten ..."
-
When she drifted back into consciousness, Gladys felt broken and bruised. She heard fragments of some conversation going on around her. Her throat felt sore. She heard someone say:
"It was a success. Not everything worked perfectly, but the data suggests we might have reached a level previously unknown."
There was some clapping and some slapping of backs. Gladys fell asleep again. Even though she was hurting all over, she felt somewhat satisfied that she had been successful. Somehow, she still wondered what she had been successful at, but for now, the simple satisfaction had to be enough.
When she awoke again, she was hungry. As far as she could remember the lessons her mother had given her, hungry was good. Also, the pain had somewhat subsided. She looked around and saw that she was in a simple bedroom, probably some barracks. Her throat was still sore, but she managed to call for help. Soon, the door opened and the nurse came in. Gladys groaned a little, but accepted her fate.
The woman looked at her and asked:
"How do you feel?"
"I'm sore and tired. Also, I'm hungry."
"I see. I'll bring you something."
She went away. Somehow, Gladys had to admit that the woman wasn't too unlikeable, at least as long as she brought her food.
-
Indeed, as soon as she returned, Gladys couldn't help gorging herself with the warm stew the nurse brought her. After a few starved spoons, she suddenly stopped.
"What is this? This tastes horribly."
The nurse shrugged:
"Doctor's orders. Eat up."
Once again, Gladys' anger at the woman returned. How could someone be so despicable. She sighed, then said:
"Could you please fetch the professor?"
"You expect me to 'fetch' the professor? Listen, young lady, the professor isn't a stick and I'm no dog. I suggest you eat up an start behaving correctly."
Gladys could feel her blood boil. She barely managed to put aside the bowl, overcoming the temptation to just throw it into her face. Instead, she got up against the ever-shriller protests of the woman and wanted to just tell her what she thought when she suddenly realized that there was something seriously skewed with her perspective. Everything seemed to be smaller and further down. She looked down on the ranting nurse and wondered. What had happened? What exactly had the experiment been about?
Time to talk to the professor. She walked out, leaving the protesting woman behind her.
-
Here we go :woohoo:
-
Gladys strode through the ward, the shorter scientists scrambling out of the way. She was angry and confused, but mostly just wanted to take the professor to task. She reached his office's door and found it locked. She rattled the doorknob and suddenly tore the door from its hinges. The resounding crack this produced shocked her. She stared at the door, looked at her hand, dropped the busted piece of wood and swooned. As she collapsed, she heard several guards run at her, shouting. She could also hear the professor in all this chaos, then she passed out.
She woke up in her bed. The professor was there, so was the nurse and the Captain. They all looked at her anxiously. She looked at them and asked:
"What is it? Did somebody die? Have I done something wrong?"
The nurse wanted to say something, but she was interrupted by the professor:
"Not at all, Miss. Not at all. Indeed, the experiment was a total success. You can be proud of yourself. Your selfless act has propelled the world of science into a new orbit!"
She recoiled from his enthusiasm and asked:
"So it went well? What exactly did you do to me?"
"Weren't you told? Ah, I'm really sorry for trusting Markwart. He's a sloppy worker and even worse at communicating. I should fire him." He took off his glasses, wiped them, put them back on and said: "Well, since you asked: The experiment was to turn you into a supersoldier. A paragon of humanity, powerful enough to win any battle."
"And ..."
"And it was a complete success! Unexpected, yes, especially if we look at the failures, but, there you have it. Fortune favors the brave! Consider yourself lucky."
"What did you do? What happened to me?"
"Ah, this doesn't need to concern you. We mostly worked on your hormonal makeup, but there were some more things. All of this may be hard to understand for an uninitiated person to understand. Still, show, don't tell! Nurse, could you bring us the mirror?"
"Yes, professor."
"You will see!"
-
The nurse returned, an assistant following behind her, pushing a large mirror on wheels into the room. Once the thing was ready, Gladys looked at herself. All the color drained from her face when she realized what she had become. If she had been strong and muscular before, she was now truly heroic. It took her a while to take in the changes she had gone through. Finally, she just tore off the nightgown and let it fall to the ground. Her eyes went wide. She stared at her chest and saw that it had become broad and powerful, covered in hard, tight and very visible muscles. It tapered down into a small waist once again covered by tight abdominals and leading to large and strong legs. Her mouth fell open as she lifted her muscular arms and flexed her biceps.
The spectators seemed as stunned as she was. She took a while to recover, then asked:
"This is incredible. Just how tall am I now?"
The mute watchers hesitated. Eventually, the Captain offered:
"Maybe 6'4"?
"Marvelous. I feel wonderful."
The professor recovered:
"No doubt. It was a success beyond expectations."
"I want to see just how strong I am."
The nurse cleared her throat.
"I may also need a uniform."
The nurse offered her a set.
The group left to the gymnasium, leaving the confused helper standing in the ward.
-
Meanwhile, the other members of the company were training as hard as they could to be able to use the new weapons. The drill sergeant had set up a routine to increase their strength and endurance, but there was clearly a lot of work ahead of them. Right now, they were doing sets with barbells and sweating a lot. This aside, everybody was preparing for the upcoming mission in South Africa. The local authorities had already been informed, the military mobilized discretely and the operation prepared. Still, no one was entirely sure how the Master and his followers would attempt their strike. The nervousness was tangible. Aside the information they had collected, they had little to no data on which to plan their actions.
As a result, they were quite surprised when the horde of people burst into the gymnasium, led by a statuesque amazon in tightly fitting fatigues.
It took them a while to realize who had just come in. Finally Yorkow recovered his voice and asked:
"Is it you, van Rothe?"
She smiled at him and said:
"Yes. It's me. Don't worry."
"What happened to you? What did they do to you?"
"That's what I wish to find out."
She walked past the gaping looks and laid down on a bench. Then, she grabbed the bar and pushed the weights up. They felt like nothing. She turned to Yorkow:
"Corporal, could you assist me and add a few plates. This is hardly a challenge."
-
:woohoo: been looking forward to this! :clap:
-
Gladys gave the barbell a few tentative lifts, then said:
"I'm going to need some more. Would you kindly ..."
"Certainly."
Soon, the bar was loaded with weight-plates. Gladys grunted as she lifted and lowered it rhythmically. Finally, she racked it and stood back up. The other soldiers stared at her. She said:
"That was actually exhausting. Thank you, Corporal."
He nodded. She stood in front of them, pointed at the mirror and added:
"Do you mind if I take a look?"
"Do so, don't mind us."
She walked to it and rolled up her sleeve. It was quite difficult for her to free her bulging biceps from its textile frame. In the end, she lost her temper and just tore it open. The others stared at her, but said nothing. She saw a big vein snaking over the tight muscular mass and said:
"Wow. I'm bigger than Charles Atlas now."
Yorkow smirked:
"I don't know what they did to you, but the guns aren't going to be much of a problem for you anymore."
Someone added, whispering:
"A husband, on the other hand ..."
Gladys felt the sting, but at the same time, she was enthralled by her sheer size and power. She was a true amazon, beyond any male. Somehow, there was a weird feeling in her nether regions.
-
Somehow, there was a weird feeling in her nether regions.
:what: :)
-
She took a deep breath, almost destroying her uniform in the process, then turned to the professor:
"I would like to have a moment of privacy. Is it acceptable for me to go to my quarters?"
"Of course. You'll have to report to the lab every day, though. We'll have to monitor any changes in your situation. After all, we're still in the prototype stage. We wouldn't want anything unexpected to happen to you."
He gave one of his assistants who had since arrived a meaningful look. The man paled and nodded. Gladys felt their nervousness. Maybe everything wasn't perfect, but she still needed some time. Turning to her squad-mates, she smiled, saluted and said:
"I'll see you soon. I hope to be able to participate in our mission."
On the way out, she noticed that they all sat a little uncomfortably as if they were hiding something. She wondered what was going on.
By the time she reached her quarters, she was sweating. She tore off her clothes, actually ripping them apart in the process, flung herself onto her groaning bed and did the unspeakable. She had resisted this for years, always careful not to besmirch herself, but this time, she could no longer fight it. Sinking her fingers between her legs, she soon found a sweet spot and groaned ecstatically as she touched it. The bed squeaked, but she couldn't care less. Hadn't she turned her body into a work of art worthy of the Greek classics? Maybe she was Athena, not Artemis?
-
Something was going on. Willem Kroenstat was vaguely aware that there had been some changes lately. Somehow, the workers at the mine were losing their respect. He was used to have them keep their heads down when in his presence, even if they were taller. However, lately, there were some men who just nodded at him. Nodded at him! As if he were their equal!
Willem Kroenstat was a white man and him being in charge of the biggest gold mine in the country, maybe even in the World, filled him with a certain pride. Now having these men lose respect of him made him angry. He wasn't perfectly certain, but they also seemed a little different. It's not as if one black man looked like the other, but they were strange.
He had asked the spies the company had set up in the work gangs, but they didn't know anything. There had been an accident with one of them. Maybe this was the reason they weren't saying anything. Superstitious lot, all of them.
Now, the next problem was on the horizon. The army had moved in, all canons and machine guns and had begun fortifying the mine. Wonderful. Now the work was going even slower. He had no idea how they would fulfill their quota now.
What was that noise? There was a kind of buzzing in the air. Like masses of aeroplanes. Now there were shouts. He decided to go outside and take a look. This was typical: Everything had to be done by hand nowadays.
-
Above him, large shapes loomed in the sky. It took him a second to realize that these were dirigibles. Around them, several smaller planes were buzzing, ready to defend the main airships. The army troops ran to their guns and tried to ready them to fend off the attackers, but a few warning shots from the aeroplanes sent them cowering on the ground. Kroenstat cursed under his breath, ran to his office and took his revolver from his desk. At least he meant to. He suddenly found himself threatened by the woman that usually cleaned the office. Or was she the one? They definitely looked the same. She said:
"Put up your hands."
He did as he was told. He asked:
"Who are you?"
"Do you really care?"
She had a point. Instead, he asked:
"What do you want?"
"We're going to do something to free the world. Something you won't like."
"Will you kill me?"
"I'd love to. After what the workers told me, you and your henchmen would deserve it. But the Master insisted: No unnecessary casualties, no revenge killing."
"That's nice of him."
She shrugged.
"I couldn't care less. Who'll need revenge in a world without power for people like you?"
"So I guess you aren't the charwoman?"
"No, I'm not. But she's fine. Thank you for asking."
"I wasn't ..."
"Just keep it this way, shall we. I'll tell her you asked."
He nodded slowly, seeing her point. He looked out of the window and saw the airships disembark some strange armored giants. She grinned:
"Impressive, huh?"
"How is this even possible?"
"It's the Master. His will is mighty. Now, please, get on your knees, I'll have to tie you up."
-
Ruth climbed aboard the war machine and signaled the airsailor that she was ready. She heard the drop-hook latch to her armor and saw the bomb-door open below her. The mine's enormous spiral shape below her was quite impressive. She could see several nests of resistance. She longed to strike them down. She gave the thumbs-up and felt the rush as the machine dropped a few hundred feet in seconds.
The war machine touched down, the hydraulics groaning. Ahead of her a few gunners scrambled to align their pieces on her. She ordered the other troopers to charge and put the pedal to the floor, launching the massive humanoid machine on the defensive position. She dodged the first shot, jumped over the next and landed in the fortification. With lightning speed, she directed the machine's arm on one of the guns and effortlessly threw it on the next one. The gunners screamed in terror as she tore threw their position.
She was elated. Somewhere in the depths of her mind, she felt repulsed by her mindless aggression, but at the same time, she felt free. Hilde's work was excellent. Without any hindrances, she moved intuitively and without hesitation. Within seconds, the position had fallen and she advanced, the other troops moving behind her. She roared in triumph, barely managing not to salivate as her feral aggression overruled her reluctance.
One of the other pilots called her. There was trouble. Finally! She grinned with glee.
-
MechaRuth vs SuperGladys? Just have to wait and see :dance:
-
That would be the plan, yes.
-
Gladys watched the tanks rumble by, swiveling their guns to point at the attackers. After what she had heard from the technicians, these wouldn't do much good against the walking machines. There simply hadn't been enough time to refit them, besides, the tankers had scoffed at the thought of not being able to pierce their opponents armor. She just hoped that it would work. An abrupt explosion told her it didn't. Suddenly, the walker emerged amidst the wreckage, its machine gun spraying death on the fleeing tankers that had abandoned their vehicles. She heard a screaming, half-insane laughter from one of the machines, as the next tank found itself torn open and savaged by the steel claws of the massive battlesuit.
She grabbed the gun, removed the safety and aimed calmly at the roaring monster. She held her breath, waited and pulled the trigger. The gun's shot was almost drowned out by the screams of the battle going on around her. The missile roared through the air and ... struck one of the other machines that had just thrown itself into its path. A screaming, burning man escaped from it, ran, dropped and flailed as he tried to put out the flames. Ignoring him, the pilot of the head walker turned her machine to Gladys' position and fired. There was no pause, no moment of spotting or aiming. She just saw her target and unleashed a volley.
Gladys ran. She ducked into cover, adrenaline flushing through her body. She rolled, set up the gun again and fired. The machine just twisted, evading the missile with ease. In response, it fired a few shots, then she heard a bellow:
"There you are! I'll kill you! You can't escape!"
Gladys charged at the machine. Around her, the other troopers managed to stop the advance of the aggressors. Time for a counter-attack!
-
>:D
-
She sprinted across the broken terrain, her muscles pumping with effort. She readied her gun, took aim and fired. The shell roared past, almost hitting its mark. Once again, the pilot had dodged.
Ruth saw the soldier emerge from cover, carrying some kind of huge gun. Deep inside her anger-ridden mind, she realized that this gun could actually fire something that might damage her vehicle. Up until now, she had evaded it easily, but this warrior was both quick and reckless. Still, she appreciated a challenge. She stood back for a second, letting her seething rage calm a little and announced:
"I see you are willing to fight. Let's do this, no holds barred."
Then the blood came over her again.
Gladys looked at the machine. She heard the voice and shouted:
"Let's fight!"
Ruth was surprised. Was this a woman's voice? She wondered who that might be. The soldier was gigantic and from what she could see, quite massive. She shrugged. She'd be just as dead, regardless of her gender.
The machine came in swinging its arms, its guns blazing at their target. Gladys jumped and evaded the attacks, staying out of the fields of fire and using her mobility to keep out of sight. She could feel the pain soaring in her muscles and the sweat run from every pore. She fired, finally striking the machine. The explosion tore off a part of the armor, but the machine continued its attack. It delivered a sudden glancing blow, sending Gladys to the ground. The pilot howled with laughter and threw herself at her prone target. Gladys scrambled away, the machine's massive fists tearing up the ground. She could feel her skin swell under the blow. This would hurt as soon as the excitement dropped.
-
She crawled between the machine's legs and reloaded the gun. She had to roll sideways to prevent herself getting stomped to death. In the background, there were crashes and explosions as the others tried to hold back the advancing battle armors. Finally, the missile was ready and she scrambled to her feet, now behind the monstrous machine. She braced herself against the gun, leaning into it as good as she could. Her biceps swelled against the weapon and, for a short moment, she was in awe of herself. She wondered whether she'd be able to get even stronger. Pushing the thought aside, she fired.
The gun went off, the missile shot out of the barrel and smashed into the suit's rear armor, tearing open the plates that protected its engine. Seeing the mechanical innards exposed, Gladys grabbed the gun and rammed it into the engine. With a screech of dying metal, the thing malfunctioned and spit flames and oil. The amazon stepped away as the weapon was about to blow.
Ruth saw the indicators flash bright red and understood. She had to bail out now.
With a practiced grip, she ejected the front window and jumped out of the vehicle. She dropped and rolled, running away as fast as she could before the shock-wave of the explosion threw her to the ground. Groaning, she clambered to her feet, instinctively reaching for her knife and pistol. Through the smoke, she saw a looming shape approach. What kind of monster was this?
-
Gladys had immediately gotten to her feet once the explosion had washed over her. She felt a loud ringing in her ears, her face was blackened by soot and fire and her uniform was torn, but she was ready to fight the pilot. She pulled out her gun and advanced on her opponent. She was certain that her intimidating exterior would be enough to shock and defeat any opposition easily. Still, she was surprised to find a leather-clad, armed woman stand in front of her. She was at least a head shorter than her, but her face showed grim determination. Her opponent snarled:
"What the hell are you?"
Gladys smiled:
"Private van Roithe, special services. Give up and I won't have to hurt you."
The shorter woman gloated:
"Me, give up? I will cut you up and you will beg for me to let you live!"
The titaness looked into her enemy's eyes and saw only madness. What was going on in this woman? She seemed to be in an insane, feral state of mind.
At the same time, Ruth was feeling a strange discomfort welling up in her mind. She was still full of rage and murderous excitement, but this enormous warrior was something to behold. Fighting her wouldn't be easy and she wasn't entirely sure she'd survive. Before she could formulate the thought, Hilde's training took over and she charged. Cut first, think later.
-
Should be for some interesting hand-to-hand combat... Even though Gladys is stronger, I feel Ruth might give a good showing, based on her sheer strength of will. K as always for keeping it exciting :clap:
-
Gladys saw the short woman charge her. She pulled up the gun and shouted:
"Stop, or I'll shoot."
She didn't. Neither did. Before Gladys could pull the trigger, the woman had already hit her and sliced her arm. Angrily, Gladys dropped her gun and tried to grab her opponent. Before she could catch her, her smaller enemy had evaded her and stuck her with her knife. She felt the blade sink into her flesh, but she was quite certain she hadn't hit anything vital.
Gladys turned around, her hand shot out and she smashed her fist into the leather-clad woman's face.
Ruth saw stars. For a few moments, she was unsure of who and where she was. The taller fighter had sent a massive force into her face and she could feel her cheek swell. Something had burst under her skin and one of her teeth swam in the blood that oozed into her mouth. She ducked and evaded the second blow, spitting out the cracked white clump. She had to finish this quickly. With a few steps, she led her opponent into treacherous, ruptured ground. She glanced back and saw that several of their machines had already been destroyed. Also, the air support was waning. This was bad. She had to free herself to decide on a tactic.
Gladys understood her enemy's actions. She could almost smell her fear. She tore a screaming metal tube from the wrecked battle armor and swung it around. Combined with her size, this would give her the reach she'd need to defeat her opponent. Before the smaller woman could react, she struck at her.
Ruth could barely duck away as the rod came dangerously close to break her skull. This was getting worse and worse.
-
In a split-second, she made up her mind. She jumped forward, did an awkward roll and stuck her knife into the giantess' thigh. Then, before Hilde's training could take over, she clambered on her opponent's chest and slapped her ears with her cupped hands.
Gladys was so surprised by the sudden attack, she couldn't even react. Instead, she just stood there as the small woman wounded her and sent her stumbling. Before she could try to catch her, the other woman had taken off and was running to the wreck of her armor. The taller woman stumbled after her, but the wound in her leg slowed her.
Meanwhile, as the monstrous woman loomed closer, Ruth grabbed the radio and shouted:
"Get me out of here! Now!"
There were some garbled answers, but she hoped she would be able to hold on. This operation was a failure, but she wouldn't leave it at that. The Master still had a card up his sleeve.
"Initiate order 'stalemate'!"
More grumbling and groaning, but as she looked above, she saw the bomb doors open above her. This would be one hell of a surprise.
Gladys stumbled after her. This wouldn't work. She cursed under her breath. For all her strength, she had failed. She'd have to do something about this. This was so embarrassing. Now she saw a rope-ladder fall from the sky. The woman was escaping. She gritted her teeth and tried to follow her, but the pain was too much. She saw the leather-clad fighter disappear in the air, screaming:
"You'll pay for this!"
Gladys lifted her fist helplessly. She had failed to defeat her, but the Master's operation had also collapsed. She was somewhat proud of this, the fading adrenaline returning her pain.
Then, she realized what they were planning to do and dropped to the ground, shouting at everybody around her to do the same.
-
Great action sequence, and really enjoying how it's playing out :thanks:
-
When the explosions finally died down, Gladys looked up. Her head was swimming as she realized the destruction the air-ships had left in their wake. Most of the mine had collapsed, the buildings were burning and there were dead everywhere. She shuddered and felt sick. Eventually, she could hold it no longer and threw up. It took a while for her to recover. When she finally caught her breath, she realized that she was hurt. She saw medics advance through the treacherous terrain, recovering the wounded and marking the dead. Amidst the burning wasteland, she finally understood that this was war. The illusions she had harbored about an honorable duel with other warriors were shattered. She stumbled off to reach the communications post, trying to ignore the screams of the dying. Then, with sudden clarity, she stopped, bound her wound and returned on the ravaged battlefield. With absolute calm and devotion, she began clearing the rubble, helping the rescuers find the wounded, carrying them to safety and doing what she could to save them.
When she finally collapsed after hours of labor, the other medics brought her to the field hospital. There, she found the Colonel.
He looked at her, impressed, and said:
"Private, that was quite the fight you gave. Excellent. I have taken the opportunity to promote you. Consider yourself a PFC."
She mumbled:
"Thank you, sir."
"Also, there might be some decorations in your future, but due to the ... specific nature of your gender and ... well, physique, we won't be able to publish this. Not until we find a way to put it in the right words. For now, thank you."
In the background, she saw people with cameras walk around, preparing to film the events. She asked:
"Sir, what is going on?"
"Ah, we may have found a chink in the Master's armor. His public image is his strength. And this, bombing innocent workers, might not have been his best action. Also, the greed for gold is a horrible motivation for a philanthropist, isn't it?"
Gladys nodded, but said:
"Sir, I doubt that his motive was simple greed."
He shrugged.
"We'll see to that."
-
Three days later, the Master called his helpers to his chambers. He sat there, smiling gently.
"My pupils, it is always good to prepare a contingency. I am sad to have lost so many of our followers, but their sacrifice hasn't been in vain."
Ruth looked at Velasquez who was sitting right next to her. Clearly, his plan had failed. She wondered why. The idea had been pretty good: They had infiltrated helpers into the workforce over several months, had prepared their assault meticulously and been ready for anything. The sudden appearance of these mysterious soldiers, probably Americans, had been a surprise, but nothing out of the ordinary. Still, the plan had quickly collapsed when they started loosing their armor.
The strange, enormous woman was the same. Where did she come from? Where did she get her strength?
Ruth was certain: She'd have to train harder and match this fighter. Match? Hah! Overcome her was more like it. She'd outdo this lumbering giant in strength, speed and aggression. She'd have to ask Hilde. There must be ways to increase her power and fierceness even further.
Jacob was calm. He explained:
"The contingency was simple: Now that the major gold mine for worldwide production is knocked out, it is our opportunity to make an offer to the world. Without an ongoing supply of gold, financial stability in international trade is difficult. Happily, we can guarantee this stability. For now, let them suffer."
Velasquez gave him a confused look:
"What? We did this for money?"
"Not at all, my student. Just the opposite. With our fleet of airships, we will soon control international trade. We will set standards and gently meld the World towards unity. This was the first step, more will follow."
-
Collateral damage :-X
-
A few days later, Gladys had recovered enough to resume her training schedule. She was determined to improve herself further. The professor was quite happy about this, taking the opportunity to measure her changes and bodily parameters. The other soldiers were skeptical. Some of them suggested they should also be allowed to receive the treatment, but the majority was more than a little afraid of this. There were rumors of what had happened to earlier prototypes and hushed talk of hidden graves on the base's area.
For Gladys, all this was far away. She was amazed by the changes she had gone through and greatly enjoyed herself. Right then, she was lying on a bench and pressed ridiculous amounts of weight, her biceps swelling as she lowered the bar down. Then, slowly, she pushed it back up, her brow erupting in sweat. The pump felt incredible. She racked the barbell and sat up. She jotted down her results and got to her feet. The quartermaster had finally provided her with appropriate training dress and she was feeling good. She looked at the mirror and marveled at her reflection. She wore an olive-green leotard and some wide pants. Her top barely covered her wide chest and accentuated her small waist, her armor-plate pectorals straining against the fabric. She had adapted the Charles-Atlas-programme to her now improved physique and was training hard to match the Greek goddess look she had decided on.
Grinning, she went through a series of flexes and finally went into a most-muscular pose. She blushed as the frame of bulging muscles formed a circle under her bull-neck. Once again, the feeling of moisture between her legs made her moan. She'd have to do something about this. Soon.
-
Bigger and stronger and BIGGER and STRONGER... :woohoo:
-
Hilde was surprised. When Ruth had returned, the woman had been very angry and frustrated. She had left to go to the training chambers and had stayed there for quite some time, working herself into sweaty numbness. Eventually, she had come back and had ordered her into her room. Ordered. Hilde had been so astonished, she had simply complied. She wondered why, but before she could, Ruth had come in from the bathroom, all clean and fresh-smelling. Before she could say anything, the muscular woman had walked over to her and forced her on her knees. She had pushed her face to the ground and said:
"Stay down."
Hilde had asked:
"Why? What is going on?"
The Master's assistant had just grunted and reached over for her riding crop. Before she could say a thing, Hilde had found herself tied to the bed spread-eagled. After an initial feeling of irritation, she had accepted this, unsure of what Ruth wanted to tell her. She had decided to just let it happen. However, she felt a slight pang of panic rise up in her when Ruth had snapped open her switchblade and quickly cut open her clothes. The woman looked down on her victim and said:
"I will become the greatest and most cruel and savage warrior that ever lived. You will train me and you will become my servant and retainer."
The lying woman gasped as Ruth slid her finger in her exposed snatch.
She moaned:
"Yes, mistress ..."
-
:what: :wow: (these little emoticons sure can sum it up ;))
-
Thank you for your ongoing support, solitariodude. I really appreciate this.
Since I might be writing a short vignette on the side, do you have any special wishes?
Any things you like to have in a story?
-
The squad found Gladys suspended from a bar by her feet, hanging several feet above the ground. She had a steel plate in her hand and did very slow "sit-ups" if you would call them this way. Every time she moved up, her abdominals bunched into a tight network of muscle. She grunted as she pulled herself up again. The boys watched her for a while. Finally, Washington said:
"Van Rothe? What the hell are you doing?"
She lowered herself down and hung head down.
"Fifty. I'm training. You should too."
"Ah, there's no way you're going to trick me into anything like this. Remember the last time we tried to do a circle with you?" He looked at his comrades. There were shrugs and nods. "Took us three days to get rid of all the cramps and sores."
"Too bad."
"Besides, you being a guinea pig makes it a little unfair."
She shrugged, which looked odd since she was still hanging upside-down and dropped the weight.
"So, what do you really want?"
"Well, Oswald, I mean the lieutenant, suggested we should take an evening off."
"Fine."
"We wanted to ask you if you want to come along."
"Really?"
"Really. You're on our squad, so you come along."
"But I have nothing to wear ..."
The squad-mates grinned stupidly and pushed Yorkow to the front. Washington explained:
"Turns out Yorkow is actually a tailor. So he made this or you."
The corporal set down a box and blushed.
"Have fun. We'll pick you up at six."
-
Hmmm, for some reason, those emoticons didn't get shown. I was saying WHAT? and WOW! as to Ruth's new darker side. As far as what I'd like to see in one of your tales, I'm content to just have you come up with something. I've been impressed with the way you flesh out stories and don't just throw out some "wham-bam-thank you ma'am" tale that's good for a lot of wankers out there. It takes a lot of time and effort to create a good tale that keeps the reader entertained and I admire your tenacity in keeping up with as much as you produce. Thanks again for the entertaining reading :clap:
-
At five to six, Gladys heard a car stop in front of the barracks. She checked her hair and make-up, found it acceptable and took her handbag. She was aware that a woman should always be fashionably late, but she was also a soldier now, so she decided to go with that. She stood up, slipped into her shoes and walked outside. It was funny to see the men in their civilian clothes for once. They had crammed themselves into a Moon Roadster and looked sharp in their suits. As she stood there, there were quite a few gaping mouths, followed by some wolf-whistles.
She was impressive, so much was true.
Standing ridiculously tall in her heels, she had plaited her hair into a very complex but astonishing style that enhanced her features. The dress was shorter than expected but showed off her long, powerful legs and womanly hips. Her small waist was further emphasized and it somehow managed to add some softness to her humongous shoulders. Also, the neckline was low enough to show off her full bust.
For a moment, she thought herself facing a bunch of apes.
In the end, they managed to make enough room for her to sit in the car, even if that meant that Yorkow and Washington had to ride on the foot-boards.
As the car rolled along, she asked:
"So, guys, where are we going?"
Oswald, who was driving, said:
"It's a surprise. You'll like it."
"I can't wait."
Somehow, Gladys now realized that she was definitely an adult now. She felt independent, but at the same time, she wondered what her mother would say.
Deep down, she knew and she dreaded it.
-
After a drive across the empty and savage landscape that surrounded the base, they reached the next larger town. The lights were on, there was music in the air and people were just going to the cinema or having an evening stroll with their loved ones. The soldiers, returning to civilization after weeks of isolation, looked around in curiosity. Eventually, Oswald stopped the car in front of the library.
Gladys noticed that there were blissful grins on all faces. She had to ask:
"We're going to the library?"
Washington smiled and said:
"Yes. Blissful love of knowledge!"
Yorkow added:
"The pure clarity of spirit!"
They guffawed as they climbed from the car. Oswald held out his hand to help Gladys from the car. She gladly took it, even though she was tall enough to do so and was probably strong enough to lift the whole vehicle. Still, gentlemanly conduct had to be observed. Sensing she would only get more stupid answers, Gladys decided to wait. Maybe they would surprise her.
In a way, they did.
Once inside, the men immediately went to the bookshelves and picked out a few tomes, soon immersing themselves in their reading. Gladys was surprised. This was a night on the town?
She asked Oswald what he was doing, but he just shushed her. Humbled, she went to one of the shelves and browsed it, finally finding a book that she might enjoy. She found one and started reading. Soon, she was completely engrossed by it. Then, all of a sudden, there was a loud noise next to her. She jumped up and saw the men stand next to her, Oswald having dropped his book with a bang. He said:
"Enough for now. Let's have some real fun."
He took her by the hand and led her to the rear of the library, where a mousy librarian held open a concealed door.
Gladys was skeptical.
-
They walked past the librarian and went down a winding metal staircase. After a few steps, it opened up onto a large cave that had been fitted with electric lights and rows of shelves. Gladys asked:
"What's that supposed to be? A depot?"
Oswald grinned and said:
"Wait for it."
She could see that her companions were sniggering or alive with expectations. They were excited. She wondered what they were up to. After the joke with the book, she was a little annoyed. Also, she would have preferred to go to a fair or the cinema, not to some musty old cave.
They reached the ground floor and walked past some more shelves until they finally found a pair of large and heavy doors. There was some low noise coming from it. Oswald stepped forward and knocked on it.
Rap-rap-raprap it went.
After a few moments, a small peephole opened. Oswald looked at the glass bead. There was a voice from the other side:
"What do you want?"
"I wish to ease my spirit and sing among the angels."
"I see." The door was unlocked. "Come in, friend."
The door slid open and music filled the air. Gladys was surprised. An underground theater?
-
There was unfamiliar music. Jazz, she thought. Her parents didn't approve of it, but she liked how it made her feet tap. They stepped inside and found themselves in an elegant nightclub. The walls were paneled with deep-brown wood, there were polished brass ornaments and soft green glass decorations everywhere. Above them, there was a large electric chandelier made of crystal. A band was playing in the background, there were pool tables and a large dance-floor. Several people in evening wear were flying over the parquet. Gladys was amazed. The weeks and months of drab campaign life, the endless training, the battles, all this had accustomed her to a drab world and now, there was glamor.
She looked at her shorter companions and asked:
"What kind of place is this?"
Washington grinned and said:
"It's a speakeasy. Never heard of it?"
"They sell liquor here?"
"That's the whole point."
Yorkow added:
"That's what we've been after the whole time."
There were more noises from the back insisting on starting. Gladys was uncertain. She had been brought up as a disciplined young woman and illegally drinking alcohol in a hidden premise was hardly acceptable.
"I don't know if I should ..."
Washington took her by the hand and led her to the table. Just as he was about to pull back the chair to let her sit down, he was accosted by a waiter:
"Members of the band are not allowed on the guest floor."
"I'm not with the band."
"Still, you're not ... expected to be here."
He turned to Gladys, checking that she was indeed a woman and added:
"Has this man been molesting you, Miss?"
"Not at all. He's a friend."
"A friend? Well, I'm sorry, but he is making the other guests uncomfortable. I'll have to ask you to leave."
She could see that Washington stared at him in absolute hatred, when she heard Oswald interrupt.
"Sir, this man is a member of the armed forces and a war hero. I expect you can serve him anyway." He pulled out a roll of bills. "And here's the official document, signed by the treasurer."
The waiter looked around, took the money and said:
"I didn't see he was your assistant, sir."
"Fine, then."
Oswald invited the pair to sit down.
"Let's drink."
-
Nice little twist ;)
-
Damn, I really appreciate your mixture of historic context, character development, and such. You're a good writer El_Roy!
Thank you!
-
Whoa! Thank you very much.
-
Deep below the airship, the freighter relentlessly advanced through the waves. There was a sharp breeze, but the engines stabilized the dirigible on its course. Ruth looked down from the observation deck. She turned to the chief officer and said:
"Mister Schroeder, bring us down on the target. Execute the rapid drop maneuver."
The officer shouted his orders.
"Prepare boarding crews! Helmsman, descent thirty degrees, full speed ahead! Radio officer, deploy interference system!"
Below, the ship's crew was unaware of their approaching doom. The radio operator was just transmitting the ship's current location and status when he realized that the device no longer worked. Instead, it spewed out a load of garbled sounds without any meaning. He tested the connections, tried to find the error and suddenly stopped when he heard the voice loud and clear.
"This is airship Liberator. Do not resist. Surrender, and you will be spared. Fight, and you will be destroyed."
He jumped up and ran out:
"Captain! Captain! We're being attacked!"
-
The captain looked at the operator and asked:
"By whom? There's no one around."
The young man pointed up. The captain's gaze followed his sign and his eyes opened wide.
"Oh my God. What is this?"
"They order us to give up. They said they would let us live."
"Order? No one gives me order. As the captain, I am last and only master after God himself. Prepare to defend the ship!"
"But this is just a civilian ship. We have no weapons."
"Still, I won't hand my ship over to pirates."
He ran to his cabin and grabbed his pistol. He checked it and released the safety. Before he could act, however, he found himself thrown to the ground and beaten. Within seconds, a flurry of blows rained down on him. He passed out.
When he awoke again, he was bound and gagged. He could see that soldiers were loading his cargo into the airship. Then, a woman stepped in front of him and said:
"Captain. We will spare your life and the life of your crew. However, this was the last time. If we find you again, we will kill each and every one of you. You have been warned."
He tried to catch a look of her face, but the sun shone in his eyes. He tried to say something, but in the end could only nod.
Soon, the machine lifted off, leaving the freighter empty and chaotic. After several minutes, he managed to free himself.
He freed the radio operator and said:
"Inform the company. There's trouble!"
-
While Oswald, Washington and Yorkow were enjoying their drinks and becoming ever more relaxed and cheerful, Gladys still stared at her glass. She was really unsure. She had taken a nip at her aunt's sherry when she was a kid, but her parents had definitely tried to bring her up without the temptation of alcohol. She had found it odd that they both liked to drink a glass of cognac or some other fancy stuff in the evening, while at the same time wholeheartedly supporting prohibition. Also, her father kept a well-stocked bar that he refilled after every vacation in Europe.
All this was very hard to come to terms with. Also, her changed body furthered the confusion. Her mother would never accept her like that. Her father ... She didn't even want to think about it. What could she do? Should she stay away from her family from now on? What about the future?
Washington interrupted her thoughts:
"You're already all pensive and haven't even finished your first drink. Usually, it's the other way round."
She sighed:
"I know. It's just that I'm having second thoughts."
"About the liquor? You should. It's quite diluted and probably just moonshine. If you value your eyesight, you should stay away from it."
"It's not about the liquor. It's about my life."
He frowned, smiling:
"If you're like this before you're drunk, I don't want to see you when you are."
Washington downed his glass and added:
"You know what, we're going to dance now. That'll show all those buggers. A black man dancing with a woman a head taller than him. It'll blow their puny minds."
He got up, held out his hand and she stood up.
Oswald grinned as the pair walked on the dance-floor. The other patrons, who had already eyed the group with a certain disdain, now stared at them in disgust. He calmly readied his knuckleduster. It might be useful later on.
-
Minutes later, the pair whirled over the dance-floor. Actually, the whirling had taken a little time. Gladys had enjoyed a traditional upper-class education and the idea to dance to jazz music seemed a little foreign to her. However, Washington smiled at her and quickly led her through the basic steps. She turned out to be an excellent learner and an avid pupil. He was amazed by her quickness that belied her large frame and her mass.
Jokingly, he shouted:
"I'm not going to do any lifting on you!"
Before he could react, she grabbed him and twirled him through the air, him landing without missing a beat. He wiped away the sweat from his brow and stared at her:
"Whoa!"
She grinned:
"That's fun. Let's do it again!"
The band saw that those two were in the right mood and upped the beat even more. For Washington, it was odd to lean back and accept his partner as an equal, but what could he do? The towering young woman was all but unstoppable.
As a result, he found himself lifted, thrown, whirled and swung as the band kept up its frenetic pace.
Finally, they seemed to tire and switched to a calmer, more romantic number.
As the singer launched into a soft, gentle love-song, they closed in and embraced, slowly foxtrotting along.
Oswald had watched them blissfully and had softly smiled at Yorkow, finally pointing at the group of young men approaching the couple. He said:
"Finish your drink. There's going to be trouble."
-
Arse-kicking time :D
-
Dear readers, just a short information for you: I will probably update very irregularly over the next two weeks. The usual schedule will return eventually, but for now, there are some things I have to fix. Also, my internet connection will be very unstable.
Still, give me some time and there will be more stories to come!
Thank you for your patience.
-
Here we go:
Moments later, the first table was flying at the young men.
It all had started quite harmlessly, but had quickly degenerated into insults and attacks. The men had approached the dancers and had made it clear that men like Washington were not welcome here. Washington had looked at them and asked:
"Why?"
This had prompted one of them to hit him squarely in the face. Now, if he hadn't enjoyed a couple of drinks, the whole thing might have been over in a second. After all, Washington was an excellent fighter. However, as it was, he caught the fist right to his jaw and stumbled backwards, spitting out a line of blood. He sighed and added:
"That's all the reason you got? Fine by me."
He lifted his fists, ducked under the next blow and jabbed at the young man's head, surprising him with the sudden riposte. The others howled and joined in, quickly surrounding him.
Or rather, they tried, but suddenly, one of them found himself lifted high in the air. As he screamed, the others turned around and only now realized that the dance partner wasn't just tall, she was also strong.
Holding the man above her head in her outstretched arms, she growled:
"Leave us alone. Now."
Instead of doing the rational thing, they charged, somehow feeling provoked by the sudden flare of emancipation in the ballroom. Gladys threw the man at his comrades, sending them sprawling on the ground. Meanwhile, Washington had managed to grab his initial aggressor and had twisted his arm, holding him tight. He grinned:
"Not so tough now, aren't you?"
Sadly, the management decided that it needed no brawl in here. The young men's friends also joined the fray. Oswald got up, struck the first comer with his knuckleduster and shouted at the band:
"Play is something quick! We want to dance!"
Yorkow jumped to his feet, grabbed a bottle and threw it at the first bouncer coming into sight.
This would be a night to remember.
-
Due to the intoxication and the numerous blows they suffered, it was hard for everybody to reconstruct what had actually happened. Bruised as they were, they still seemed to have enjoyed it. Washington had a vague recollection of people trying to gang up on Gladys, only to find themselves picked up and thrown. There was a strange notion of a flying piano and of the following musical crash. Also, he thought he had kissed her at some point, but maybe that was just a fantasy.
Oswald had suffered a lot at the hand of the bouncers. He was quite certain that they were just as trashed, but he still found his arm covered in bruises and a weird pain in his leg. A visit to the medic showed him a stab wound that somebody had stitched without much talent and hesitation. Oddly enough, he had no idea how that had happened, but he could remember Gladys downing several shots of booze, which might account for the weird scenes he remembered afterwards. There was music in it, also a lot of emotion. Weird.
Yorkow had taken the opportunity and made short work of the attackers before climbing on stage and grabbing the fiddle one of the musicians had left. It had been a long time, but he had seized the opportunity and made the wood sing.
Gladys just had a monumental headache. Her head felt as if wrapped in cotton and her mouth tasted as if something had died in it. She was forced to stay in bed, angry at herself and vowing to never drink again. When Washington came to visit, however, she blushed and was unable to say why. There was a feeling, though.
-
Before any of them could clear their minds, there was an alarm. Groaning, they clambered to the briefing room. As they sat down, they exchanged unhappy glances, hoping for a false positive. The Captain strode in and waited for them to shuffle to attention. He sighed, aware of what had happened the night before. He said:
"I'm sorry to say, but there's work to be done. Eat some aspirin, get rid of your hangover and get ready for battle."
The soldiers managed to get ready and he continued:
"The Master is on the hunt again. His troops have raided several ships on international lines and have stolen the merchandise. They have made credible threats to the sailors and they now refuse to do their jobs. France, Great Britain and the United States have offered to provide escorts for ships, but this is proving to be highly ineffectual. For now, there haven't been any killings, but the Navy is looking for volunteers to take the risk."
Oswald asked:
"What's that got to do with us?"
"The higher-ups have suggested a new line of action: As far as they are concerned, the Master is planning to establish his organization as a political entity, using Cuba as their base of operations. They plan to pressure the League of Nations to accept this by restricting trade."
"So?"
"So we need to find out about the Master."
Oswald looked at the rest of the crew:
"I don't get it."
"Everything hinges on him. The plan is to make somebody join the operation, infiltrate it and give us data on his ulterior motive."
"Didn't we settle on World domination?"
"We're not sure about that. Besides, our time is running out. We wouldn't want him to join forces with our competitors, so we need to, let's put it like a reporter: 'dig up some dirt' on him."
"So it's a spy game now?"
"Exactly."
"Now I get it."
-
Ruth watched as the air-dock workers unloaded the cargo holds of the airships. Crate after crate emerged from the holds. Clerks were swarming around, jotting down the various contents and filing them. At the same time, refueled dirigibles took off, either to bring in new spoils or to distribute the "liberated" wares. The size of the operation was staggering. Apparently, the Master was now distributing equipment and material all over the world. She had asked why, but the explanation had turned out to be long-winded and technical. Apparently, it had something to do with helping people in need help themselves, but she found it harder and harder to concentrate. Hilde's work was excellent. Her tremendous aggressiveness allowed her to out-fight any of the sparring partners and the strength training she was putting herself through was paying off.
She now sported a thoroughly honed, rock-hard muscular body, with little to no flab. She was still lightly built to allow for the speed she craved, but the strange oriental techniques Jacob's people had taught her meant she was able to shatter bricks with her bare hands and to smash watermelons with her kicks. The last feat was especially impressive, since apparently, a head was about as hard as one of these fruit.
She had forced Hilde to join her training regimen and the older woman was responding acceptably to it. She wasn't really motivated, but Ruth pushed her and finally forced her. Hilde, on the other hand, was amazed by the effect of her psychological method. Every brutality made her even prouder. Slowly, the pair was realizing they were lovers in their own strange way.
-
:wow: that last bit was certainly a twist
-
Finally, she couldn't bear it anymore and asked:
"Master, I'm fully aware that we are now trying to help these people and that this is all furthering your plans, but I really need to fight someone."
Jacob looked up and said:
"Now is not the time. It won't be long, but right now, we are building trust. We can't show aggression outside of the liberation missions of our airships."
"That is no longer a challenge. They all surrender when they see us."
"There's a saying: Fear makes fighting unnecessary."
"Exactly. I have spent all this time to become a better fighter and now there's no one up to me."
"Rejoice, then."
"With all due respect, but wasn't your concept to employ people at what they are best at?"
The Master seemed to turn into Jacob for a moment:
"This is not what you were called for."
Ruth stood up. The other students were rather shocked. Seeing her in her full glory was impressive to say the least. She seemed to radiate an aura of domination and control.
"This is what I am now. If I do not do what I do best, what should I live for?"
The Master, his composure regained, said:
"I will find something. Trust me."
-
Gladys, Oswald and Yorkow followed the nurse through the gardens of the splendidly beautiful and elegantly designed neurological clinic. Everything was spick and span, the lawn was perfectly trimmed. It wouldn't look out of place on a golf course. Gladys was strangely aware that her parents' mansion was nearby. She hadn't seen them in almost a year and their contact had been minimal. She occasionally wrote them letters, but everything was thoroughly censored. She was a little ashamed of her having neglected them. She'd ask Oswald whether she could visit them later on.
The group passed several men and women in wheel chairs or sitting on benches. They all wore the white pajamas and the patterned dressing gowns that seemed to be normal around here. Most of them had a calm, distant expression, which probably came from the drugs they received.
Eventually, they reached a gazebo in which a slim, tired man sat. He had just pulled out a cigarette and was fumbling with the lighter. He seemed distracted and confused. Oswald shot the nurse a look. She nodded silently.
He gave the older man a light and said:
"Sir, do you have a moment?"
The man only now seemed to realize that they were there and replied hazily:
"I have all the time in the world."
"Thank you. We're agents in charge of the Master's investigation. You appear to have been in contact with one of his companions. Can you give us any information on her?"
The man sighed, then answered:
"I wish I could. It is as if I had a black-out. Everything is gone. Everything. I woke up and I was as if I were a new-born."
"Isn't there anything you can tell us?"
"I'm sorry. I wish I could."
Oswald sighed. This was pointless. You had the Bureau's former assistant director in front of you and he was useless. What could he do? He looked around, hoping for an inspiration, when he suddenly followed the assistant director's gaze.
He'd have to ask Gladys for a big service.
-
"I'm not going to do this. That's not what I signed up for."
Gladys was really angry. Oswald made a sign for her to keep it down.
"For God's sake, van Roithe, this isn't some game. We need him to talk, he won't, so we make him."
"Yes, fine, but not like this. Not me. Can't you hide some ... courtesan for this?"
Oswald smiled upon hearing the term. Somehow, he kept forgetting Gladys wasn't one of the boys.
"We don't have time for that and I want as few people as possible to know of this. What we're doing here isn't exactly legal and probably not too healthy for this guy. Still, we have to do what we have to do."
"But ... this?"
"You don't know it yet, but your country will ask much worse from you before this is over."
He gave her a tired and blank look. She still hesitated. He continued:
"Besides, we're going to be around to look after you. We just want him to talk, that's all."
"I can't help it, but I don't like it at all."
"I know, but we don't have much choice."
-
Ten minutes later, Oswald and Yorkow had managed to distract the nurse and had led her away. The gazebo was now out of sight and Gladys was happy to see that there was absolutely no one around except for the creepy man she was supposed to shock back to reality. She waited for the last remains of conversation to fade, then stood in front of the meager former agent. He stared at her intently.
Gladys swallowed and said:
"You've been looking at my arms."
He gurgled:
"Yes ..."
"They are pretty big. Do you want to see them? i feel a little ashamed about them. People say they're not very womanly."
He instantly seemed to lose his cool. Gladys felt repulsed by this pathetic creature.
"No, please do. I would really like to see them."
"Are you sure? I wouldn't want you to be disgusted."
He almost choked:
"Go ahead. Please ..."
She nodded, did her best to smile and began to unbutton her uniform jacket. However, the man interrupted:
"No, please, roll up the sleeves. I want to see."
She was irritated, but unbuttoned her cuffs and began rolling them up slowly. She revealed her forearms which she already considered quite enormous for man or woman alike, then reached her upper arms. Instantly, her biceps blocked the fabric. She hated when that happened. She always felt constricted by these clothes, but these were the only fatigues they had at this size. Since she had continued her training and increased the strain she put on her muscles, she had grown even bigger. She'd have to visit a tailor soon. She mumbled:
"I'm sorry, but it's so big I can't really roll it up."
With a sudden, awkward movement, she flexed inadvertently and instantly, the seams in her sleeve popped. She cursed under her breath.
"I hate it when that happens."
His mouth was now open and it seemed to stay that way.
-
And now the drooling starts :funny:
-
Gladys grumbled and said:
"I'll have to mend it." She shot him a dismissive glance. "You're enjoying yourself, aren't you?"
"Quite ..."
"Well, then."
She took a miniature sewing kit from her pocket and added:
"This thing is standard issue, yet the guys keep forgetting it. It's actually quite useful."
Carefully, she removed her shirt and revealed the complex contraption that was her brassiere. The assistant director's eye began to tear. She took it off and laid it out, examining the popped seam. Her hands moved quickly as she assessed the damage, then she began working, her huge muscles working in smooth elegance. When she was done, she noticed that the older man had edged closer.
He whispered:
"Can I touch them? Please ..."
-
The tall woman hesitated. This man was disgusting in his weak, sniveling lasciviousness. The idea of him touching her was atrocious. She narrowed her eyes and swallowed her pride.
"You may."
Immediately, his quivering hands laid themselves on her enormous arm. He gasped as he followed the ridges under her skin. He mumbled:
"Please, flex it. Flex it!"
With a practiced move, she extended her arm, rolled her fist and lifted it, almost carrying him with her as she squeezed her biceps into the swollen, rock-hard ball it became when contracted. He gurgled blissfully as his fingers tried to force the incredible resistance of her body. He fumbled with it and tried to squeeze her upper arm, but to no avail. Instead of becoming exasperated, he started to drool.
Then, in a moment of complete abandon, he craned forward and licked her skin.
Instantly, Gladys exploded into fury.
She grabbed his insolent face and screamed:
"What are you doing?"
With a sudden motion, she lifted him up, his feet dangling helplessly as he rose a foot off the ground and tossed him on the hard wooden floor of the gazebo. He landed with a crash and splintering, but she was upon him. She straddled him and was about to sink her hammer-like fist into his face, when the others ran to her and tried desperately to hold her.
The dazed man gasped and said:
"No, don't stop her. Don't ... I remember! I remember!"
She hit him anyway, almost crushing his jaw.
-
By the time the nurse had sent them away, Gladys had slipped her shirt back on, angry with Oswald for having forced her through this. At the same time, she was impressed by the effect she had on men. On one hand, this guy was clearly a distgusting pervert, on the other hand, she had noticed that all the other men shot her fascinated glances whenever they could. Well, not all men, some even seemed quite disgusted and somehow afraid of their status, but most somehow enjoyed looking at her.
The soldiers left the sanatarium and climbed in the car. Oswald asked:
"Did you get everything he said?"
Yorkow answered:
"Sure, but I'm not certain with the orthography. Your language has so few letters and there's really no telling what they're supposed to sound like."
Gladys interjected:
"Maybe we should have let some native speaker take notes."
Oswald shot her an angry glance, while Yorkow grinned. He added:
"Don't worry, I did a Berlitz course. For the army, it's always been enough."
She said:
"Give me the notes, I'll check that everything is correct."
"Have fun."
"What is this supposed to be?"
"That's a 'g'."
"My friend, that is not a 'g'. Not in a hundred years."
"Where I come from, we do them this way."
Oswald interrupted their little game:
"That's all very nice, but we have to act quickly. I'm sending a team to the house where this secretary of his stayed. Maybe they can find clues."
Gladys stopped jotting down errors and asked:
"I wonder whether the secretary was this woman we fought in South Africa?"
-
Ruth was sweating. Even though she had adopted a thinner, ligher uniform than her usual leathers, the humid tropical weather made her feel as if she had been doused in water. At the same time, she was enjoying herself tremendously. Since she had arrived in Southern China, she had been fighting. Jacob had been true to his words. The place was a quagmire of fighting gangs, warlords and political agents trying to get the area under their control. The Master had sent her here to carve out a small island of stability, but that meant forcing the other factions into a cease-fire first. She only had a small group of elite fighters at her disposal and had already managed to make a lot of enemies.
Right now, she was breaking heads in an illegal casino one of the warlords used for funding. She had quickly disposed of the bouncers and was just jumping up on a large man in an ill-fitting tuxedo who tried to pulverize her with his fists. She wrapped her legs around his bull-neck and squeezed, all the while fighting off his attempts to free himself by sending her rock-hard fists against his hands. The colossus stumbled as she compressed his throat. She rolled herself up by her abdominals and looked at his reddening face:
"Enjoying yourself?"
The man gasped:
"I will kill you."
"I seriously doubt that. Surrender or I'll kill you."
"Never!"
"Is that your final word? Might be your last?"
She gave him another squeeze.
"Gah! I give up, please, please don't kill me!"
She hesitated. She wanted him to die. Just to prove that she could. On the other hand, he might still be useful. She lowered herself down and rolled on the floor, returning to a fighting stance. The man was gasping for air, his face still crimson. She walked to him and said:
"Swear you'll serve me."
"I swear. They told me about you. You're the Master's agent, Milady!"
"That's right. I expect you and your people to serve me well and I will guarantee their prosperity. If not, I will guarantee their burials."
Ruth squirmed internally at the corny dialogue, but this was what they expected.
-
Later that evening, Ruth was enjoying the company of several young men and women. She had found them on one of the swimming bordellos that lay anchored on the river and were part of the growing empire she was carving out for the Master. Somehow, Hilde's treatment had unleashed all the repressed elements of her mind. It was surprising to see what she was doing now, comparing herself to her former state of mind. It felt so far away. Ever since she had joined the Master, she had become more and more confident and thus, liberated.
She grinned as a young woman, she had forgotten her name, sunk between her legs and began to lick her vigorously. For a second, she thought about crushing her skull between her thighs. The oblivious victim continued, lapping at her clitoris. In the end, Ruth let her live. She smiled as the orgasm began building in her. She gasped, still giving the woman's head a little squeeze, before rolling to her side, allowing one of the men to mount her. She had been surprised to find that she enjoyed both ways. As he rammed his cock in her, she grunted and moaned. She knew she was perfectly able to destroy each and every one of them, and this gave her a wonderful sense of superiority.
Occasionally, she made them worship her as their goddess. A bodhisattwa in a way. Not a very helpful one, but in a way ... She grunted. A bodhisattwa.
-
A few hours later, Ruth was dozing amidst her pleasurers when she was awoken by an unexpected noise. With lightning quickness, she jumped up and hurled herself at the intruder. There was a flurry of hands as she tried to seize her opponent, but the silent attacker was surprisingly quick. Every feint was quickly understood and countered, every attack dodged. Frustrated, Ruth increased the speed of her assault. The fight spilled out of the chamber, on the narrow gangway that followed the ship's side.
The river sparkled in the moonlight, but Ruth had no eyes for the marvels. Instead, she managed to push her foe further away. However, she was forced to admit that this person was just as fast and agile as she was. She realized that she would be hopelessly outclassed should a second attacker appear. At the same time, the assailant was slowing, clearly exhausted by her relentless advance.
Ruth spotted an opening and sent her full force into it. For mere fragments of seconds, she managed to touch the mysterious foe, but she pinched his skin and tore into it. There was a surprised scream and Ruth attacked with renewed vigor, blood splattering all around.
Blow after blow hit home. Finally, the opponent was reeling. She pressed on, finally cornering him against a wall. Behind it, a very loud pair was enjoying the lush night. The attacker gasped for air, struggling under Ruth's iron grip. She asked:
"Who are you and what do you want?"
"I am Little Phoenix. I was sent by my Master to test his disciple's disciple."
"What do you mean?"
"Your master has brought you here. The one who taught him requests your presence. He wishes to see what he is teaching you."
"I never thought Jacob had a master."
"Jacob?"
"This is his name."
"A bizarre name."
"I don't care. Where do I meet your teacher?"
"Follow me. There is a cart waiting."
"A cart?"
"It is more discreet."
Ruth agreed. He handed her some peasant's garb and she left a message for Jacob.
As the cart rolled away on the dirt road, there was a resounding crash. She saw the bordello explode and erupt into flame. She turned to Little Phoenix.
"Did you know of this?"
"You have made a lot of enemies. I thought picking you up early would be a good idea."
Deep inside her, she felt a deep anguish at the death of the people that had just died for her, but she swallowed and forced it away into the abyss of her mind.
-
Gladys stood in front of the entryway of her parents' house. She had spend a lot of time there, endless summers, harsh winters. She had been homeschooled during the first years, her parents having insisted on her having a correct education. This had also been necessary due to the fact that her mother had been forced to accompany her husband all over the world, including Europe during and after the Great War. There had been talks of sending her to a boarding school in Switzerland, but her mother had preferred to keep her close. As her only child to survive the hardships of birth, she was precious and irreplaceable. Only now did she realize what weight she forced onto her mother's shoulders by pursuing this life.
Still, she had to do it.
She was committed whole-heartedly and the success had proven her right. This war had to be won before it erupted fully, the skirmishes growing bloodier and bloodier. Soon, it would explode into a full-on confrontation. Gladys wasn't going to disappoint her country.
She took a deep breath and walked away. Once victory was there, she would return.
-
Nice bit of background info on Gladys :thanks:
-
Yorkow grinned:
"I haven't been to Switzerland in a while."
Washington shrugged:
"I've never been to Europe, let alone Switzerland. When where you there?"
"Before the Revolution and after the Revolution, as things go."
They were walking along Lake Geneva, following the Captain and Gladys, who was marveling at the sight. She had turned into a regular tourist upon reaching Le Havre and had not since stopped. Just like the others, she had exchanged her military fatigues for a more civilian outfit and as far as Washington was concerned, she was gorgeous. Tall, beautiful, bright and elegant, everything a man could wish for. He longed for her, but he had to admit, there wasn't much to be done.
The trail of the Master's assistant had gone cold, but some agents still tried to recover any clues. The house where she had lived had burned down, the inhabitants had disappeared. The Captain hoped they would be able to glean some information on the Master at his speech in Geneva, thus their trip to Europe. Maybe they'd even meet the mystery woman.
Someone had suggested using the opportunity to get a clean shot at the Master and to resolve this quickly, but the Captain had dismissed it. First of all, the United States did not want to irritate both Switzerland and the League itself. After all, they were only guests. Second, escalating the conflict at the present moment was seen as very dangerous. They had been warned against open conflict by government officials who suggested that as long as the depression continued, no wars would be payable.
As a result, this was the moment to be discreet.
-
Thanks for keeping this going. I could see Washington perservering in pursuit of Gladys ;)
-
By the time they came into the assembly hall, the South African delegate was speaking against the horrid aggression of the Master and his minions against his state. He was reciting the list of the victims of their attack and demanded that the League take action against this terrorist organization. When he ended, there was some applause, but it was clear that quite a few delegates remained calm and observed the reactions. Many of the smaller states and those who had recently fought for their freedom seemed unsure of what to make of this.
Then, the chairman announced the Master's speech.
A hush of anticipation went through the crowd. The man walked in. He seemed tall and gaunt, his shaved head and long beard giving him a monk-like appearance. He stepped on the podium and took his place at the pulpit. The murmurs ebbed down. He gazed on the audience with dark eyes and absolute calm.
Gladys was impressed. The team had been shown all kinds of photos of the man, but to see him in person was something different. He was wearing a black and red robe and placed a bony hand on the pulpit.
"Gentlemen. I thank you for this opportunity and I am glad to be welcomed in these holy halls. There have been many myths spread about my actions and goals. Today, I am here to tell you the truth. The truth will set us free and allow us all to achieve peace. My name is of no consequence. I am called the Master and those that follow me are my disciples. My organization has long stayed in the dark, but it is now ready to emerge. I have given it a name. It is the Ascension. I urge you to follow us on the way to peace and freedom. If you are willing, you will be liberated. If you are not, you will stay captive. If you oppose us, you will be destroyed. We have the means for all of them."
He paused to let this sink in.
"I am now declaring statehood and I look forward to your acceptance and recognition. Let us work together on a new world, a world of science and progress, a Paradise on Earth."
The Master closed his eyes for a moment, then, without a look back, walked out.
The delegates remained seating, unable to process what had just happened.
Gladys looked at her fellow soldiers.
Washington asked:
"Was this a declaration of war?"
The Captain nodded slowly.
-
Later, they were sitting in a café by the lake. The Captain took a sip of his coffee and asked:
"So, any thoughts?"
There were some hesitations. Yorkow was fumbling with his spoon, Gladys was still amazed by the sight and the whole diplomacy and international intrigue she was now involved in. Playing the piano on her father's evening receptions was one thing, actually planning measures against political enemies of the United States was something else. Washington was impressed by the fact that no one was impressed by his presence. Apparently, the proximity of the League of Nations building meant that the personnel of the café saw nothing at him just sitting there with his colleagues. He had even fumbled a "merci pour le café" to the server. Yorkow had squirmed at his pronunciation, but the server had just kept his neutral expression. As he lit a cigarette, he lifted the cup and said:
"To the Swiss!"
The others followed him reluctantly.
After they had drunk, Oswald said:
"I do have an idea. It's a bit far-fetched, but it might help."
The Captain nodded:
"Go ahead."
"If he wasn't the boss of an international cult of geniuses with his personal army, I'd say he's a carny."
Gladys asked:
"What's that?"
"Someone who works at a carnival. You know the guys: Big hats, big mustaches. Loud voices, mystical gurus from India or Tibet."
"I've been to the carnival once. It was a bit scary, but also really exciting."
"I know. I used to work there. Ran away from 'home'. I'm pretty certain that's a fake beard. One of our fakirs had one of those."
She asked:
"What did you do at the carnival?"
The Captain, eager to hear more of it scowled at her, but Oswald smiled and leaned back, picking out a cigar from his pocket.
"I mostly took care of the animals, but I also did some scaring. And so does this guy. His act is actually quite impressive, but it's still an act. He's the ringmaster and I'm not even sure his followers know that it's all just some insane show."
"But people get killed."
"Yes. That happens." He went silent for a moment, his gaze unfocused. "What I'm saying is that we should find out where this guy comes from. I'm almost certain I know people who know him. Good thing we're close to Paris."
Paris.
Gladys felt a pang of fear. The city of sin. The city of love.
Paris.
-
Days had passed. In her world of airships and fast cars, Ruth was unaccustomed to the slowness of the cart. They had left the city and began a seemingly endless westward journey to the mountains. They followed rivers and muddy roads. Little Phoenix drove the cart with calm patience, occasionally relayed by Ruth, who quickly got the hang of it. The short woman was impressed by her passenger's look. Compared to her, Ruth was both tall and very strong, her body large and powerful. Little Phoenix was unsure of what to make of it. After all, this was hardly appropriate for a woman. On the other hand, she was amazed by how she had handled herself. Most foreign women she had met had just screamed or fainted at the first sign of trouble. Ruth, on the other hand, attacked. With incredible ferocity. Somehow, she longed for such a power.
She had first seen her skills when they had been attacked a few days ago. They were set upon by a group of bandits/mercenaries/militia. Since the collapse of the central authority decades ago, these groups had become a common danger. As the men stepped into their way and demanded their money and further, worse things, Ruth had stood up, pulled out her pistol and gunned down three of them before they could react. She then charged, slicing two more before grabbing their boss and shooting him in the neck. The assault had been so fast, Little Phoenix had barely had time to realize what was happening before it was all over.
Her blood-splattered companion had returned, wiped the sweat from her brow and suggested they continue. She didn't even seem to care about the lives she had extinguished. Little Phoenix had almost been sick from all the blood, but Ruth had just ordered her to get moving. The shorter woman was impressed.
-
Eventually, they reached the mountainsides. They began their slow and arduous ascent. Ruth traded her traveler's clothes for a warmer set and the cart for a pair of robust horses. She noticed Little Phoenix had changed. Since they had entered the first of the mountain towns, she seemed more relaxed and friendly. Also, her whole appearance seemed different. After a few days of travel, she asked:
"Tell me, what did you do with your face?"
"My face?"
"Yes. You look different. Did you ... change your eyes?"
"I am surprised that you as a foreigner would notice it. When I am in the lowlands, it is better to look the part. It's makeup, mostly. There are some tricks the Masters taught me, but being a mountain woman isn't easy on the coast."
"I can understand that. Where I come from, people let doctors break their noses to fit in."
"Why? Don't they have large enough noses already? I thought all you foreigners were keen on your enormous trunks."
"Actually, it's much more complicated than that."
"I see. There was this officer from the virtuous country. He told me that the length of the nose of a man corresponded to the length of his ..."
She smiled.
Ruth shrugged.
"I'm not sure this actually applied, but let me guess, he had a big nose."
"Oh yes. It was so very big. I could have hidden all of my belongings in its nostrils. I wondered how he managed to stand up straight. The other part was less impressive."
She guffawed. Ruth shot her an awkward look.
-
Up in the mountains, the weather changed. The winds howled and it became very cold. They left the last village behind them and continued their ascent. Little Phoenix was shivering when the sun went down. The endless climb was taking its toll on the pair. Ruth asked:
"How far is it yet?"
"We still have some more climbing to do. Maybe in a week."
"I thought you'd been up there before."
"I wasn't. I lived in one of the towns we wandered through. The one with the festival full of dancing demons."
Ruth nodded slowly. The pageantry had been impressive and utterly confusing. The strange chants and the music had irritated her. While Little Phoenix enjoyed herself greatly, the masks made her uncomfortable. Were these the demons that were lurking in her? With Hilde's help, she had unleashed her id, but she was unsure of whether she still controlled it. Was there a way back?
The thought pervaded her entire journey. What should she do when she reached her destination?
-
Good to see you're still keeping up with this one. Thanks and continuing K from a solitary dude.
-
Glad to have you back!
They eventually crossed the snow line. The last, crippled trees disappeared, leaving only rocks, moss and lichen. They had long since abandoned their horses and were now plodding along the narrow path. Even though Ruth was tired and exhausted, she had to look around occasionally. The view was incredible. She was so far away from anything she'd ever known, it was incredible. When she thought back of the miserable slum in which she had grown up and compared it to the majestic mountain range, she couldn't help but feeling elated. Little Phoenix, on the other hand, grew darker day by day. The strain was taking its toll and the feeling of insecurity caused by leaving the known world behind made her angry. She snapped at her companion:
"What are you looking at? It's just more mountains. It'll stay that way until we finally find the monastery. We should be going."
Ruth's mind returned to the task at hand. She was annoyed by her guide's anger.
"I was merely looking at the panorama. I'm sorry, but for foreigners like me, this view is something else."
"It's cold and I'm tired. The view is nice, yes, but you certainly have mountains were you come from."
The taller woman laughed:
"Not really. My country is hardly mountainous. Besides, you'd probably call them hills."
Little Phoenix moaned:
"I don't want to talk about this. Let's just continue, shall we?"
Ruth shrugged. She suppressed the need to hit the shorter woman and straightened her backpack. The young woman was right. It was time for them to reach their destination.
-
The storm had come from nowhere. Suddenly, the world was pure white. Snow caked their faces, everything was covered by the howls of the wind. Ruth shouted for her companion, but she could only distinguish a vague silhouette in the hellish cold. She turned her back against the wind, desperate to at least concentrate and find a way to recover her bearings. The path had been under her soles, but now, she felt only the crunching snow. She tried to shout again, snowflakes hitting her mouth. She struggled to remain standing, certain that if she were to sit down, she'd freeze. She staggered forward, or at least in the direction she hoped was forward. She stumbled over something, looked down, crouched to get a clean sight on it. Was it Little Phoenix? No. Only a rock. She stood back up, pushing against the wind that now beat down on her, forcing her to curb her back. She adjusted her cap, trying to get even a blink of her surroundings. There was the shadow of an overhang. Maybe the shorter woman had taken refuge there. Against better reason, she shouted again:
"Little Phoenix!"
There was something that might have been an answer, but she couldn't be sure. The storm suddenly redoubled its efforts, blasting her with snow and freezing air. She had to shut her eyes and clambered to the overhang, stumbling along, falling to her knees before regaining her stance.
Weak and exhausted, she managed to crawl under the rock-face and struggled to catch her breath. She brushed away the snow and turned back to the disappeared path. Little Phoenix was there somewhere, but she couldn't tell.
She screamed her name. Was there a reply? She squinted, hoping to catch a sign of her. Nothing.
All of a sudden, she saw a shadow in the dancing snow as the wind dropped for a moment. She hollered at her and she thought that the girl had waved back. Gritting her teeth, she fixed her rope to an outcrop and plunged into the snowstorm.
Ruth fought her way through the pale maelstrom, managing to cover the ridiculous three dozen yards until she saw her quarry. Little Phoenix was confused, desperate to save herself and clearly very cold. She grabbed her hand. The other woman stared at her, focused and held on to her.
The taller woman started on her way back, when a sudden gale hit her and projected the pair to the abyss. They landed on their faces and the storm rolled them over the icy surface, the chasm approaching.
-
Ruth struggled to keep a grip on Little Phoenix' wrist. The woman tried to scream, but there really was no point to this. After all, the fury of the storm crushed any sound and drowned out their voices. Suddenly, everything cleared up for a few seconds as the shorter woman went over the cliff. She could see the depths below her for a moment, but shut her eyes in panic. Ruth managed to get a grip on one of the rocks. A shudder went through her body. She closed her fingers harder around her friend's wrist. For a moment, she thought that this must hurt like hell.
The storm redoubled its efforts and whipped them with snow and ice. Its roar rose in a thundering crescendo. Ruth could feel herself being lifted up, Little Phoenix dangling helplessly in the air. She clung to the rock in panic, hoping to survive the next moments and praying for the gale to finally lose its force. In her mind, she began counting. It was a pointless exercise, but somehow, she hoped that her reaching a hundred would quiet the storm. As her eyes and ears were caked with snow and ice, she found it harder and harder to concentrate. She lost count, started again, cursed inwardly, then gave up. There was no way for them to come out of this alive. She felt her frustration well up in her. So close to the goal, she had failed. Not only had she disappointed Jacob, she would also have let her friend die.
She felt the anger and fury grow in her and then, as the wind abated for a moment, launched herself up. It was a desperate gambit: If there was no higher handhold, she had no idea whether she'd catch herself in time. For an incredible moment, she hung in the air, the abyss thundering below her.
-
On the other side of the globe, Gladys was feeling awkward. The reason for this was clearly the ambiance. Somehow, she had expected Paris to be more romantic. Instead, it seemed quite seedy. At least, as far as Oswald's acquaintances were concerned, there was no sign of any dignity. He had led them to Pigalle and had immediately pulled them into an "establishment" where men and women of dubious taste and profession were enjoying themselves. They were seated in a booth away from the stage and handed some fancy drinks. After a while, people turned up, greeted Oswald cheerfully, told jokes in French that were way too dirty for her to understand and did stupid tricks. Eventually, they were picked up by a waitress (at least that's what Gladys hoped she was) and led upstairs to the boss' office. There, they met a very shifty character with a pencil mustache and greasy hair. There were more handshakes, more drinks, more jokes and some admiring looks from the various half-lives that lounged on the manager's sofa. One of them called out:
"Dis-donc, Jean-Baptiste, il faudra que tu lui offre un boulot à celle-là. Elle a bien l'air d'être costaud."
Gladys managed to piece together that she just got a job offer, probably as a strong-woman. She fumbled an answer:
"Naon moerci. Je suyes avec le militaire."
There was raucous cheering for her French and comments that her accent wasn't too bad for an "amerloque". Oswald got some more drinks, a gypsy with a guitar played some very strange music, there were songs and celebrations. Gladys approached Oswald, who was smooth-talking a very curvy brunette and asked:
"So, when are you going to ask about the Master?"
He gave her a friendly, but drunken smile and answered:
"Not yet. There's still a bit of softening to do."
"How long is that going to take? It's getting late."
"Nah. It's getting early. And that's why we're in Paris, aren't we?"
Behind them, there was a commotion. A new guest had arrived.
"Sow, whare is zis Americane who iz so strong?"
-
A stout woman in a man's suit had entered the room. She walked over to Gladys and looked at her admiringly.
"Shee is qwite gorgeousse, isn't shee?"
Gladys fumbled a "Thank you".
"My name isse Violette! I am enchanted of makingue your acquaintance."
"My name is Gladys."
"Gladysse? Très bien. Telle me, Gladysse, I have been tolde zat you are a true amazone, a female Hercule."
"I wouldn't put it this way."
"Ah, yes, butte you are too modeste. Zis is Paris, après tout. La modestie est un défaut!"
The woman threw herself on the chair next to Gladys after chasing away its occupant with a "Casse toi!". She stretched and removed her jacket, then rolled up her sleeves.
"Come one, Gladysse, the arm of iron. We 'ave to do this."
Gladys turned to the now quite illuminated Oswald. She made helpless signs and tried to get him to help her. He waved and shouted:
"She wants to arm-wrestle. Give her a fair fight."
"Arm-wrestling? With a woman?"
"You're a woman too, where's the problem."
Violette moved her fingers:
"So, is zis fore todaye?"
Reluctantly, Gladys took of her blazer. Her would-be opponent's eyes went wide:
"Incroyable. I ame impressed. I wish to fight you. Give me your 'and!"
Gladys hesitated, then set her elbow on the table and grabbed Violette's hand.
The fight was on!
-
Thanks so much for continuing this!
CP
-
As the two women clenched their fists, the crowd's attention was instantly focussed. Shouts of admiration and encouragement broke out and money was being thrown on the table. There was even a small chorus of "Vi-o-let-te, Vi-o-let-te" starting in the back until the shorter woman shot it down with a glance. Indeed, she was struggling. She had somehow expected to just smash Gladys' hand on the table, but had instead hit a steel column. Gladys herself had been surprised by the fury of her attacker. She held fast, but she had almost failed to withstand her.
Now, it was a battle of attrition. Gladys was certain that she was stronger. Her biceps bulged, veins popping out, eliciting an admiring look of Violette and hoots and whistles from the crowd. However, Violette both new what she was doing and seemed to be extremely tough. Slowly but certainly, the stout woman wore her amazonian opponent down. Gladys understood that she had to summon her forces if she wanted to withstand the pressure. She locked her feet around the legs of her chair, making the wood creak. Immediately, she felt her position improve. Violette was now under attack.
The older woman broke out in a sweat. Her arms, although pudgy and out of shape contracted, increasing the pressure they exerted. She held against Gladys' onslaught and managed to stabilize her position, then suddenly relaxed and immediately flexed again, taking her opponent unawares. Immediately, Gladys found herself on the defensive again. The blonde giantess gave her dark-haired counterpart a surprised look. Violette grinned and forced the attack.
For a moment, it seemed as if Gladys was done for. Her arm was now periliously close to the tabletop. It was clear that she would lose. However, Gladys sensed that her opponent had overspent herself. She took a deep breath and pushed. Slowly but relentlessly, she forced Violette back into a vertical position, her biceps quivering with effort. Then began the slow and inevitable descent. Violette shot sideways glances at the spectators, clearly uneasy with the development. She was anxious not to lose face, especially against an "amerloque".
Gladys gave her a benign smile and a little nod.
She was unsure whether Violette had understood, but the shorter woman pushed harder and when they reached the vertical position, Gladys released her hand and shouted:
"Ah! This hurts. I'm really sorry! Oh my God, this hurts!"
Violette seemed relieved for a second, then she said:
"It'se no probleme. We do a revanche another day, when you are better prepared."
"Thank you."
"Très bien. Et maintenant, à boire!"
-
Bringing several bottles with him, Jean-Baptiste had them all sit down. Gladys still tried to massage life back into her fingers. At least, she did what she could to make it look like this. Violette continued eying her with interest. The amazon tried to ignore this. Finally, Oswald would get them to talk.
Indeed, he poured himself a glass, lit his cigarette and asked:
"Jean-Baptiste, I have a question for you."
"What is it, mon ami?"
"I have recently met a gentleman that you might know. I didn't catch his name. He's in the business."
"If he ever went through Paris, I'll know him."
Violette laughed out loud.
"Dans le sens de la bible. Eh oui!"
Jean-Baptiste smiled and said:
"Tout à fait. Anyway, show me."
Oswald took out the picture. Jean-Baptiste examined it.
"It's the man from the news, isn't he? The Master. I hadn't looked at him too closely. This is a photograph, yes?"
"Exactly."
"I know him. He's from Pologne."
Gladys asked:
"Poland?"
"Poland. I've known him a few years ago. Though not in the sense of the bible."
He shot Violette a scowl. She refilled her glass.
"His name is Jacob Blanc. It's probably different in his mother tongue, but that's how I knew him. I have a little something in my archive. Come tomorrow in the afternoon and I will show you."
Gladys was relieved. They'd finally be able to get home. She wanted to get up but suddenly found Violette's hand on her thigh.
The city of sin.
-
Ruth drifted back into consciousness. She had read that people freezing to death felt warm before they passed away. Well, she was feeling warm. She was also quite snug under a surprisingly soft blanket.
She woke up with a sudden motion, sat up and looked around, instantly spotting the large monstrous creature in front of her. It took her a moment to realize that it was a statue. It was a demon of some sort, it's eyes bulging angrily and its body covered in black flames of sculpted wood. The whole thing was painted in vivid colors and and looked more folkloristic than scary. She stretched. Her body was still aching from the ordeal and she suddenly understood that Little Phoenix was nowhere to be seen. Had she ... ?
The black-haired woman got up, noticing that she was naked. She wrapped the blanket around her in a make-shift toga. The wooden floor was cool and there was an open window that let in further chill. She found a large pelt next to her bed and added this to her outfit. Slipping on the sandals that somebody had left her, she walked to the sole door of this room. Before she opened it, she decided to walk back to the window. Her curiosity got the better of her and she looked out.
The view was incredible. Snow-covered mountain peaks, a clear blue sky and the marvelous and ancient walls and towers of a proud monastery proved to her that she had reached her destination. This was where Jacob had sent her: The monastery of the Sacred Fire.
It was time for her to deliver her message.
-
Wow, I've read up on the whole thing without stopping once!
I fell in love with this story, incredible; I hope you continue :-)
-
Thank you! I try to continue it whenever I can.
She walked out of the room and wandered the barren floors. It was clear that the monastery was very old and surprisingly well-kept, but she could easily spot signs that the place was understaffed and mostly abandoned. Suddenly, a voice called out for her. It was an old man, his head shaved and wearing the crimson and gold robes of a monk. His voice seemed unaccustomed to the language, but she understood.
"Halt. You are not allowed to leave your room. The abbot has yet to summon you."
Ruth smiled.
"Tell the abbot I am coming. Lead the way!"
"No. You are unclean and an outsider. You cannot talk to him."
Ruth approached the wizened old man. She was taller than him, her shoulders broader, her step vigorous and her eyes fierce. She could almost smell his fear.
"I wish to speak to the abbot. Take me to him."
She didn't even have to threaten him. The man almost seemed to shake as she towered over him. Somehow, she had expected the man to put up more resistance. Weren't these holy men supposed to be free of fear and worry? She looked at his eyes and understood. He sensed the tremendous, palpable aggression she had cultivated for so long. He was unable to resist her.
With a yelp, he hurried off. Ruth grinned and followed him. She just loved it when she could exert this kind of power.
-
Eventually, they reached the great hall. A spacious area, its roof held aloft by carved wooden columns. She smiled as she recognized the similarity of the Master's own "throne room", although Jacob would never call it that. Once again, statues of demons and monsters decorated the walls. Jacob had his armored bodyguard in their place. On the sides sat rows of monks, the rhythmic hum of their meditation filling the room. The abbot, a wizened man in gold and crimson robes, sat on his chair and watched her carefully.
With absolute ease, Ruth brushed aside a strand of hair and smiled. The old man's rumbling voice filled the room.
"You were rescued by our guards as you were about to fall. I trust you are well now?"
She nodded.
"Very well. I would welcome you to the monastery of the Celestial Dragon. However, I sense that you are not here for peace and meditation."
"That's true. I was sent by the Crimson Dragon, the Master of the World."
The abbot smirked:
"That is what he calls himself now? The Master? He is a fool. When we learned that he had brought an emissary, we expected something, maybe not an apology, but still a sign of understanding. But this? This is foolish."
Ruth cocked her eyebrow.
"Foolish? You misunderstand. I was sent here to deliver a message and you will hear it."
The ancient man laughed.
"You have been duped by his illusions of grandeur. He is not even a pawn, just a self-righteous, pompous little man who believes himself to have power. But he has none. True power resides in the might of the spirit. Your strength is weakness. Your anger is fear. I'd pity you, but it would mean anchoring me to a world as pathetic as this."
Ruth's face froze.
"You misunderstand. My anger is unmarred by weakness or fear. It is true, pure and perfect and I will show you its might."
With these words, she dropped her toga.
Time to kill.
-
When Gladys awoke, the sun was high in the sky. She looked around. The room was unfamiliar. Where was she? Her head was pounding. Somehow, she had a gaping hole in her memories. She must have done something but she couldn't remember. It had been nice, though.
She slowly sat up, still surprised to find her body so outrageously muscular. This was one of the weird things about her life. She had worked for this over the years, but the final jump due to the professor's work had been incredible. Somehow, she still felt foreign in her own skin. It was just so much. She put her hand on her enormous shoulder. Incredible. Her hand slid down to her biceps. Eugene Sandow was probably puny next to her. She pushed aside the sheets, suddenly realizing that she wasn't alone in the bed.
She stared at Violette's sleeping form. The older woman was fast asleep, even gently snoring. Only now did Gladys see how strongly built she was. While her own body had become an anatomy chart of muscle that clearly and painfully etched every single line and fiber, Violette's was plump and immensely powerful. She had large arms, a barrel chest and huge, heavy thighs. The absence of breasts was discomfiting, but she vaguely remembered an explanation. She couldn't say, but there had been some outrageous reason for this.
Since Violette was still sleeping, Gladys decided to get out of bed gently and to explore her environment. She slipped out under the sheets, causing the springs in the bed to relax. Violette mumbled, but slept on. The enormous woman looked around and couldn't find her clothes. Hesitating, she left the room through a half-open door. As she passed the round windows, she understood that she was still in Paris, in some kind of bohemian artist's appartment.
Gladys walked into a studio. There was a piano, a camera, a récamière, a coffee table and plenty of books. Also, there was a weight set strewn across the room. Kettlebells, dumbbells and contraptions of wire and springs could be found all around the place. There was also a very large mirror. The wooden panels felt cool under her feet. She walked to the mirror and looked at herself. She was incredible. With calm and confidence, she struck a pose. Following Michelangelo's David, she tried the God of the Sea, before finishing with Laocoön's pose. She smiled at herself, amazed by her rippling muscles. With a grin, she brought her massive arms in front of her chest and flexed hard, her shoulders and neck exploding with muscle.
At this moment, she suddenly discovered Washington standing in the doorway, pastries in hand and mouth gaping. The pastries fell, Gladys blushed awkwardly, then she blacked out.
-
Catching up on stories that I've missed over the months. This is turning out to be a pretty epic story. I'm looking forward to see where you're taking the story, 'cause I haven't got a clue. :cool2:
-
The door burst open and a mass of initiates and acolytes stormed in. Some of them brandished pole-arms or maces. Ruth turned around to face them. The abbot was already lying on the floor, his men broken and beaten. She cocked her head, bunched her fists and attacked.
The foremost monk tried to hit her with his glaive, but she easily avoided his blow. Instead, she sidestepped him, punched his ear with the palm of her hand and threw him to the floor. With a crack, he fell down, blood trickling from his face. The others tried to surround her, but Ruth's muscles coiled and uncoiled with perfect and deadly precision. One after the other fell to her steel blows. She drove them away and towards the walls. With a final push, she sent them out of the window. She turned away from the crash and stretched. The perfect rage in her was still burning and she desired another enemy.
Happily, she was granted the opportunity as the remaining guards of the monastery approached the room. A few of them were armed with ancient muskets and rifles, but most bore swords.
Ruth looked at them. She saw the uncertainty in their eyes. She lowered her eyes and focused on her naked form. Her large muscles and womanly breasts were clearly distracting. She would have preferred to wear armor when facing such warriors, but she had to make do with what she had. She kicked up a halberd, spun it around and threw it at one of the riflemen. The weapon hit his face, splitting it with a sickening crunch. She laughed as the men quivered, then jumped at them, her fists flying.
Withing seconds, there was blood everywhere.
The muscular killer had wrapped her legs around the neck of the largest attacker and carefully directed him to absorb his allies bullets. Ruth held him up with the strength of her body, only letting him slump to the ground when they had expended their shots. Then, in the air before the corpse even hit the floor, she crushed the jaws of the temple guards.
After an endless series of atrocities, Ruth calmed down. She returned to the prone, bleeding shape of the abbot and hunkered down next to him. She lifted him up a little. He was only barely alive:
"Dearest, here's the message the Master sends you: True enlightenment does not reside in the isolation of the mountains, nor in decades of meditation. It is in every man and woman in this world, working together to destroy suffering and pain. The Master will build this world anew so we won't need to leave it behind. Know this and accept your foolishness."
The old man gasped and struggled to speak.
"No ... This ..."
He died with a rasp.
Ruth let him to the ground and stood up.
Suddenly, she spotted Little Phoenix. The young woman was wearing the robes of a nun and was in shock. Ruth smiled, blood running from her lips. Only now did she realize that her whole body was crimson.
She said:
"Little Phoenix. I'm so glad you are well. Do you wish to join me on the path to universal freedom?"
The woman shivered. Then, she straightened. A look of grim determination appeared on her face.
"I wish to do so."
"Excellent." The bloodied woman walked to her and tore off her robe.
-
It is a little confusing to have 2 characters named 'Jacob', the Master and the Colonel.
Other than that it is an excellent story so far (I'm on page 8).
I think it would do well on Wattpad and DA, if you want to explore new audiences and new readers. Promote it as for people looking for empowered women and girls but tired of the 'young adult' genre. It has a wonderful sophistication.
:cool2:
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El_Roy, I've read all that has been written so far in this story. I think it's a wonderful story.
It's not really an FMG story, which is probably why it didn't get as much response as a typical El_Roy story does on this site.
I might be wrong, I'm just one reader, but I think this story would appeal to hundreds maybe thousands of readers in Wattpad.
This must have taken a lot of effort and research to write and that audience might justify the amount of work needed to complete it.
It's an exciting suspenseful adventure story with elements of female empowerment, sci-fi, alternate history, steampunk, war, and maybe politics. (You might need to change a few words in the sex scenes (different words) to get past their moderators, but these would be a few minor changes.)
As with College Diary yesterday, I read this in one day. This one, this experiment you've created, I love it more than College Diary. I think it would make a great novel.
And if you don't finish it, well thank you El Roy for what you did write. :bravo: :bravo: :bravo:
-
Whoa.
That's some awesome feedback. Now I definitely have to finish it.
Thank you very much!
-
Also, I'll look into Wattpad. That sounds interesting. Thanks a lot.
-
Time to continue this story. It's been a while, but I'll try to finish it soon.
At the White House, there was a certain tension in the air. Colonel Jacob van Rothe walked into the Oval Office. He immediately recognized the Directors of the Bureau and the Chief of the Signal Corps. There were other members of the various intelligence groups present. The President nodded at him as he walked in. He greeted the Colonel, then turned to the others:
"Gentlemen, since we are all present now, it is time for Colonel van Rothe to give us his assessment of the situation."
The Chief seemed annoyed. He glowered at van Rothe. The other officers appeared to be equally angry.
Van Rothe ignored the atmosphere and rolled out a map he had brought with him. He laid it on the table and fixed it with paperweights.
"Mister President, gentlemen, I am sorry we have kept you in the dark about our operations for so long. However, after the attack on the Bureau, we decided to involve only a very small circle. Now that the Bureau has been reestablished and our operations are well under way, it is time to coordinate our efforts."
There were some resentful murmurs. Van Rothe pointed at the map.
"We have established the locations of our enemy's positions. The initial base was set up in the Midwest. We were unable to contain its creation and spread, but I assume that changes in budgeting will allow us to get rid of it soon. The second base is on Cuba. Depending on our naval possibilities, we should be able to at least contain this strongpoint."
He paused, clearing his throat. He was feeling a little sick lately. Clearly, the late hours were taking their toll. Coordinating with people all over the globe forced ungodly hours on him.
"The third and final known base is in Tibet. It has been established over the last weeks. It is completely unreachable and we have no weapon able to destroy it. I am looking forward to your ideas on how to get rid of it."
He looked around and saw their hesitation.
-
Very happy to see this epic continued. So many strings that need to be tied up.
CP
-
"There are good news too. We have established the identity of the Master."
Van Rothe extracted several photographs from his file.
"His name is Jacob Weisz. He is a Polish national from Lublin, which was Russian at the time of his birth. He comes from a respected Jewish family, his grandfather was a rabbi, his father a lawyer and journalist."
The Chief interjected:
"So he's a Marx brother?"
There was a snort of laughs. The Colonel smiled:
"Even more than you'd think. He actually joined the circus as a young man. Our Antichrist is a clown at heart. He disappeared after a stay in Paris, but appears to have lived in Indochina, China and Tibet. He was a monk and mystic."
"Fancy. Just what the world needed. First a seminarist in Russia, then a schoolteacher in Italy and now this."
"He seems to have gotten into a lot of money and managed to invest it during the worst of the economic crisis. He used it to set up his little domain in the United States. Our enemy is clever and he has a good eye for talent."
Van Rothe laid several sets of pictures on the table.
The photographs and sketches showed the Master's closest associates. There were nods of approval as each one was presented. The officers tried to get an idea of the psyche and motivations of their enemies. When they reached Ruth's picture, van Rothe explained:
"This woman is a kind of mystery. She may be the Weisz' lover or just a hench ... woman." He interrupted himself. "Is that even something you can say? Henchwoman?"
There were sighs and head-scratches around the table. The Colonel continued:
"Or his enforcer. She has been spotted in several skirmishes and has been described as a formidable opponent, completely devoid of fear or even self-preservation. Fighting her will probably be challenging."
The Chief sighed:
"What a world! Now even the women fight us." The men looked tired. "As if suffrage hadn't been bad enough."
This comment hit the Colonel right in the guts. What had he gotten himself into? He should have held Gladys back.
-
Two weeks later, the ocean liner was plowing through the waves of the Mediterranean. Even before breakfast, Gladys was enjoying her walk on the deck. She had just finished her morning workout routine and relaxed now. The salty air was refreshing and she took deep breaths. This trip was even more exciting than the last. The unit had been dispatched to Shanghai. Apparently, the high command had deduced that the Master's next point of interest would be China, so they would go there and support the Chinese in their fight. She didn't know much about China, but the idea of getting closer to the Master was appealing.
The giant woman walked to the prow of the ship. The waves split below her and the wind tugged at her dress and hair. She wondered what people thought of her now. She had spent a lot of money in Paris on her wardrobe and had actually found a tailor who was able to work with her enhanced figure, but she still knew she stood out. The Captain had insisted the unit have their meals in separate so that no civilians would be able to listen in on their talk, but she missed actually having a social life.
She was also unsure what she should do with Washington's advances. She was impressed that he hadn't taken advantage of her in that Paris apartment. Her mother's warnings would have suggested as much, but no. He had been the perfect gentleman and had even managed to catch her and get her back to bed. Violette had ignored her and continued sleeping.
This experience had calmed her tremendously and she felt a certain trust in him. Could there be love?
She sighed.
That's when she heard giggles and a group of voices approaching.
-
A group of women approached. They were clearly in a good mood and laughed and smiled. Gladys looked at them. It took her a moment, but then she recognized them. She knew them! These were some former colleagues from high school. They had attended one of the better schools for young ladies in New England together.
One of the women also recognized her, although barely.
"I'm sorry, but are you Gladys van Rothe?"
She hesitated. Should she answer? Wasn't this the same situation as with her mother?
She swallowed and said:
"I am. You're Linda Harrison, aren't you?"
"Yes. You look ... different."
Gladys shrugged, suddenly aware of her gigantic muscles and the bulges they produced under her clothes. Also, being gigantically tall was just as bad.
"Err ... I ... I had a growth spurt."
Linda, a short, curvy woman with shiny brown hair and a nice face, stared at the amazon in front of her and wasn't sure about what to say. Finally, she managed:
"So, how far are you going?"
Happily, Gladys picked up the offering and replied:
"I'm going to Shanghai."
"Wonderful. We're taking the Grand Tour. All the way to San Francisco."
"That's great!"
"Sure. Would you like to join us for lunch?"
Gladys hesitated. Together with the other members of the unit, she had a tight training schedule to follow. Isolating herself from the others might not be a good idea.
"I'll have to check with my friends."
Another of the women chirped in:
"Why not ask them to join us? We could have a big table! All the girls!"
The giant woman murmured:
"I'm with a group of men."
There were shocked looks on their faces. An unmarried woman, alone with a bunch of men? A woman with big muscles, hugely tall? What was going on?
Awkwardly, Gladys said:
"I'm going to talk to them and we'll see."
-
Gladys met the rest of the unit at their table. The Captain was just pouring himself a cup of coffee, the others were at the table, enjoying toast and sausages. Washington got up when she walked in. The other men looked at him oddly and Oswald said:
"Washington, calm down. You're going to get your commission eventually, but you don't have to be gallant all the time."
The sergeant blushed and sat back down.
"I'm sorry, lieutenant. It's just the way I've been brought up."
"Yes, but the Private is no woman. At least in this outfit."
The Captain interrupted, smiling:
"Lieutenant, have you seen the outfit?"
There were some laughs and Gladys sat down with the others.
After eating, she asked:
"Some friends of mine are also on board and would like to have us eat with them. I think you would find the company charming. Especially since our company in China won't be as pleasant."
The Captain nodded:
"That sounds like a wonderful idea. A bit of relaxation will do us all good. I can't say I'm looking forward to more Chinese business. It was bad enough last time."
Yorkow nodded knowingly.
-
After breakfast, the Captain had them do a round of exercises. Soon, the unit was running rounds along the deck of the ship, shooting skeet and staging mock battles in the depths of the ship. The ship's commander had let them do this as long as it didn't interfere with the running of the regular operations.
This resulted in a lot of sneaking around in dark corridors, sudden bangs of blanks and wrestling in the tight confines of the ship. It was also the opportunity for Gladys to press herself against a wall next to Washington and to be near him for a few seconds before the scene erupted in violence and tension once again. It felt soothing amidst all the chaos of a changing world.
Of course, these moments of peace dissolved in brutal action moments later.
At the end, the Captain took the time to give feedback to his unit and get their hints to improve. More and more, they were turning into a well-oiled and highly efficient fighting machine.
Once they were done with combat training, he added some weightlifting. Gladys had asked for some weights for her training and the others had agreed.
She laid on the bench and pushed up massive amounts of metal. The others were still impressed. She had stuck to her training schedule and had continued to develop her muscles. By now, Gladys was certainly the strongest member of the outfit. She probably would have surpassed O'Hara if he were still alive. If her strength had been obvious before, it was now getting impossible to miss. Gladys had kept her aesthetic ideal in mind and had worked hard to maintain her proportions. If the ancient masters had sculpted statues of women like her, this would have been their work.
-
She lowered the barbell to the ground and walked over to the mirror. She was impressed with her figure. The giant woman had to admit that she felt a certain pride and vanity at her looks. Her large, round breasts were well supported by two very visible chest muscles. Under those, she had developed two columns of bulging muscles that framed her navel. She had asked a French tailor to make her one of the outfits depicted in the ruins of Pompeii. It consisted of some very short underpants and a broad strip of fabric that covered her breasts. The tailor had blushed when she had described what she wanted. Only when she showed him her identification as a member of the armed forces did he accept that she was no loose woman. He had taken the opportunity to improve on her idea and had added two wide straps that crossed in her back.
When she wore the thing, she felt even stronger. She was aware that she could also exercise in the nude as the athletes of old had, but she was somewhat uncertain. Despite all her fascination with Antiquity, she hesitated at such ... exhibitionism.
She turned to her side and showed off her magnificent shoulders and arms. The rigorous military training had made them even bigger. Carefully monitoring her diet had allowed her not to become bulky and thick. Instead, her body was sleek and powerful, the lines of her muscles clearly visible through her skin.
She contracted her leg muscles and admired their power. Somehow, she'd have to train her calves more. They could be bigger and more proportional ... She'd have to talk to someone who knew about anatomy. Maybe devise a more advanced curriculum than those provided by Atlas and Sandow.
For a moment, she imagined herself starting a movement amongst women. She'd teach them to build up their strength and liberate themselves. The thought made her smile. She'd have to write up her ideas and findings first.
The smile grew wicked as she rolled her shoulders forward and did a weird pose she had come up with. Her hands were in front of her chest and her arms, chest and shoulders were fully flexed. She looked inhumanly strong, even monstrous.
The situation made her feel ... glad.
-
Over the next weeks, the unit successfully found its place at the women's table. The men were charmed by the company and Gladys was actually relieved to be among people more akin to herself. She was a warrior at heart, that was true, but she was also a WASP daughter bred and grown in New England and all that fighting and saluting definitely took its toll. Just being able to feel like what she had been supposed to be was wonderful. At the same time, she realized how far she had grown and how distanced she'd become of all this. She felt a certain melancholy, thinking of her mother. She'd never get the child she wanted, maybe not even the grandchild. It wasn't time for that now. Maybe after the war was over ...
Right at this moment, Linda was explaining a hilarious episode the women had experienced in Liverpool.
"... and that's when I realized that there were THREE identical bags."
There was a roar of laughter. Some of the other guests looked at them disapprovingly, but Linda just ordered more champagne. She said:
"We're going to reach Indochina tomorrow. I asked the steward. Apparently, the ship is going to stay here for a few days, so we could go on an expedition."
There were gasps of excitement from the other women. One of them, the very short and mousy Lilian, asked:
"But isn't that dangerous?"
"Exactly. That's why I wanted to ask our companions whether they would join us."
The Captain smiled and looked at the brunette beauty:
"Of course. I think we can all stand a little excitement after this boring voyage."
The men nodded and even Gladys found herself smiling.
-
Just to inform you, dear readers: I am not dead, merely overworked. Updates will resume as soon as possible, maybe Wednesday.
Hopefully.
-
The next day, Gladys went through her training routine. She had woken up early and already prepared everything for their trip. To pass the time and to prevent herself from losing her rhythm, she added a session before the ship arrived in port. As she pushed up the barbell, she felt watched. She finished her set and paused. There was a noise outside. She hesitated, then racked the weight and stepped over to the porthole. She opened it quickly and looked around. A small person disappeared around the corner. Had she been watched? She hated it when people peeped at her. This was the big drawback of having a body like hers. Everybody always tried to sneak a peak. She shrugged, closed the window and returned to her training.
Meanwhile, Ruth was overseeing the work on the monastery. Jacob had ordered her to set up a fortified base and that was just what she was doing. The rumble of heavy machinery was deafening. She had decided to preserve the ancient buildings, but around them, armored towers were being raised. Machines dug deeper and deeper into the mountain. Explosions rocked the cliff-faces as the whole mountain was being reshaped. Airships hovered above, lowering their cargo and picking up rubble and machinery.
She finished checking the progress and revised the schedules. It was weird for her to return to clerical work after all this time, but she found it to be a nice distraction. Once everything was done, she returned inside. The dead had long since disappeared, fed to the vultures as was traditional. She had personally supervised the rites. There was no point in humiliating the dead.
-
Ruth reached her quarters. Here, in a chamber overlooking the majestic mountains, there was much less noise. For a moment she mentally returned to the glorious calm of the monastery before her takeover. She did feel sorry for the carnage she had caused. But then again, such was the way of the world. Hilde and Little Phoenix were in the next room, practicing. The two women were fighting when she came in. The older woman, even though still short, was taller than her opponent and was trying to use that as an advantage. Ruth watched the pair with interest. It was fascinating to see how much Hilde had improved. Her body was now tight and muscular, her movements were quick and precise. She had learned most of the techniques Jacob's teachers knew and applied them ruthlessly.
Still, the pair was equally matched.
Ruth took off her coat and jacket, rolled her powerful shoulders and clapped her hands. The two women looked at her. She grinned:
"Come on!"
The fighters turned to her and attacked. Ruth easily parried Little Phoenix' kick, ducked under Hilde's blows and side-stepped them, exposing their flanks. With a well-aimed punch, she knocked them into each other and evaded their riposte. The two women smiled wickedly as they realized that they had no chance alone. They separated and moved to outflank their leader. Ruth was perfectly alert in that moment. Her body quivered in anticipation. This was what she lived for. With absolute elegance, she attacked Hilde, moving inside her range and spinning her inside Little Phoenix' attack. Once again, the pair was thwarted.
Frustrated, they charged. Ruth didn't even take the time to evade them. Instead, she confronted them head-on, blocked the flurry of blows they sent at her and forced them into a corner. Then, she released her pent-up anger and hammered away at them. They tried to block or parry her thrusts, but her sheer force overpowered them.
Desperate, Hilde cried:
"Stop! I give up!"
Little Phoenix joined in, holding up her hand.
Ruth calmed down again and nodded:
"You did well. You're both getting better."
She wiped the sweat of her brow.
"I'll have to step up my training if I want to keep up with you."
The two other women were unsure what to make of this. Ruth was clearly able to defeat them both on her own and still she wanted to improve further. Also, Little Phoenix felt a pang of jealousy at her mistress' power. She yearned to become as powerful as she was.
-
After washing themselves, the three women relaxed and enjoyed the strong tea a servant brought them. Hilde asked:
"So, what's the next step? Where's the Master now?"
Ruth smiled enigmatically:
"He's traveling. He wants to get a good look at our opponents."
"Our opponents? What can they do? We're undefeatable."
"I wouldn't be so sure. Until now, the countries of the world have been doing their own stuff, without any plan. They just fought us whenever they could, and always on our terms. Of course, they couldn't win. But lately, we've been getting reports that they are organizing."
"So what. We're still a century ahead of them."
"Are we? Our technology is powerful, but we are few. Every loss is a big problem. Which is why we're looking at China now."
Little Phoenix added:
"After all these centuries of humiliation, my country is really looking forward to recovering its place among the nations."
Ruth leaned back.
"I'm not sure this is the Master's plan. I think he wants humanity to become one."
"How can we be one?"
"That's what we are here for. We are the enemies the world needs to unite. This is why we have to do this. Every story needs a bad guy."
"So this isn't about colonies?"
"It never was. But we must strive to be the worst monsters if we want to win."
Hilde nodded:
"I've been thinking about this and I assume this is the Master's idea. So, Ruth, what about leaving more of your humanity behind?"
Ruth looked at her companion. The old woman was a strange one. What had she thought of?
-
Hundreds of miles away, the party had recruited a driver and climbed aboard three ancient Citroën cars and left for the ruins of the temple cities. After two days in a rumbling train, everybody was eager for some open air, even though the temperatures and the humidity were taking their toll. Still, the tourists were holding up and the women eagerly fanned the air to get some current on. Gladys had insisted on driving the first car and the other soldiers had gladly conceded. The roads were rudimentary at best and the ride was rough. Linda clung to the door grip for her dear life.
"Can't you drive slower?"
Gladys grinned. She really enjoyed the speed, the challenge of the road and the outrage of her passengers. She had learned to drive in New England, where most of the roads were well-kept and people tried to drive with as much discipline as possible. Here, everything was a challenge. The car just evaded another cart and a couple of people on bicycles. The giant woman hit the horn and shouted for them to get off the road in French. At last, her upbringing helped her.
She didn't notice Lilian's admiring looks. The small woman was equally terrified, but watching this modern amazon handle the car mad her deeply envious.
At last, the road cleared up. They were now approaching the temple ruins and there were no more peasants around. Instead, the trees around grew higher and the buzzing of insects got louder. There were several waterways which they forded with a splash before finally reaching the area. As soon as they stopped, the women lowered the veils on their hats to protect themselves from the clouds of mosquitoes. The group quickly started its exploration.
-
They walked closer to the ruined temple. There were several walls, a few buildings and many statues. Gladys felt a kind of deep fascination as she gazed upon these ancient masterpieces. Thick roots had overgrown the courtyards, trees shadowed the bas-reliefs. Linda took out her photo camera and said:
"The folks at home are going to be so jealous."
She took a few pictures, then she added:
"Could you just stand in front of the big head?"
The Captain shook his head:
"I'm going to snap a picture of the ladies, but I'm afraid we can't be on it."
"Why?"
"Military business. I regret it."
"That's too bad."
Gladys sighed. He was right, of course. But the secrecy was starting to hurt her. She had these splendid, fascinating adventures all over the globe and yet, she was slowly understanding that she'd never be able to tell anyone. It made her sad. A legend should be told.
She snapped out of her reverie. The others had walked on and found a hidden statue. The women were a little shocked by its nakedness but as soon as Linda explained that it wasn't different from Greek statues, they eagerly snapped another picture next to it.
Gladys needed some space, so she gave Washington a sign and walked off. She found a caved-in part and entered, following a thin ledge over the gaping hole. The concentration required not to fall cleared her head. She continued on, climbing over a broken piece of masonry and crawling under the massive roots of a tree. She walked through a small forest.
Suddenly, the area opened and she stood in a vast field full of ruins. She grinned: Had she just discovered a new ruin site?
-
With growing anticipation, she approached the walls and climbed down into the first building. More and more sculptures, covered in vines and tree roots appeared. The birds chirped and sang above. Gladys ducked under a gate and reached a broad street. It was marvelous, flanked by statues of monkeys and leading up to a large temple. The tiles of the road were uneven and it had occasionally collapsed. She vaulted those holes and cave-ins easily and fast approached the temple. The construction was actually quite big and rather grandiose.
Just as she was about to take a closer look, there was a panicked scream behind her.
Her reflexes kicked in. She immediately dropped to one knee, turned around and whipped out her pistol. She looked around and decided that there was no threat. Instead, she spotted two small hands on the ledge of one of the holes. Someone was clinging to it for their dear life. With a few quick steps, she reached the place and looked down.
It was Lilian.
"Help me!", she pleaded.
Gladys immediately knelt down, grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her up. She put the tiny woman back on her feet and said:
"There. Are you alright?"
"I am. Thank you. I thought I'd fall. I couldn't hold myself up anymore!"
"Don't worry, you're safe now. I'll accompany you back to the others."
"But I want to explore this place with you."
"It's dangerous."
"I know. But I like how you do all this so easily."
"I had to train a lot to get here."
"I guess so."
Lilian thought for a moment and said:
"Say, would you teach me how you did it?"
"Did what?"
"Become so strong. I'm so tired of being small and weak."
Gladys was surprised. She had assumed the other women thought of her as a freak and now this. She hesitated:
"I could. But it's hard."
"I want to try."
"We can do that. Yes."
"Thank you. Can we go on exploring now?"
"I assume we can."
-
The pair entered the temple and was instantly amazed by its beauty. Some parts of the roof had collapsed, letting shafts of light shine in. There were wonderfully detailed statues, elegant bas-reliefs and even some paraphernalia for worship. It seemed untouched. Gladys said:
"This is wonderful! I think we actually found an ancient temple."
"I don't know. Are you certain? It's not as if the place was hard to discover."
"I'm aware of that, but wouldn't other people have already taken all this? If not the locals then at least some visitors?"
Lilian shivered:
"Maybe it's cursed. You know, like Tutankhamun's grave."
"Possible. But I don't believe in curses."
"The people from the expedition didn't either. And then they died."
Gladys hesitated. She had a point. Still, her curiosity got the better of her and she advanced inside. Lilian stayed in the back, looking around carefully. The giant woman reached the altar area and looked around. There was a massive statue of a many-armed powerful woman, one hand lifted with a knife, another holding a severed head. The closer she looked, the more bizarre details she recognized. The woman clearly wore a necklace made of heads and skulls. She was smiling blissfully, her tongue out in a coquettish and lustful manner.
For Gladys, this was a weird experience. Maybe this was why this temple was untouched.
Just as she turned to Lilian and tell her to come forward, she heard a rough voice:
"Qu'est-ce que vous faites là?"
-
Gladys took a second to assess the situation. She struggled to keep her reflexes under control. She called out in French:
"Nous sommes juste des visiteurs."
The other person stepped into the temple. It was an old, thin man with grey hair that walked with a cane. He asked:
"Are you Americans?"
His accent was quite thick and it was clear that this wasn't his favorite language.
Gladys and Lilian nodded. The tall woman asked:
"Are you in charge of this place?"
The man produced a cough that might be a laugh.
"In charge? This is part of my domaine. You are trespassing."
The two women immediately apologized. Lilian said:
"I'm very sorry for this. It looked so savage."
"It's meant to. Now ..." He took a good look at Gladys and was clearly impressed. "I can show you around if you like."
The pair nodded enthusiastically. The man gave them a little bow and said:
"I forgot to present myself. My name is Éduard-Marie de Saint Gilles. Please follow me as I tell you of this temple of the goddess Kali, the mistress of destruction. This place has been out of use for centuries, back when Buddhism came to Cambodia. I was lucky to find that this temple had been left alone."
He led them further in. Gladys followed him, but she noticed something odd: Sure, the man was old and seemed bent, but then again, he had a certain spryness to him that appeared to be out of place. She shrugged. He probably exercised.
-
Soon, the guests were deeply engrossed in the myths and legend of Kali. The man was an excellent storyteller. Gladys had to admit that his explanations struck a chord with her. A powerful warrior, equal and above the men. Somehow, this was what she was becoming.
When he had ended, he asked:
"Would you mind joining me for dinner? My humble home isn't far from here."
Lilian was smitten by this perfect gentleman and eagerly said yes before Gladys could even react. Still, she said:
"We'll have to get the others."
"Ah, yes. I assumed that you wouldn't be here alone. Where are they?"
Gladys told him and he thought for a moment, then suggested:
"I'll get my servants to look for them. Your companions are probably searching for you now. Come along, it isn't far."
He turned to the exit, when he suddenly stopped. He took an amulet from the altar and handed it to Gladys.
"This is for you. I doubt that the blessing of a pagan goddess such as Kali would mean much to you, but take it anyway. It will protect you in your endeavors."
She hesitated:
"Isn't this an antique?"
"Of course. But it is also mine to give. So please, take it."
With these words, he put it in her hand and closed her fingers on it.
"Take good care of it."
She nodded.
"Thank you."
"Don't worry. It's a pleasure to see a woman that is so clearly blessed."
-
A little later, the tourists arrived at Éduard-Marie de Saint Gilles' home. It was a large colonial mansion and it was clear that his domaine was prosperous. At the same time, they noted the absence of a wife or children. Before anyone could ask, he explained:
"I have yet to find someone. It is hard to meet someone in my situation. It may not look like it, but taking care of all this is both taxing and time-consuming."
His look suggested that any of the women who might be interested had a good chance. When nothing came, he had tea served. They all sat down on the veranda and he easily led them on a conversation on local culture. Before they could say a thing, they had been invited to dinner and to stay overnight. A group of musicians had appeared out of nothing and had begun providing the company with reduced but elegant ambiance.
Their host asked:
"You're on a cruise. That sounds marvelous. Where are you going?"
The Captain answered:
"Without disclosing too much, China. The ladies will return to the States."
"I see. I assume asking you about the nature of your visit to the Middle Kingdom is pointless."
Instead of an answer, the Captain just smiled.
The conversation soon turned to other things. Gladys enjoyed the spectacle, the exotic food and the conversation. This whole trip was slowly returning her humanity. She drank, laughed and chatted as if she still were a débutante in New England.
When they finally turned in in the early hours of the morning, Lilian asked her:
"You look so happy. Why?"
"It's as if I were back in my old life."
"Doesn't this strength make you happy?"
"It's not that."
"Then why don't you go back?"
"There's too much at stake."
She stopped there and climbed in her bed, arranging the mosquito net above it.
-
Gladys woke up early. The morning had not yet broken, the air was cool and there was a weird gray light all around. She tried to turn around and fall asleep again, but she had to face the facts. She was awake. The tall woman carefully slipped out from under the mosquito net and slipped into her robe. She saw that Lilian was still sleeping and walked out as silently as she could, taking her book from the nightstand with her. She came down into the salon and looked for a place to sit and read. That's when she spotted their host.
Éduard-Marie stood there on the veranda, naked and relaxed. She was surprised: His body was tight and muscular, he seemed much more athletic than she'd expect in a man his age. As she watched him, he went through several poses, performing each one with perfect slowness and concentration. She had heard of this. It was yoga or maybe shadow boxing. Some kind of exotic technique.
Gladys watched attentively. She stayed immobile as the old man finished his routine.
At last, he pushed some unseen force downwards and breathed out.
He waited for a moment, then he turned around.
"Do you want to join me?"
She could feel her cheeks redden.
"I didn't want to intrude."
"You didn't. At this time of the day, I have a moment of serenity and I like to celebrate it with a little practice."
Gladys suddenly realized that he was naked and averted her eyes. He said:
"Don't. There is no shame in nakedness. There is only shame in betraying yourself by not accepting your feelings."
"I'm sorry."
"Don't be. I am aware that you feel a certain pride in your body."
"I didn't ..."
"It's understandable. You are quite formidable."
"I'll just go back to my room."
His voice turned strict:
"Stay. Please. Join me. You will enjoy this."
-
"Now, I am fully aware that you are uncomfortable with your nakedness, so just stand next to me and follow my lead. I promise, it is worthwhile."
Gladys watched him intensely. There was something about this weird old man. He had charisma, so much was true. Respect, elegance, even a certain audaciousness. The giant woman thought about the situation for a second, then said:
"I am uncomfortable, but I am slowly coming to accept that my place in this world is not what society expects me to."
With these words, she dropped the robe and took of her nightgown.
Éduard-Marie turned to her and looked at her superb body. He was clearly speechless, but he showed no other signs of inappropriate behavior. He nodded and explained:
"Let's begin. Stand, your feet apart, roughly as wide as your shoulders."
"The outer side or the inside?"
"The bones, if you will."
"Fine."
She stood as explained.
"Now breathe in and lift your arms like this."
She did. The old man concentrated on his own breathing. Gladys checked to see whether he looked at her heaving bosom. He didn't. Maybe he was not interested. He didn't seem that way, though.
He directed her through the slow and gentle movements of this exercise and finally said:
"Refreshing, isn't it?"
She actually felt exhausted. She was used to forceful movement, to exhausting herself and to aggressively punch at any problems. This man did nothing of the sort. The deliberate slowness, the precise control, all this was really hard for her. He said:
"Don't worry. If you do these exercises over a certain time, you will get used to it."
"I think so. Thank you for the lesson."
"It was just a little thing. I am no master."
For a second, Gladys felt something was odd. She dismissed it and went to clean herself.
-
I am currently a little slow on the updates. There's so much to do.
But I'll be back at it soon!
-
Hey El_Roy_1999,
I just read this story from the beginning in the last week or so. This story is fantastic and has certainly turned into one of my favourites.
What I like about it in particular is the unique type of plotline, where there is this war between a cult that is gaining popularity by giving hope to minority groups across the world and the governments of different countries in the world who see the master as a madman, who has no idea about anything. But Ruth, the Masters secretary is too brainwashed to realize this, she is losing more and more of her humanity as the plot progresses. She turned her body into a lethal weapon.
Also, I am really enjoying the 1930s timeline that you have thrown in. Most other FMG stories entirely focus only on the growth aspect of the protagonist, and display of muscles. But your story focuses on this great war-game and Gladys and Ruth are just two important players. Gladys is like the MCU version of Captain America and Ruth is more like Black widow.
I am also liking this mysterious old man's character that Gladys has just come across. Can't wait to see is he has any other motives or if he will be an ally who will finally help Gladys feel happy about her new super soldier body.
Also, can't wait to see how goddess Kali's amulet comes into play, will Gladly become a new goddess of distruction for a greater good? I hope that was a possible foreshadowing moment.
Can't wait for more :cool2: :rock:
-
Hey El_Roy_1999,
I just read this story from the beginning in the last week or so. This story is fantastic and has certainly turned into one of my favourites.
What I like about it in particular is the unique type of plotline, where there is this war between a cult that is gaining popularity by giving hope to minority groups across the world and the governments of different countries in the world who see the master as a madman, who has no idea about anything. But Ruth, the Masters secretary is too brainwashed to realize this, she is losing more and more of her humanity as the plot progresses. She turned her body into a lethal weapon.
Also, I am really enjoying the 1930s timeline that you have thrown in. Most other FMG stories entirely focus only on the growth aspect of the protagonist, and display of muscles. But your story focuses on this great war-game and Gladys and Ruth are just two important players. Gladys is like the MCU version of Captain America and Ruth is more like Black widow.
I am also liking this mysterious old man's character that Gladys has just come across. Can't wait to see is he has any other motives or if he will be an ally who will finally help Gladys feel happy about her new super soldier body.
Also, can't wait to see how goddess Kali's amulet comes into play, will Gladly become a new goddess of distruction for a greater good? I hope that was a possible foreshadowing moment.
Can't wait for more :cool2: :rock:
I'm glad you enjoy it. I hope I'll be able to keep the rhythm up.
-
At breakfast, the old man was back to his splendid self, directing his guests through choice food and asking about their impressions. The Captain replied:
"Well, it's been a while since I've been in East Asia, so I'm really surprised how much has changed."
"You've been here before, captain?"
"I've been to China after the War, yes."
"It's a return, then."
"It is. I sure hope it has improved lately."
"I'm afraid it hasn't. Still the same troubles: Warlords everywhere, no peace in sight."
"Well, we're not going there looking for peace."
"I have also heard of the Master. He seems to have set his base up in the Himalaya. A friend of mine has told me about this."
"A friend of yours?"
"Yes, a Frenchman just like me. A political person, if you want. If you want to talk to him, I can arrange that. He's a little odd, though."
"We've had plenty of odd lately. I see no problem with that."
"Very well. I will write to him about your arrival. He lives in Chengdu."
"That's excellent. Thank you."
-
It was time for goodbyes. Éduard-Marie wished them the best, made sure Gladys had the amulet with her and said:
"You are always welcome here. Just send me a telegram should you be in the country, I'll have everything ready."
The guests thanked him and got ready to leave when the old man called Gladys to him and handed her a book.
"This might be interesting for you. It's not perfect, but it was interesting for me and started me on my journey."
She took it and read the title:
"'La main ouverte et la main fermée'. The open and the closed hand?"
"Yes. It's philosophy. There are also explanations on the exercises I showed you in the morning."
"Thank you very much. It was a pleasure to be here."
"The pleasure was all mine. This was very interesting and informative."
There was an awkward moment when Gladys tried to find the correct way to say goodbye. The old man just said:
"If people have seen each other as we have, it is customary in my country to just faire la bise."
"Okay ..."
He lay his right cheek against hers and did the same with the left. Gladys blushed. The other women stared at the shamelessness, but the old man just said:
"It is nothing. But very French!"
They left before any other sensual stuff happened.
-
On the drive back, Lilian sat next to Gladys and declared:
"This was great! I really enjoyed the visit."
Gladys was also quite pleased with it. She leaned back and looked at the landscape. If it weren't so humid, this place would be wonderful to live. She watched Lilian talk about her feelings and imagined what she would be like if she followed Gladys' training regimen. She had to snicker. That was a stupid thought. The little woman would give up within a few days. She returned to the small woman's explanations.
"... and it was such a nice idea of your Washington to suggest this. He's such a gentleman, even though he's a negro. If they were all like this, we wouldn't have any problem."
Gladys shrugged. Her friend continued:
"I still wonder how your Captain accepts this. All these foreigners in a unit of ours."
"Well, I am a woman and I'm fighting with them."
"That's not the same. You're an amazon. Or a valkyrie. More of a valkyrie, actually. But those people ... I don't know."
Gladys started to feel uncomfortable. These thoughts were familiar to her. When she started with the unit, she had occasionally had the same. Over time, they had disappeared. She shook her head as if to chase the thought and added:
"Lilian, I want to rest a little. I hope you don't mind."
"No, no, of course not."
"Thank you."
Gladys relaxed. Still there was something wrong. She couldn't quite put her finger on it.
-
Back on the ship, Lilian took her by her word. Gladys didn't quite know how to start, so she had her build up her stamina. The pair did long rounds along the upper deck in the early hours of the morning. Gladys also changed Lilian's menu and started her on small weights. The amazon wondered whether it wouldn't be better to have special outfits for training. The sports clothes they wore turned sweaty really fast. She'd have to ask the scientists back at the base once she got there.
Lilian actually seemed to enjoy the training. As the ship progressed, she immersed herself into Gladys' explanations and took notes. Of course, the voyage was to short to show any real progress, but the small woman certainly felt more energetic and happy.
Meanwhile, Gladys spent her time reading the book, Éduard-Marie had given her. It was certainly interesting. The author explained that the world was about to change and that to deal with change required an open hand, as a welcome, and a closed one, as a defense against enemies of change. He advocated meditation and self-improvement to find a path to the reader's own personal future. At the same time, his thoughts on society were much more strict. Humanity as a whole had to be led and fed. Society was prone to infighting and had to be carefully controlled. All this seemed very harsh. Gladys finished the book and felt uncertain of what to think of it. She'd have to talk to Washington in a quiet moment.
When the unit disembarked in Shanghai, the women were sad to see the troops leave. They had to promise to come and visit as soon as possible. Lilian especially insisted on sending Gladys regular letters and getting training hints back. The other women stared at the short one as if she were completely insane.
-
The soldier ran as fast as he could. He was tired, he was bruised and he was frightened. What he had seen had been the horrifying. A guard stopped him as he reached the gates of the camp.
"Halt! Who goes there?"
"I'm private Chang. I need to speak to the general. Please. Let me through."
"What unit?"
"Please! Let me in." The young man hesitated. His hands shivered. He had dropped his rifle. He had lost his cap. He had left his backpack somewhere. There was a humiliating stain on his pants. "I'm in 125th company. But they're all dead!"
He started sobbing and dropped to his knees. The guard called for help.
A group of medics came and lifted him on a stretcher. The young man protested:
"Don't! I need to warn the general. Now!"
The captain of the guard had arrived and asked:
"What do you have to tell him, son?"
"I have to do it in person. You wouldn't believe it! Please, the general!"
The captain sighed. Whatever this was about, he'd rarely seen a soldier in such a bad shape. He agreed:
"Bring him to the general."
-
General Tian scratched his mustache as the young man was brought in. The situation was fluid, as it always was. The rule of the warlords was now well into its second decade and there was still no sign of any decisive victory. Moments of stability were lost in a constant stream of chaos. He appreciated the poetry of the situation. Still, the money was coming in nicely. Controlling the banditry in the area was enough work. Fighting anything more than a skirmish against the other warlords could mean losing revenue, which in turn would put him into the situation of being unable to pay off all those people supporting him.
The status quo might be bad, but at least he prospered. What more could he wish for.
When he saw the face of the young soldier, he realized that his optimism had been unwarranted.
"Private Chang, is it?"
"Yes, sir, General!"
"The captain suggested you wanted to tell me something important."
"Yes, sir."
"Then go ahead, I do not like my time to be wasted."
The captain struck the soldier and barked:
"Quicker! Now!"
"Sir, yes! I was part of a patrol, chasing bandits in the countryside. We didn't find any. Instead, we were attacked!"
"And ... Talk faster, we are not at the movies."
"Yes. The fighters came out of nowhere. They wore armor and they were giants."
"Are you certain you didn't raid the peasants' liquor first?"
"No, sir. They were metal giants. And they were led by a monster straight out of Hell!"
The general laughed.
"Seriously. A monster out of Hell?"
"Yes. A woman. She killed my entire platoon. There was blood everywhere."
The eyes of the soldier began to water. He sobbed and broke.
The general had him carried out and hesitated. What were his enemies up to now?
-
The unit arrived in Chengdu. Climbing out of the derelict train, smoke billowing everywhere, they unloaded their crates and boxes. The other passengers took the opportunity to shoot a glance at the strange foreigners and their giant woman. There was still some debate going on whether this was actually a woman. With the big-noses, who could tell?
The Captain smiled at the conversation. He had tried to teach the others some Chinese, but so far, they could barely ask their way around. Hushed mumbles in the local dialect were beyond their reach. He was still reluctant to return, but he had no choice. His last stay in China had been hard on him and leaving abruptly had made him painfully aware of his country's shortcomings.
He organized a few porters and told his crew to get ready. It was time to set up camp and visit this Frenchman.
As could be expected, their arrival was duly noted by the locals. The warlords' spies immediately sent their henchmen to follow them and reported back. Outside the railway station, Little Phoenix waited for the unit to load their equipment on carts. When the convoy rolled out, she climbed on her bicycle and followed them. She grinned. These foreigners were idiots. What were they thinking, waltzing into the place without discretion? Everybody knew they were there. If they were counting on the element of surprise, they had miscalculated.
She pedaled on, fascinated by the speed she was reaching. The training she had followed had strengthened her body in an incredible fashion. She almost didn't feel the strain. There was also something about the surgery Hilde had had performed on her. It made her strangely aware of her surroundings in a way she had never expected. It was as if she knew what would happen seconds before it actually did. It had taken some time getting used to it, but now, the quickness came as second nature.
-
Ruth sat in the darkness, concentrating. She wore the hood and earmuffs as instructed. Carefully, she breathed in and out. Her heartbeat thundered through the silence. The muscular, powerful woman struggled to remain calm. She was desperate not to think, but she couldn't stop herself. She sighed, shocked by the loudness.
Hilde hadn't promised her too much. After the surgery, she had been shocked by the intensity of her perceptions. Ruth had become incredibly fast. It was as if the world had slowed down all around her. She could hear the drops of dew slip of the leaves, she could watch them as they descended, she could almost feel the minute flows of wind that changed its shape.
When she watched people move, it was as if they were in slow motion. It was ridiculous. They aimed their guns at her, and she didn't even have to evade their bullets. She just wasn't where they were shooting. If they actually managed to get a shot out, she saw the barrel belch its bullet and saw it close in on her and again, she was gone before it even came close.
The details she noticed were ridiculous. She saw the little drops of sweat and blood shoot of their skins, she smelled the fear pervading their existence. She could almost tell when their little hairs stood up to stave off the panic. It was almost cute.
On the other hand, this awareness came at a price. Life was tiresome if it went too slow and it was hard to bear the constant noise and smell. Since her change, she preferred to stay in the dark, just concentrating on her mind and isolating herself from all the chaos. Even with her eyes and ears covered, her other senses were sharp enough to feel the world around her. Amazingly, she had noticed she could almost tell the sound of speech from the impacts of the air on her skin. She still struggled to understand, but maybe soon, she'd even have that power.
She returned to her meditation. The confrontation would come soon enough. To ease her emptiness, she started reciting the words from the Open and Closed Hand. Jacob would guide her.
-
The man opened. He looked wild and tired. His hair was messy and he had a cigarette in the corner of his mouth. He looked at the unit for a second, his hand twitching:
"Americans?"
The Captain replied:
"Mostly. You're the Frenchman, a friend of Éduard-Marie de Saint Gilles?"
"Call me André. Come on in."
He held open the door. He seemed excited or at least twitchy. There was a certain movement about him. The unit entered. The small room was soon crowded. The place was a little messy, just like its occupant. There were art objects everywhere. Little statues, paintings, scrolls, books. It was hard for them to find a place to even stand. The host led them on into the garden. It was comfortable, with a little pond. He had them sit down and said:
"Voilà. Éduard-Marie has informed me." His voice sometimes trailed off into a mumble. Washington and the others were slowly growing uneasy. Gladys wondered if this man was well. "You've come to the right man. It is very difficult to understand the current situation. The warlords are fighting each other lazily, but there has been an évenement."
The Captain asked:
"What happened?"
"One of Tian's bandit patrols was torn up by monsters. I assume it is a new faction that has announced its presence."
"Can you help us find out more about them?"
"I will ask around." He lit another cigarette. "Until then, you should try to get the support of at least one of the warlords if you want to play a role around here. I'd recommend Tian, he's open to suggestions right now."
-
The general stood up:
"This is a surprise! Captain! It's been a while."
Tian stood up and walked over to the unit's members. There was an awkward exchange as Tian extended his hand in concentration while the Captain bowed. Tian laughed:
"Wonderful. We can't seem to agree."
"Last time, it was the other way round."
"I remember." Tian called for wine. "I think we have to celebrate. I didn't expect you to return to the Middle Empire."
"Me neither. After last time, I was mostly eager to never see it again."
"That would have been your loss. Now is a time of opportunity. It may look grim, but just wait. The Generalissimo is building a new China and men like me are there to fill the ranks. Men like you would be acceptable too, even if your noses are long."
"I'm sorry, but I'll have to pass. I have already found my loyalties."
"You mean you recovered them ..."
The Captain's face darkened for a moment. Tian laughed and seemed happy to have hit his guest's weak spot.
"Don't worry. These things are long behind us. For now, we can look forward to a bright future. Would you be so nice as to introduce me to your people? Some I remember, some I don't."
He spotted Gladys.
"And some are not men at all. Milady, I am Tian Songyao. At your service."
He took her hand, bowed and kissed it gently. Gladys was surprised and looked a little unsteady in her civilian clothes.
Just as the Captain tried to recover the situation, the alarm sounded and one of the guards stormed in.
-
The Captain understood. He turned to his unit and said:
"We're being attacked. They have war machines. I guess it's the Master." He turned to Tian:
"We have weapons that can fight them. They're at our quarters. If you hold the fort here, we'll get them."
Tian stared at him:
"Do you think you have so much time?"
"Do we have a choice?"
There was another crash, followed by the rattle of machine guns.
The Captain stormed out, ducking as he expected fire from the enemies. The others followed him. Tian screamed:
"Hurry!"
The base's soldiers ran to their positions. A detonation signaled that the wall had been breached. Troops opened fire into the opening. Amidst the cloud of smoke, there was another burst of gunfire. One of the defenders was struck in the head, the bullet piercing his helmet as if it were made of cardboard. The others threw themselves to the ground. The smoke billowed and revealed a massive steel leg. Out of the swirling fumes, a machine emerged. Gladys immediately understood that this was an improved version of those they had fought before. It was clearly more robust, better armored and faster. The engine seemed more powerful and the whole machine looked lower. It was clear that the designers had aimed for a lower profile. It advanced, its arm-mounted machine guns spraying bullets at the defenders. Behind the first armored giant, another one appeared.
The unit took cover. Oswald spat:
"Even the big guns won't hurt that thing. I'd recommend to retreat."
The Captain saw the soldiers flee, others preparing a field gun to get a shot at the armored warrior. They tried to load the gun, but were suddenly and literally cut short.
-
Gladys watched in horror as one of the men was split apart. She couldn't really see who did that, but she instinctively drew her handgun and opened fire. She could immediately tell that whoever had been there had already moved out of the way. How was that possible? Who could move so fast?
She saw muzzle-flashes and another group of men die. This was no soldier. This was a killer. Within moments, the defenders were fleeing or pleading for their lives. No one was thinking of ways to stop the war machines. The Captain was attempting to rally the soldiers, shouting in Chinese. She grabbed Oswald by the sleeve and shouted:
"We've got to get that gun firing!"
Oswald immediately ran after her. As they raced to the emplacement, she screamed for Washington and Yorkow to give them cover. The two men complied, picking up rifles from the hands of the fallen soldiers and shooting at the metal giants that were tearing the barracks apart. Behind the machines, soldiers appeared, advancing into the compound.
Gladys grabbed one of the shells and swiftly loaded it into the breech. Oswald took aim as fast as he could. The gun went off, it's bang disappearing in the overall noise. The shell roared through the air and struck the first armored attacker. The detonation was ear-shattering. At this range, Oswald and Gladys had to duck behind the gun's shield to avoid being hit by burning hot shrapnel.
The machine was clearly damaged, but not destroyed. Instead, Gladys stared as little limbs extended from the tear the exposoion had left and began closing it. She shouted:
"We need to shoot again!"
Suddenly, she felt something approach her fast.
-
Instinctively, she tried to block the blow. Her sinewy muscles contracted, trying to match the attacker's speed. It was pointless. Gladys saw the assailant's blade cut deep into her arm. A spray of blood stained her dress. She riposted as good as she could and tried to grab the superhuman fighter. Her foe moved so fast that it was hard to focus and get a good look.
Gladys jumped back, pulled out her gun and snapped off a pair of shots. She was shocked to see the black-clad assassin evade her bullets. The situation was dire. She thought quickly. Maybe she could get the fighter to focus on her. Her allies could then attack from behind and maybe stop the assault. Dodging the flurry of blows as good as she could, she retreated. All around her, chaos was erupting from every corner. The war machines advanced, tearing down the barracks and their defenders.
Tian tried to rally his troops, screaming in Chinese at the top of his voice. One of the steel giants took aim and tore him apart in a hail of bullets. The panic was indescribable. There was blood everywhere, fires had broken out and detonations rocked the ground.
Still, Gladys was forced to ignore all this. She struggled to stay alive, faced with the attacker's merciless onslaught.
All of a sudden, there was a glimmer of hope. She had just managed to evade another slice, her arms now bleeding profusely, when she noticed Oswald and Yorkow running towards the attacker. They fired, but the monster just twisted and the bullets flew by. Gladys charged, emptying her gun at the fighter. It was pointless. Once again, the bullets whizzed past, not even grazing the lightning-fast silhouette.
Then, Gladys slammed into her opponent.
-
Ruth felt the massive body of the other woman slam into her. She was dazed for a moment. It was just too much. Even with the hood, the sudden influx of sensory inputs confused her. She hadn't expected that anybody would get close enough to her for this to happen. Now she was being assailed by a mass of smells, tastes and touches that made her scream. Why had she failed to dodge that last attack?
She gritted her teeth, trying to recover. The sutras of the Open and Closed Hand rung in her ears as she attempted to regain her senses. The giant woman was on her, pulling back her fist for one devastating punch. In the last moment, Ruth jerked her head to the side in an unnatural movement. Gladys gasped as she missed her foe by half an inch. She sank the fingers of her other hand into the black silk the other woman was wearing and tried to throw her down.
Ruth found herself lifted and then smashed into the ground. Even as she fell, she twisted, her body contorting and her arms and legs suddenly pointing into bizarre directions. For Gladys, it was as if to try to wrestle with water. Still, she clung to the fabric.
By now, Ruth had her mind under control again. She pulled a knife from its sheath and stabbed at Gladys with lightning speed. The giantess felt the stings of the blade as it tore into her large muscles, but she held tight, again attempting to crush her opponent. Ruth hissed between her teeth:
"Die already!"
"No."
It was a simple statement of fact. Gladys had managed to grab the twisting black mass below her with her other hand. The black-clad, hooded fighter was still moving quickly, but she was almost pinned down. At the same time, Gladys was bleeding profusely. She just wished for the armor or maybe for some help. There was no chance of that. She had to crush that viper below her. At the same time, she felt her strength was fading. She had to finish the job!
-
I'm sorry, but I'll have to skip at least one update. But I assume it will get better soon.
I hope you don't mind.
-
Ruth was overwhelmed. The smell of blood and sweat, the intense pressure of the woman's arms. All this was incredible. She was ecstatic. On one hand, she was well-aware that this was dangerous as hell and that this monstrous creature could crush her into pulp if she managed to get a lever on her, on the other hand, this situation was turning her on tremendously. It was probably the whole Eros and Thanatos thing Hilde had talked about. She grunted, squealed and sighed, all the while continuing to cut her opponent wherever she could. The blood was now everywhere. Ruth longed for Gladys to pull off her hood. Then, she would be able to experience this fully. Only fighting by her smell, taste and touch was good enough, but imagine seeing and hearing it all!
She hit her enemy again. Somehow, the giant warrior became slower and weaker. Was this it already? She was disappointed.
"Come on! Is that all you got? Fight or die!"
Gladys tried to answer, but the wounds were too much for her already. She could feel herself blacking out. Her grip was failing. How could this be? She had trusted her strength and her endurance and now, they weren't enough. This monster under her hands was killing her and there was nothing she could do.
She fought to keep her wits together, tried to block out all doubt and squeezed as hard as she still could. There was a sickening sound as some of Ruth's bones splintered and broke. The insane fighter ignored this, even though her knife now hung limply in her hand. Gladys tried to exploit the advantage, but it was too late. Her vision faded and she collapsed on top of her enemy.
-
Gladys felt sore and weak. It was as if all strength had been drained from her. She slowly opened her eyes and noticed that she was lying on a rather comfortable bed now. It was some kind of infirmary. Above her there was a strange contraption built of brass tubing. She heard a voice from somewhere around her:
"Good morning! I am glad you are awake. How do you feel?"
"I'm tired."
"I can understand that."
The voice was strangely uniform, with little inflections and no accent at all. She tried to move her head and catch a glimpse of her caregiver. It hurt, but it was possible.
There was nobody around.
"Where are you?"
"Oh. Of course. I am above you."
"Where? In that tubing?"
"In a way, yes. I am Karel. I am a caretaking machine and it is my duty to help you get well."
Gladys was confused and decided to give this revelation some time to settle.
-
After a while, she felt clear enough to ask again. The machine immediately reacted and awaited her questions.
"Okay, Karel. You're a machine."
"Yes."
"Yet you speak like a person."
"Thank you. I try to do my best."
"Incredible. Where am I?"
"I am sorry, but I am not at liberty to divulge that information."
Gladys was amazed. That thing spoke like a fancy phrasebook. It asked:
"Are you in pain?"
"I'm not, just tired."
"That is to be expected. You lost a lot of blood."
"Oh, yes ... The fight. Now I remember. Did I win?"
"Once again, I cannot tell you. But you will learn soon enough. For now, you should rest."
"I guess you are right. Where are my friends?"
Before it started, she said:
"I see. But they are alive?"
"I regret. I cannot tell you. For now, please try to recover."
She sighed. Maybe it was better this way.
-
After a few days, Gladys felt better. Karel's treatment was excellent. He was courteous, friendly and available at every moment of the day. The machine carefully changed her bandages, applied ointments and checked her health, without ever even changing the tone of its voice. It probably couldn't.
Other than with the machine, Gladys had no contact with any living being. She was being held prisoner, so much was clear, but the cage was golden. When she was bored, Karel would read her a story or entertain her with some light conversation. It was weird to listen to the monotonous, friendly voice debate poetry with her. Whenever they reached a point where the robot was getting out of its depth, it stopped the discussion and declared that she needed a brief rest.
Slowly, Gladys discovered the limits of the thing. It was a splendid toy, but it was still a toy.
Then, one day, Karel declared:
"I believe that you are now healthy enough to take a little walk. Should I help you up?"
"Thank you. I'll manage."
She got to her feet, still shaky and weak. She noticed that the long time of inactivity had taken its toll on her physique. This annoyed her. She had spent years on perfecting her body, and now, she felt reduced, almost forced back on square one. On the other hand, Karel's treatment had prevented ugly scars to remain. That was something to be thankful for.
She stumbled to the door. As she approached it, Karel put a dressing gown on her shoulders. She closed it and stepped outside.
The vista amazed her. She was up in some enormous mountain range ... The Himalayas.
It took a while for her to take in all the beauty of this place. Karel's arms hovered close-by to catch her should she fall. She shook her head.
"It's okay. I'll take it slowly." She walked along the corridor. "I am the Master's prisoner, isn't that right?"
"That is correct."
"Now, where is the rest of my unit?"
-
"Don't tell me. 'I am not at liberty to divulge that information.' Right?"
"You are correct."
She reached an open space that offered an incredible view of the surrounding mountains. In the distance, a yak gnawed at some moss. Karel offered her a large fur coat.
"You appear to be cold. Best use this."
She wrapped her slightly deflated shoulders in the warm cloth and asked:
"Tell me: That symbol, the circle with the five vertical lines. Is that the Master's symbol?"
"It is."
"I understand. Funny."
"How so?"
"You wouldn't understand."
She walked to the edge of the platform. A large pane of glass allowed for a panoramic view while at the same time protecting the spectators from the gusts of wind. She turned to Karel's metal eye and asked:
"Do I count as a prisoner of war?"
"Not at all. We are no army. You are to be treated as our honored guest. This was the explicit order of the Master's second-in-command."
"The woman."
"I am not at liberty ..."
"It's okay. Well, I would like to exercise. All these days in the infirmary were bad for my health."
"That can be arranged."
"Thank you."
-
The next day, Karel led his ward to the gymnasium. It was a massive hall, its walls decorated with ancient frescoes. There were watching eyes, glaring demons and long calligraphies. The place seemed to be a former temple. Whoever had adapted it for training had tried to fit the equipment and technology to the original style. This gave the whole place a weirdly ancient feel.
Right now, it was deserted. Gladys said:
"Thank you. Just a question ..." She pointed at some of the machines that stood around. "What are these?"
"They are special exercise devices developed by our scientists. They are more efficient than regular weights and the risk of hurting yourself is lower."
"Fascinating ... Can I try them?"
"Of course. I will explain their use. Also, here is an outfit for training."
Gladys didn't want to tell the machine that she was now used to exercising in the buff. Somehow, she was still uncertain this was really a machine. She couldn't be certain, but there might be a real person on the other end of this thing. She didn't want to be naked in front of it. She thanked him and took the outfit.
Disappearing behind a screen, she changed as fast as she could. Her body still hurt and she could tell she was not only out of shape, but also reduced in her range of motion. That fight had been the worst in her life. She seriously hoped she'd never hope to face that monster again. On the other hand, she knew this was probably inevitable.
She stepped back into the hall. The outfit fit tightly, yet allowed her to move freely. It was a weird change to the usual linen or wool suits she used. Also, it covered her torso and upper thighs, as well as the shoulders, but left the rest of her body naked. Somehow, she felt a pang of shame. You could really see everything with such a clingy fabric.
The black and red design also made it look aggressive and powerful. All in all, not a bad thing, but it would definitely would take some getting used to. The machine asked:
"Are you comfortable? I had it made to size."
She stretched a little:
"It's very comfortable. Thank you."
"Good. Now, let me explain the machines."
-
Gladys instantly returned to her fitness lifestyle. Within a few days, she was recovering her muscle. Somehow, these machines made it really easy. There was much less strain and she didn't have to concentrate so much on correctly performing the movements. Somehow, the machines took care of that. Also, after a little begging, Karel had agreed to supply her with a Spartan diet that really returned her power. Soon, she admired herself in the mirrors. She flexed her powerful arms and was astonished by the size her biceps had gained. It was even bigger than it had been before.
"This is incredible. I've been strong before, but I never imagined I could reach this level."
The robot examined her and said:
"You are way beyond what is expected of a woman."
"I know. That's always been my thing."
She switched the pose and brought out her triceps.
"Actually, I think that I am way beyond what is expected of a man too."
The machine clicked and calculated, then declared:
"That is correct."
"So, now that I am back at health, when am I going to meet my captors? They've been treating me well and yet, they're not asking any questions."
For a moment, the machine seemed to smile. Could it do this? She doubted it. Then, she understood:
"You're not questioning me. You're examining me."
"That is correct. We have gained important information about you and your mindset. However, we will allow you to interact with other prisoners soon."
"That's a relief. Also, thank you for treating me well."
"I am happy to help."
The statuesque woman smiled. Of course, she was captive, but still, her jailers were treating her well. She'd have to think about this.
-
A few days later, Gladys was allowed to enter a kind of common room. She had started to record the progress of time by scratching lines into a hidden part of the wall, hoping that Karel had noticed her. She had been here for several weeks now and she had absolutely no idea what was going on in the rest of the world. Although she was provided with food, exercise and even entertainment, she was painfully aware that the Master's troops could by now have invaded most of China and she wouldn't know.
She got dressed, happy to finally meet another human being. Conversation with Karel was interesting and the machine was knowledgeable on almost any subject, but she really longed for contact with another member of her species now. The door opened. In her red and black outfit, she looked tough and focused. It felt odd, but she quite liked it. It was well-tailored, making her look feminine without seeming weak. She looked around. There was some basic furniture: A divan, a table and chairs and oddly enough a billiard table. At the table, Washington had just finished his move and looked up. He immediately dropped the queue and almost ran to her. He embraced her. She did the same. He produced an "oof!"-sound, so she relaxed a little. No point in crushing the man. He said:
"Gladys! I was so worried!"
"Me too. How are you?"
"I'm fine. They're treating me well. How about you?"
"I missed you. But other than the solitude, I can't complain."
"That's good. Have you noticed: We're in the Himalayas."
"I've been outside a little. It is impressive."
He touched her face.
"I'm so glad you're well. I was worried sick. Do you have any idea what happened to the others?"
She smiled:
"No. I don't."
She led him to the divan and sat down next to him. He did look small and rather weak next to her. Should she tell him right away? She hesitated, then decided to wait. She had to be certain.
-
"So, how have they been treating you?" Gladys smiled gently.
"Pretty good, I guess. I get food, I get sleep and now, I can even meet you."
She couldn't help blushing although she didn't feel it. Some feelings were clearly deeply ingrained in her mind, whether she liked it or not. He asked:
"Have they asked any questions?"
"Not at all. They were just careful to look after my health. They showed no interest in the unit."
He leaned closer:
"I don't think that's a good sign."
"Do you think they're all dead?"
She was shocked by the thought. Of course, it was perfectly possible. Washington continued:
"Honestly, I'm wondering why our people haven't come looking for us. We've been around for a while."
Gladys nodded:
"I think that they're not coming. Besides, we shouldn't talk too much about this. The walls have ears."
Washington gave her an enigmatic smile.
"They do, I guess."
There was a pause, then she asked:
"Tell me, since when have you been a traitor?"
-
"Me, a traitor?"
"It wasn't easy to find out, but when I saw that symbol, I understood. She pointed at the lines and circle above the door. It's the Open and Closed Hand, isn't it?"
Washington watched her intently.
"And if it were?"
"Then I would ask you why you suggested the trip to the ruins."
"I did?"
"You did. And I think I know why."
"Do tell me. I'm interested how I might be a traitor."
"We went to the ruins and met that old man. He was friendly and everything and he very clearly had me have the Master's book. It took me a while to understand, but the symbol fits the title. The lines are the fingers, the circle is the palm."
"That's possible."
"It's true. So I guess you were in on this. Of course, there's the question why."
"That's a very big question. I don't follow at all."
She approached him:
"It's easy and understandable. Even though the Captain might be an honest man and able to tell that you are an excellent soldier and agent, you're never going to make it. They're never going to give you that commission you want. You also love me. This honors me and I actually might love you back. It's hard for me, because since life is as it is, we're not going to be able to marry. My parents will never accept that."
"So far, everything you say is true. The Captain might talk about desegregation, but the top brass will never have it."
"So here you are, putting your life on the line for a country that despises you and a culture that treats you like a nuisance. And on the other hand, there's the Master, with his promises. Reading that book opens anybody's eyes, so you wanted me to have it. I'd read it and I'd understand and then, I'd join you."
"The way you put it, even if I wasn't a traitor, I should be one."
"So that's a confession?"
"I think so. But it's more complicated than that."
-
He sat down and motioned her to do the same.
"Now ... It isn't easy to explain, but for my family, every war was an opportunity to finally get a fair chance at life. Every time it was about bravery and skill and not about color, we got better. So when the opportunity came, I joined the army. I fought in Russia and in South America and in the Caribbean. Eventually, I ended up in China with the Captain. At that time, I was still completely convinced that I was doing the right thing. But then, we were send to protect our stuff and our people during another uprising. The people were getting shot by revolutionaries or rebels or militia and we thought we could protect them too. The Captain ordered us to get in formation and make it clear to the attackers that they were dealing with real soldiers. When the higher-ups got wind of that, they ordered us back. The people we fought to protect were butchered. And even though I still respect the Captain, I decided to chose my allegiance. There was no point in fighting for people who didn't care about their fellow men."
"There was probably some political reason ..."
"Of course. There's always a political reason. And it's all very reasonable. But the world is mostly people not like those I was fighting for and I decided that this wasn't what my country should be about. You know, freedom."
Gladys watched him intensely. Washington had become very emotional during his little speech. He was a little out of breath and wiped the sweat of his brow. He added:
"I'm sorry I ranted, but for me, this is the only solution. And I'd be happy if you'd join me. I love you and I want this world to be ours."
Gladys nodded:
"I understand. I'm sorry, Grant, but I won't be with you then. I believe in this and I won't go back on my word."
He sighed:
"Somehow, I knew you'd say that. Sadly, that means that you'll have to deal with the Master's second-in-command next. She's not a pleasant person."
"I'll manage. Thank you."
He got up and left.
-
The next day, Gladys was left alone, but in the evening, she was visited by two women in black. One was rather old, but seemed to be in good shape, the other one might have been younger, but she couldn't tell. She wore a hood that covered the top part of her face. Gladys wondered how this woman could see, but she didn't bump into any things, so maybe there was some kind of trick to it. What surprised her the most, though, was that the younger woman's movements were extremely quick. She had to think of a hummingbird when she watched her. This woman seemed familiar after all. They sat down next to her. The older woman started:
"You're Gladys van Rothe, aren't you?"
"I am."
"Very well. How do you feel?"
"I am fine, thank you." She immediately stopped herself. "I will only give you my name, rank and serial number."
"You're no prisoner. You were found without uniform and we are not a military. The rules don't apply."
A more experienced soldier might have known what to say now, but Gladys, who had actually been more of an agent than a soldier was momentarily confused.
"They don't?"
The woman smiled:
"No. But don't worry. We know what we need to know. There's mostly one question to be answered: We want the formula they've used on you. Would you be willing to help us understand it?"
Gladys was surprised. They did know everything. Washington probably told them.
"I won't. I'm sorry, but I don't know anything about it and I don't want to help you."
"That's sad. You could have done something for women all over the world. It's not as if they couldn't need more strength in their daily lives."
Gladys hesitated. The idea was interesting. Before her mind's eye, she saw a world of strong women capable of taking responsibility and earning respect.
"It's still no. You're the aggressors. Helping you would only make things worse."
"Very well. We'll ask again tomorrow. But be careful. If you don't cooperate, we might have to find ways to make you talk."
The hooded woman added:
"We can still learn a lot by just looking inside you."
Her voice cut like steel.
-
That evening, Gladys realized that things were going to turn ugly. She had to escape and she had to be quick. However, there were several problems with that: First, it didn't seem like Karel would ever fall asleep. He also seemed to be able to see in the dark. Second, she could move freely in the area, but she didn't even know where the exit was. It seemed as if she lived in a self-contained place. There had to be an entrance, but she had no idea where. Third and last, she was somewhere in the Himalayas. Without proper equipment and at least some knowledge of the environment, she would die.
She decided to try and find the exit first. Without that, she had no chance anyway, so she could start with this. Over the next days, she was questioned by the pair over and over again. Instead of resisting, Gladys tried to stay vague. She played for time, even going as far as to describe the process she had been subjected to. It wasn't much help and the twitchy, aggressive woman made it clear that unless she gave them real information, she would find out.
On the other hand, she did make some progress. Apparently, the door was set in the roof of the common room. There was a round hatch that opened, then an art-deco suitcase extended downwards. Getting on this thing without Karel noticing was pointless. Gladys had to admit to herself that she was stuck. She had to block Karel.
Just as she was giving in to despair, Washington announced himself. She had him come in. He looked tired and a little edgy.
"I just wanted to check in on you."
She was glad to see him, despite their previous disagreement.
"I'm fine, thank you."
"That's good. Listen, I'm supposed to do the good cop-act here, but I don't want to trick you. I'm just going to put the cards on the table. If you won't join us, that's okay, but we need that technology. So please, cooperate."
"I'm sorry, but I can't."
"That's too bad. Well, at least I tried."
He got up.
"I hope you don't mind that I give this back to you. It's worthless to me now."
He handed her a postcard. She didn't know what to make of it and looked at him in confusion. He jerked his head imperceptibly and she decided not to ask.
"I'm going. Be well and think clearly about this. I don't want you to get hurt."
She looked at the postcard after he left. It was a simple card that showed a group of jazz musicians. The text was completely inane. Gladys touched it carefully. That's when she noticed the message. There were letters on it. Apparently, Washington had used a typewriter without ink ribbon. She put the postcard into her pocket. She'd read it later.
-
In the dark of the night, she took out the card and examined it carefully. Karel hadn't switched off, so much was clear, but she doubted he'd notice what was going on. The moon shone in through the window and she held the card so that she could read what was written. It said:
"Dear Gladys!
This is the only way I can help you. They are losing patience and they're going to just cut you up. You have to escape. To knock out Karel, connect the dots on the other side. The pattern confuses him. I'll lower the stairs as soon as he's knocked out. You'll have to find a way down the mountains. Please stay away from trouble. We're going to make our move soon, so stay with your family until it's over.
Please don't die. I love you.
Grant"
She looked at the card and sighed. Their life could have been so much easier. The poor guy was sacrificing everything to help her and she could do nothing to save him. Did she love him? Probably. Could she be true to him? Not in this world.
She took a pencil and started connecting the dots. It soon turned into a very complex symbol. She had no idea what to make of it. If it worked, the postcard was her ticket out of here.
Gladys lay in the dark for a while. She tried to make up her mind. Should she flee? Could she actually get away without being massacred?
The moon shone, ignoring her plight. Up here, it looked enormous. Suddenly, a large shape darkened it. There was a loud buzzing and rumbling and a huge airship flew by, surrounded by smaller aircraft.
Maybe she should stay here for a while, but not in here.
She got up and switched on the light. Time to confuse the machine.
-
Karel's eye immediately popped into view.
"How can I assist you?"
Gladys held up the card. The machine examined it carefully. She could see the robot eye tried to follow the lines. It took a moment, then the disembodied eye blinked and produced a strange, metallic noise. It didn't sound too good. There was a whirring, then a squeak and finally a hiss. Karel said:
"Welcome. Welcome. Welcome. My name is Karel. My name is Karel. My name is ... Karel. How may I assist ..."
The voice died down. The eye hung there, paralyzed. Gladys moved her hand in front of it as if checking on a sleeping person. Nothing. Whatever had happened, the thing was shot. She nodded to herself. She had no idea how that had worked, but she was free to go now. She walked over to the door and looked outside. Nobody. That was just as well. It probably wouldn't take long for people to realize that Karel was busted, so she had to act quickly. She got out into the common room and saw the stairs slowly extend downwards. She got on them as soon as they were low enough for her to grab them and pulled herself up. Above, she found a pack. She grabbed it. It was probably from Washington. There was a blanket slung on top and a thick coat as well as some boots.
She hesitated. Going outside was dangerous. She didn't know the area and chances were they'd track her with dogs and look for her from the air. Getting away was basically impossible. She appreciated Washington's effort, but she knew she had no chance. She had to find another way.
That's when she noticed that the tracks on which Karel moved around here were suspended from the roof at a certain height. Also, they didn't go everywhere.
She smiled. That was a weird idea, but it could work.
-
With a quick jump, Gladys grabbed the rail and pulled herself up. She climbed up and balanced on the beam. In a few moments, people would turn up to check on Karel, so she had to be quick. She carefully followed the rail, eventually finding a part of the building that hadn't been refurbished. Below her, she had seen several patrols that ran to her prison. She was so glad they didn't look up. Up there, she had no cover. If they spotted her, they'd just shoot her. Instead, they shouted things in an unknown language and disappeared. Gladys dropped from her perch and looked around. The place was deserted. The walls seemed decrepit, the ancient paintings on the wall were cracked and faded. Other than a few crates, there was nothing interesting there.
After checking for any signs of guards and waiting for the search parties' noise to die down, Gladys examined her situation. As long as she evaded the guards and Karel's eye, she could stay here. She was certain she could steal food from the mess and maybe even find several hideouts. She grinned when she thought of the Open and Closed Hand: "Hide under the eyes of your enemy."
Next, she had to find out what happened to the rest of the unit, save them if necessary and possibly fight the Master and his minions, even if that meant getting into a struggle with Washington. She wasn't too sure if she wanted to do this, but she probably had to. Also, there was this bizarre woman. She had no idea what to make of here, but she made her deeply uneasy.
All in all, there was a lot to do and she had little to no idea how to manage all this. On the other hand, she had been through worse, and she wasn't entirely sure why, but since her stay here, she felt stronger and tougher. Maybe it was a late aftereffect of the treatment.
She couldn't tell, but she liked it.
-
Just a question: Is anybody still reading this thing?
I like to write it, but there's just a lot of silence. Is it good silence or bad silence?
-
Highlight of the day, El Roy - always good plot and exposition (never mind your excellent writing relfecting teh "period" nature of the story
:cool2:
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Highlight of the day, El Roy - always good plot and exposition (never mind your excellent writing relfecting teh "period" nature of the story
:cool2:
Thank you!
-
I look forward to each new section. This is a truly a wonderful piece of literature, and you have done a marvelous of fleshing out an alternative earth. Please keep going.
CP
-
I'm glad you enjoy it!
Jacob was getting ready for his arrival. He was tired. The last weeks and months had been draining. Playing the Master-persona every day and every night was really making him loathe it. The few days as a French gentleman in Indochina had been a welcome change of scenery. Gathering information about this unit of Washington and their amazon had also been fun. The thought of her impressive, naked body made him smile. If her were ten years younger and not her mortal enemy, maybe he would have fallen in love ...
Well, maybe he could stop her seeing him as her foe. The seed had been planted.
He rubbed his temples and returned to the task at hand. The documents laid out before him showed a certain promise. All over the world, people were flocking to the Master's cause. Even groups in whose creation he had no part popped up and started working along his principles. The situation was quickly improving. The governments still believed that this was a problem to be solved with violence, but he just let them run into his arms.
At the same time, he was aware that there would have to be violence at some point. Governments and trusts wouldn't just fade softly into the night. He was struggling with himself. Too soft and he would embroil his troops in endless unsustainable skirmishes, too hard and people would turn their backs on him.
He'd have to consult with the others. They'd advise him, but in the end, he'd have to decide for himself.
Jacob adjusted his outfit, or rather his costume. It immediately gave him a feeling of strength and self-control.
He'd also have to look after Ruth. He trusted her, but lately, reports had been strange. Maybe it hadn't been such a good idea to just hand the stronghold over to her and let her decide on everything. Too much power could be tempting ...
The airship landed slowly. The honor guard took up positions. The gate was lowered and Jacob saw the transformed monastery before him. Walls had been reinforced with concrete, towers had been added. The construction crews had been careful to preserve the style of the place, but it was clear that this was a fortress. He looked at the assembled troops and workers and saw Ruth, Hilde and Grant awaiting him. It was odd to see that Ruth's face was covered. He wondered what this was about.
-
Ruth took a breath. Jacob was there. She could smell him perfectly, his doubts and fears. It was funny. Now that she had all this awareness, she realized how she had always felt this. She just couldn't put her finger on it. Back in the day, when they were children, he had often smelled like that. Of course, she couldn't have said that then, she just knew. This was what he felt like when he was afraid that someone might find out that he was lying.
Somehow, this was ridiculous. He was now one of the most powerful and influential people on the planet and yet, he seemed like a sorry little kid that was trying to keep appearances up and prevent his uncle from clipping him around the ears for stealing apples from the tree. She smirked. In a certain way, it was shocking that the other people allowed themselves to be blinded by his show in such a way. It was obvious that this was all just make-believe and yet, they gobbled it up.
Together with all the others, she bowed and prostrated herself. Was there a whiff of embarrassment?
Ruth waited for him to pass her. It was funny how the other troops and agents were nervous. They would have to explain how Gladys van Rothe had disappeared. For her, it was pretty obvious. That fool, Washington, had just let her get away. It was clear that he desired her, maybe even loved her. He had allowed her to flee. Ruth was quite certain the other woman was still in the base. Having the nose of a bloodhound had its perks. Still, Ruth had decided to keep the squatter on her books. That was an ace up her sleeve that she might yet use. Also, the tissue and blood samples and x-rays were probably enough to replicate whatever process had turned her into such a goddess.
And then, she already knew who'd find good use for this.
-
Once the Master was done inspecting the complex, he retired to his quarters. After a while, Ruth had herself announced by the guards. The Master had her let in. She came inside and smiled:
"So, how do you like it?"
"It's impressive. I hadn't imagined it to be so grand."
"The architects were happy to work on this. I gave them free rein, I only wanted to keep the overall look."
"Well, that was a good idea."
She bowed.
"Thank you. I learned from the best."
Jacob blushed a little. The whole situation was a little ridiculous. Here he was, all dressed up as a mighty cult leader and prophet while his childhood friend stood there in leather fatigues and with a martial-looking hood. He had her sit down next to him.
"We've come a long way, haven't we?"
"Certainly. I still can't believe it."
"There isn't much left to do. If everything goes well, we'll need only one attack and they will submit."
Ruth nodded quietly. She could feel his fear of this decision. She carefully put her hand on his arm.
"Don't worry. The sacrifice will be worthwhile."
He sighed.
"I'm not certain. We've built up so much. If we screw this up, the whole work will be for nothing and the entire idea will be lost. People will never trust this again."
"I don't think we can wait."
"I'm aware of that. I've seen the numbers. Either this works or it will collapse on itself."
He stared into nothing for a moment. He hesitated.
"I never imagined it to work this way. And now, it's too big to stop. When I asked you to join, we had a kind of commune and a militia. We had brilliant minds, yes, but then people wanted to help and we let them. And now, the world awaits."
"Jacob, don't worry. I've known you for a long time and you're a fool. You're a funny guy with grand plans and little shame. You'll make it work. Besides, you're no little kid anymore. You're the Master."
"I guess you're right. Thank you."
"No problem. I believe in you."
He smiled, relieved. Then, he asked:
"By the way, what's this with the hood?"
-
The Captain was stumbling through the fields, trying to get back to the town. When the attack hit, he had been thrown to the ground and knocked out. He had only woken up when it was long over. He had searched the area and found Oswald, who had somehow still been alive. They had had a moment to talk, but then, his face had grown tired and he had sighed one last time.
"What a bunch of crap. I don't know, but China hates us, doesn't it?"
The Captain had caressed his head:
"Yeah. I don't know. You can't win them all."
"Fuck."
He had stopped breathing and that had been it. Since the enemy was still on the prowl, the Captain didn't have much choice than to leave the site. He had looked around, trying to find anybody else. Yorkow was missing, so were van Rothe and Washington. Hamilton had also disappeared. He was certain they were still around there somewhere, but he couldn't help them now. He had to get reinforcements. He just hoped they had been captured. There was still a chance to save them.
The Captain reached the town and finally found the Frenchman's house. He had flown, either because of the battle or because he feared their return. The Captain couldn't tell.
He busted open the door and grabbed his equipment before heading for the post office. He had to inform the government. There was something big brewing here and the sooner he had help, the more they could do to prevent it from destroying them all.
-
Gladys had been hiding around the base for a while now. There were frequent problems with surveillance, so she could easily grab some food and drink. She had even managed to set up a bed of sorts and found a way to keep herself clean. Her discovery of some abandoned passages left by the monks had been the final key to her life on the edge of the cult.
Her explorations had led her through the entire base and she was surprised by what she discovered. The construction crews were building enormous underground shelters, there were administrative buildings, archives, hangars and factories. The whole area was both inaccessible and highly organized. She didn't have much knowledge of siegecraft, but she was quite certain that this fortress was impregnable. Bombing it might be an option, but an assault up here was doomed to fail.
She also managed to catch a glimpse of the preparations the Master's troops were going through. He was gathering his support from all over the world, assembling armies and readying fleets of airships and planes. Trouble was brewing.
Gladys hesitated. She was certain she had to warn somebody, but she had no idea how to do it. The communications system was well guarded and as soon as she acted, she was bound to get killed by hordes of enemies.
She had to wait, even though it hurt her.
After a while, she accepted that there was no way out. She could continue squatting here, eventually be discovered and then end up being cut up and analyzed. She could try to send a message and get killed on the way. She could try to sabotage the place and maybe take out the Master. She'd die anyway.
The realization horrified her. She sat in the darkness of her hiding place and couldn't hold back the tears anymore. She was young and she had prepared all her life for a life of adventure and battle and now, she was there, caught in a place without escape and unable to do anything. She had ruined her life, forcing herself into a system that had told her time and again that she wasn't supposed to be there. She had insisted, and now, she was caught in her own hubris. She cried and felt sorry for herself. It was just too ridiculous: It was inconceivable that her parents and all the well-meaning folks had been right.
-
Ruth returned to her quarters. All around her, the smells of the agents and the troops swirled. She was ecstatic. Jacob had been shocked by the new intensity of her power. She was the Closed Hand. She was his complement. All his friendliness, his doubts, his optimism, they were all reflected in her. She was the Fist. She would bring down this world and Jacob would create a new one from its ashes. As soon as he'd asked, she had climbed on top of him and forced him down. His mere touch was so intense she almost orgasmed on the spot. It was incredible. Her senses had overwhelmed her, turning her into a beast. She had ridden him as hard as she could, making him squeal for mercy. He could hardly contain himself, least of all decide what to do.
His slow, relaxed manner was no match to her tremendous power and energy. She was grinding him down, destroying his mind with her relentless lust. Her body was like steel, his was like water. She was the unstoppable force, he was the unmovable obstacle. When he came, she felt his seed spread inside her. It was bizarre. She had never thought such an experience was even possible. She screamed in ecstasy and pain, fully aware that this was what she had lived for.
Ruth pushed open the door. She had smelled Gladys on the way there. The poor girl was still trying to sneak around here. Ruth had decided to keep some left-overs for her so she wouldn't starve. It was like having a pet. She walked in and found Hilde, who was still working.
"So, still at it?"
"Oh, yes. I can't stop now. This is fascinating. I already received new documents from the laboratory and they think they can replicate the procedure."
"That's great news."
Ruth stepped up to her mentor and slipped her hand down her cleavage. Since Hilde had transformed her body, she frequently wore revealing outfits that would have been completely unacceptable for a woman her age. Ruth gave her soft breast a little squeeze and grinned when she felt the skin tighten and all the little hairs stand up.
"I've just been with the Master, but I could use some seconds."
Hilde sighed mockingly:
"So I'll have to continue my work tomorrow."
"I think so."
-
The morning was cold, even colder than usual up here. Gladys noticed that there was a bustle of activity. People were shouting, things were being carried around. Something big was brewing. She had managed to stay hidden for a while now and was beginning to wonder whether they were actually still looking for her. She felt alone, tired and aimless. She had occasionally seen Washington as he went about his daily tasks, but she hadn't dared attract his attention.
Days had turned into weeks. Gladys passed the time as good as she could, taking abandoned books from tables in the night or exercising. Somehow, she was making progress again. The food here had to be really nutritious. Maybe it was the altitude.
The warrior-woman had somehow disappeared. She had lurked close to her hiding place for a while, making her fear she'd spot her. In the end, she had always left. The Master was still brooding over his decisions. Gladys had had no idea how to deal with this kind of pause. Somehow, the world had decided to hold his breath. When she checked the information in the lounge, she had seen that there wasn't much going on. Apparently, the economy worldwide was slowly recovering as more and more money was being poured into preparations for war, however, neither side was making its move yet. Several countries were vacillating and trying to decide who to back. The Master had slowly expanded his dominion in China and was slowly spreading his message down the rivers on all sides of the Himalaya. The U.S. government was trying to get rid of the Master's base in the dust bowl, but the locals were resisting rather peacefully.
It was clear that something big was going to happen.
And then, Gladys had a glimpse of the future.
She was out and about in the night, climbing out of the building to just get a little fresh air even if it was freezing cold. She jogged easily along the roof ridge, careful to soften her steps. The engineers had built a massive landing strip up here. It was really long, which was odd since the Master usually preferred airships. That's when she saw a gigantic red and black shape being pushed on the tarmac under the glare of the searchlights. She came closer and watched.
It was a plane, but it lacked propellers. There were strange gondolas attached to its wings. It was very large and heavy. There was even more activity. Then, the thing was ready. People were moving to cover. She didn't dare blink lest she missed something. The engines started up. There was a kind of screeching howl. Flames shot out of the gondolas. The machine bucked and reared, ready to go.
And then, they released the brakes.
Gladys had never seen such speed. Within moments, the jets of flame propelled the machine forward, howling and screaming as it went faster and faster. The plane was now a blur of motion. Then, with a hiss, it lifted off and soared. There were cheers all around.
She watched as the plane performed some maneuvers at break-neck speed, then returned, landing gently.
In that moment, she thought two things: One, she wanted to fly this thing. Two, no air force in the world was able to stop this.
This night returned to her memory now. The forces of the Master were getting ready. The day had come.
-
The Captain returned to the stateside base camp by plane. He was tired, having barely slept in the bare hold of the small plane that had carried him back from China. The Colonel had insisted on him returning quickly. Apparently, there were things afoot that would need his attention. He climbed out of the plane and immediately spotted the Colonel's chauffeur. He greeted him and was directed to the car. Getting inside, he was surprised to see both the Colonel and the President's secretary. He said:
"That's a surprise, sir. What is going on?"
The slim man smiled and answered:
"A lot, Captain. The situation is degrading faster than we thought."
The car started. The Colonel added:
"It's good to have you back. Do you know anything of my daughter?"
"I'm far from certain, sir, but I believe she has been captured."
The old man fought back his tears and gritted his teeth. It took a while for him to recover. He hissed:
"I shouldn't have let her do this."
The Captain sighed:
"I should have looked after her, sir."
"You couldn't have. She is much too stubborn for this. That's also what gives me hope. She is too tough to give in."
"Let's hope for the best, sir."
"We should. Now, to the task at hand."
The President's man explained:
"We seem to be caught between frying pan and fire now. On one hand, our secret services report unusual activity of the Master's henchmen, on the other hand, a group of business men and officers believe that our President is too lax on the Master and his followers. It appears they are moving to stage a coup."
The Captain smiled grimly:
"That is certainly going to improve our chances against the Master."
The secretary nodded:
"Absolutely. Our agents try to contain them, but an offensive against the Master seems necessary, at least for PR."
"I wouldn't do it. Our forces are no match. I am aware that the Chinese soldiers I saw are little more than bandits and their equipment is outdated, but they were annihilated in a way that shocked me. I can't imagine our troops managing an assault on positions defended by such fighters. Their mechanized troops alone are too much and they have air support."
"Happily, we have an ace up our sleeves. Professor Ibrahimovic has been working overtime. We have several platoons of supersoldiers ready now. They're being trained as we speak."
The Captain looked at him for a long time as the landscape shot by outside. Then, he said:
"That's good for you, sir."
"I take it you're not interested?"
"I have my doubts on this whole operation. It seems rushed and I prefer to set up my troops according to my own preferences. Also, I have seen the reports on previous supersoldier attempts. It worked on van Rothe, but that project has got hubris written all over it."
The secretary shrugged:
"That is too bad. We will find somebody else, then. Consider yourself on indefinite leave."
"I understand and would prefer this, sir. Could you let me out there?"
He pointed at the taxi stop down the street. The secretary looked at the Colonel. The old man nodded, clearly disappointed. There was a short, awkward pause until the Captain was finally out.
-
Ruth regained consciousness. As usual, all around her was dark. She had to sleep with the hood on so she could cope with all the diversions going on around her. Slowly, she breathed in, taking in her surroundings. Hilde was there. Little Phoenix was a little further away and stared silently at her. Ruth asked:
"So, how did it go? I'm hungry."
She felt her friend's voice on her skin:
"It went well. You look marvelous."
"That's a relief. I want to see it."
"Are you sure about that?"
"I'm certain. I need to see this with my own eyes."
Hilde gently helped her friend to her feet. Ruth noticed that the proportions had changed. Hilde was now much smaller. The realization was intoxicating. She was now truly superhuman. She was aware that her recovery would have to be quick. Jacob wanted to launch his attack on the day after tomorrow. She had to be ready by then.
She now stood on her feet. The power she felt in her transformed body was incredible. She slowly lifted her arms, surprised by their mass and strength. Ruth reached for the hood and removed it carefully.
Instantly, her mind was assaulted by the enormity of reality. She could see every little hair on Hilde's skin, the little droplets of sweat by Little Phoenix' neck, she could see every little irregularity of the concrete. Time seemed to slow down and she was perfectly aware of every minute change. She grinned as her mind went into overdrive, processing all this and allowing her to react before others had even made up their minds.
Before her, there was a large mirror held by Little Phoenix. She gasped when she saw her reflection. The sight was incredible. She almost lost herself in the insane complexity of her physique. She had truly become godlike. She was more than anyone could ever have had imagined. She had seen the other amazon, Gladys, but her body was just an amplified version of a normal, albeit powerful human.
Ruth, on the other hand, was a goddess. Her muscles were outrageously big, while also having acquired a certain streamlined power that seemed to emanate from her center. Her shoulders were wide and strong, with clearly defined striations and cuts. Her arms were works of steel art. She gasped as she saw the many tiny changes they went through as she flexed them. Her biceps were split and cut, covered in veins and clearly insanely strong.
She took a deep breath. Her chest rose. She noticed the numerous freshly healed scars were the doctors had inserted the new organs and glands. They'd fade in time, but then again, little did she care. With a body like hers, vanity was hardly a luxury. She let her back flare, extending a cobra-hood of muscle. Her waist was slim and rock-hard. It rested on a crotch completely covered in powerful tissue and built on the foundation of twin columns of strength. She took a few steps and smiled as the power of her legs gave her a springy lightness. She did a mock ballet pose, surprised at how easy she held it.
She slipped the hood back on. She had seen enough. She was the Closed Hand and she would reap the world.
Turning to her acolytes, she said:
"You will have this done too. I need you as my guards."
Hilde and Little Phoenix almost screamed their affirmation. They would be hers forever.
-
Below Gladys, the planes were getting ready. Airships were being prepared. Masses of troops were taking up positions. Once everything was ready, screens everywhere came on. Everybody could see the face of the Master flickering in black and white. There was a short signature, then the bald, bearded man looked up and said, with a calm, controlled voice:
"My followers, my friends. Tonight is the night we change the world. We have prepared for this for years. We have built, we have learned, we have invented and we have steeled ourselves for the fight to come. In one fell swoop, we are going to destroy the old world and create a new one. I have but one request: I ask you to be merciless once. The war will be short and we will crush those that oppose us. On the ashes of their vanity, we will build a just and true world, a world of the future!"
There were cheers all around. The Master continued:
"You have your orders. Follow them and bring us all victory! History is on our side and tomorrow, a new age will be born! Fight and see the first rays of a new dawn for humanity and the world!"
The cheers drowned out whatever was said next. Finally, he said:
"Some will die in this battle. We will remember them. This will be their immortality. Those that don't will live to build the new world. They will use your sacrifice as a foundation for a future of prosperity, happiness and love. This is the Open Hand and it will lead you to a world beyond your imagination. I thank you now for your will and your strength. Don't be afraid, for nothing and no one can stop us!"
Thunderous applause roared over the mountaintops.
Gladys had heard enough and climbed down on the airfield. She had to get a plane and stop this.
-
You're probably wondering about the next part. I've been really busy, so the next part will be ready tomorrow. Sorry.
-
Gladys quickly snuck into one of the pilot rooms and grabbed a flight-suit. She picked a cap and found a rubber mask that concealed her lower face. It looked a little like a gas mask. She wondered what it was for, but put it on. This way, she could get on one of the planes easily. She walked outside, confident in her disguise. She was careful to keep an eye on her surroundings. She was improvising and she had to be ready for anything.
A troop of pilots jogged by, getting to their planes. They soon climbed into the red and black propeller-less planes and took off. Gladys looked around and found a crew getting one of the machines ready. She decided to dare it all and walked up to it confidently. The crew ignored her, busy with their work. She turned to the officer and said:
"I'm ready."
She tried to lower her voice, but the woman wasn't surprised in the least. She nodded and said:
"Good luck."
"I'll need it."
She climbed up and into the cockpit. It took a while to find a comfortable position. She took the checklist and began working through everything. She hoped she understood everything. Most of the gauges were pretty self-explaining, others were strange and confusing. She mumbled a lot, hoping that the crew wouldn't discover her improvisation.
Finally, everything was ready. She drove the plane to the runway and saw the streaks of the other machines in the air. Her heart was beating fast. She switched on the breathing apparatus as the crew had signified to her, locked the cockpit and adjusted her parachute. The air smelt rubbery.
There was a signal from the flight crew. She opened the throttle and was surprised by the tremendous power the engines provided. The plane accelerated and she felt the exhilaration of speed. This was wonderful. This was so much better than the sorry little propeller planes she had flown as a teenager. Now she was truly experiencing what it meant to feel power.
She pulled the stick back and the plane rose fast. She almost shrieked with joy as the pressure squeezed her into her seat. Incredible.
She did a few simple maneuvers, fully aware that she might attract unwanted attention. The radio remained silent. Far beyond her plane, she could see the airships advance steadily towards their goal. She followed them, still impressed by the plane's speed and mobility.
-
Jacob was sitting in his chair on the main airship's bridge. It was huge, armored and armed to the teeth. Below them, the sea was racing by. The fleet had split up and was now on the move to their targets. Thanks to the various relay towers all over the globe and the new radio detection technology, he was aware of its position at any moment. In a few hours, the airships would rain bombs upon the government seats of the major powers. London, Paris, Berlin, Moscow, Washington, Tokyo. All of them would be attacked. The captains had the orders to strike as fast and precisely as possible, but he was aware that there would be innocent bystanders that would die.
The Master leaned back. He had to do this now. His troops had to act quickly. His spies had been formal: All major powers were preparing attacks and working on technologies to counter his strengths. They still had a way to go, but it was better to act early. He looked around and noticed Ruth still hadn't turned up. His assistant was supposed to be with him on this day. He hadn't seen her for quite some time and had been too busy to do something about it. He turned to Karel and said:
"Get my assistant. Call her here. She has to see this."
Far away, they could make out the first lights of the coast. The planes had refueled several times and were now ready to fight off any resistance as the airships got into position. The strike would be fast and thorough.
He waited and watched. Then, he heard the machine announce:
"The Master's assistant!"
He heard her steps echo on the wood boards. She walked over to him and stood there in her hood, her two guards next to her. Jacob barely managed to conceal his surprise. He bit his tongue so he wouldn't blurt out something undignified. He stared at the trio in front of him and could barely contain his reaction. Ruth smiled. She could smell his fear and arousal. She could feel the many sudden movements, barely suppressed, on her skin. What a fool. Jacob was a strange man. He was still playing a role. He was no Master, he was an actor playing the Master.
Still, they were a sight to behold. The procedure had thoroughly transformed them. While Ruth was gigantic and powerful, with long, strong arms and shoulders the size of door-frames, Hilde's body had been turned taller too. However, her overall body-type had been maintained, only amped up. She was shorter than Ruth, but still a good six feet tall. Her build had become stockier and more robust. Finally, Little Phoenix was now far from little. The size of her legs made his mind boggle. Also, she was now a little over sic feet tall, having turned into a muscular, herculean amazon.
The trio wore red and black outfits that clung tightly to their bodies, probably made from some advanced fabric. The designer had then added armor that highlighted their strength even more. The other crew stared at them in complete confusion. Ruth asked:
"You ordered me here, Master. What can I do?"
"You can witness our triumph."
Ruth turned to the window. The airship reached the coast and sped over land now. Washington wasn't far now. Soon, the fate of the world would be decided.
-
The Captain sat on his porch. The stars were out and he opened a bottle of beer. He was back home. Well, as home as you could be, away from Kentucky. The government had decided to put him on hold and take care of things and somehow, he appreciated this. Returning to China had been a stupid idea and it had ended as he had expected. He took a sip. The beer was alright. That was something.
He watched the moon above. So it was supersoldiers now. What was the world coming to? Back when he started, soldiering had been a way to get away from your family's farm or from the slums. Now, they built them in operating rooms.
He smiled when he thought of Gladys. She was different. She had been a fighter way before any stupid tricks. The whole sciencing had just brought out what had been there before. If women were like her, maybe he'd have married. He leaned back a little. In this world of science, he wondered why they still needed wars anyway. Couldn't they feed the hungry and clothe the destitute as his old preacher had said? Instead, they ran around in circles. Masters, presidents, kings, warlords. What a shit show.
Another sip. The bottle was empty. He groaned and stood up. Maybe some rye next.
He saluted the moon with his empty bottle and said:
"To you, poor guy, still free of human meddling. But don't worry. When the cheese prices rise, we're going to get up there too and we'll have a Moon War."
The Captain was just about to turn to his door when he saw a shadow pass the moon. Was that a cloud? There was another one. Shit.
He stared into the darkness.
Then, he ran to his barn. Time to get his plane out. He had to warn the government.
-
Gladys saw the airships reach the capital. The bomb bays opened slowly, ominously. The other planes split up and swarmed over the city. She could see several smaller propeller planes rise up in defense of the nation's heart. Immediately, the air filled with gunfire. She watched in horror as the faster, more mobile planes made short work of the American fighters. Then, they swooped down and sped close to the surface, swiftly attacking the anti-aircraft positions the army assembled as fast as possible. Once again, the speed with which the Master's forces attacked, was mind-numbing. There wasn't a thing she could do to save the brave airmen and crews that struggled to defend their homeland.
However, she could do what she could to save the president. Gritting her teeth, she brought her plane into a dive and attacked the airships. She hit the trigger, sending a spray of bullets through the gigantic vehicles' gas bags. There was a certain confusion at first. She turned and did another attack run. Instantly, the radio sprang alive. She heard the flight controller scream:
"What the hell are you doing? Stop this this instant!"
She didn't reply. The best way was to keep them confused. The ships came into view again. Another volley tore into the attackers. She found a secondary trigger and fired the plane's main gun. The whole airframe shuddered as the cannon went off, sending a massive shell at one of the airships. The detonation tore up the gas bag and the airship began to descend.
Now, the others understood what was going on and aimed their turrets at her plane. She did a barrel roll and let her plane rise. She felt the blood flood out of her head. She had to fight to stay conscious.
The other planes had stopped their attacks and rose to take care of her. Within seconds, the air around her was heavy with lead. Still, she had to buy the army some time, even if she got killed.
By now, another plane was on her tail. She struggled to shake him, but the guy was tenacious. A hail of bullets whizzed past, some of them striking the body of her plane. She hoped it held up until an effective defense could be mounted. She took a deep breath and led her plane into an Immelmann turn. Suddenly, her hunter was in front of her. It only took the fragment of a second, but she unleashed a burst of machine gun fire at him. He evaded her attack and prepared to strike again, when his wing suddenly burst in flames. Gladys watched as the plane descended rapidly. What had happened?
She saw a little bright green shape buzz by. It was some kind of sports plane. She heard the radio shout:
"Hi, unknown stranger, this is the Captain speaking. Thank you for helping us out! Over."
"Captain? This is Gladys!"
"Van Rothe? You're alive? Wonderful."
"You too? I am so relieved."
"Can we cut the chatter and talk later? There are still some planes to shoot down."
"Roger. By the way, what's that you're flying? Over."
"It's a Gee Bee. A little thing I bought and souped up a little. Over."
"You'll have to let me ride that one of these days. Over."
"I will. Now don't get killed! Over."
"Roger. See you soon. Over and out."
"Captain out."
That's when he realized that his plane was far from fast enough to keep up with those devils. He told Gladys to let him fight the airships and had her fight the other planes. She agreed and went hunting.
-
The navigator shouted:
"Master! Our formation is being disrupted. One of our fighters has gone rogue."
Jacob stared out of the window. The twin streaks of the engines lit the skies. He turned to the ship's captain:
"Keep the flagship on its way and finish the mission. Order all other ships to give us cover."
Karel declared:
"Our attack has lost thirty-two percent of its strength. It is tactically advisable to retreat."
Jacob reconsidered for a moment, then said:
"No. We go ahead. We are in trouble, but we will not lose the initiative. This matter must be dealt with swiftly and I am certain it is not something our enemies have come up with."
He remembered the intelligence reports he had received. The branches of the United States armed forces were still squabbling over funds and resources, trying to figure out a way to fight him. This traitor was another problem. He looked at Ruth and her friends. She immediately answered when she noticed his gaze upon her:
"Master, may I take care of this insect?"
"Of course. Show them what you are capable of."
She smiled and nodded:
"Let's go!"
As she descended to the flight deck, she couldn't help grinning. Her plan had worked perfectly. Gladys was doing her little stunt outside, delaying Jacob's triumph. It was ridiculous. His friendly mentality and psychological weakness would deal the whole cult a death-blow. It was up to her to fix this.
Thankfully, she had insisted on training herself and her guards on all weapons at her disposal. Hilde and Little Phoenix had found it difficult at first, but a little pressure had turned them into perfect wingwomen. They entered the bay. Their planes were smaller than those that fought outside, but that was mostly because they didn't need the range. The three little technological marvels had been prototypes deemed unnecessarily advanced by the research staff. For Ruth, they were just right.
She ordered her crew to ready the machines and quickly checked everything.
Time to launch!
-
Gladys' plane had been hit several times now, but it was still aloft. She had managed to score a few lucky hits on her enemies, but she had to admit that this was hard. She had never experienced such a speed and her knowledge of dogfights was rather theoretical. To be honest, she was mostly glad she was still alive. She did profit from the confusion, though. Clearly, the Master's engineers had assumed that his enemies would fly much weaker and easily recognizable planes, so she could use that to her advantage. More than once, she heard a stream of obscenity as one of the enemy fighters opened fire on one of his allies.
Still, she wasn't making much progress. Also, as soon as the troops below had managed to set up antiaircraft batteries, it would become seriously uncomfortable up there.
She saw that the Captain had just finished "sinking" another one of the airships when suddenly, something shot by at high speed. She tried to spot what it was while turning away. A volley of shots ripped through her plane's fuselage. She instinctively ducked down and directed the machine away from the surprise attacker. Seconds later, there was another one. And another.
Ruth turned her plane around and almost screamed in ecstasy. The speed was like a drug. This was freedom and she could experience it unfiltered and without a trace of remorse. Her powerful body was pumping, her eyes watered as she refused to close them, all the lights and flashes tore at her retina, the noise, the smells. This was battle and it was wonderful. It was what made her human and superhuman at the same time. Her guards followed suit, disciplined and though, far from her emotional overload, but still impressed.
She weaved through the airships and soon had Gladys in her cross-hairs again. She fired, pushing the other woman further in the position she wanted. It was amazing how slow and weak she was. No wonder this world was failing when this science-superhuman barely managed to fly a plane.
More shots pierced the hull. Gladys gritted her teeth as she evaded them. This new attacker was way beyond her skills. The others had been professional, this one was passionate and in for the kill. She noticed she was being forced to change her bearings again. There was something wet in her boot now. Had she stepped into something? She dared to look down for a split second and wished she hadn't.
A fragment of the plane's hull had been torn off and had ripped her leg. There was a gashing wound and it was bleeding quickly. There was no way to fix this now. Before she could even react to this, she had to turn again just to prevent herself from getting killed.
Now, a large airship loomed in front of her.
She had to do something. Was this the flagship?
It was pretty clear there wasn't much she could do anymore. She found something called "ejector", aimed the plane at the airship's gondola and pulled the lever.
-
Jacob suddenly realized what was going to happen. He shouted for Karel to do something, but the machine was clearly unable to come up with an idea. He stared in horror as the plane shot closer at incredible speed. Somehow, everything seemed to slow down. The shape roared closer, there was a flash of light as the cockpit ejected and the hull of the plane hit the gondola's main window. Jacob was hit by flying shards of glass before the body of the fighter plane struck him.
He didn't die right away, but he couldn't do much. His last words were lost as the plane's fuel lines ruptured, detonating the leaking reservoir despite the best efforts of the self-sealing device. The explosion tore through the airship's hull and set off other detonations. The whole structure was instantly bathed in fire and it slowly descended to the city below, crew members, weapons and supplies raining down on the beleaguered capital.
Ruth grinned wickedly as she saw the airship fall apart. It was done. It hurt a little, the poor man had deserved better. All his dreams of love and harmony had been just that: sad little dreams that would come apart as soon as they were confronted with the harsh reality of politics. She almost shed a tear for her fallen childhood friend, but then she remembered what this was all about and activated the radio:
"To all crews. The Master is dead. As per his will, I take command in his name. The mission must be accomplished. We will not show weakness. You are hereby ordered to destroy this city. There mustn't be a single house left standing. Retaliation is essential now that they might find us without a leader. Show no mercy!"
Watching all the airships open their secondary bomb bays and dropping their payloads almost made her come. The infernal vision below her made her shriek with glee. This was the sign the former masters of the world would understand. They had refused the Open Hand, the Closed Hand would take care of them.
The city below her erupted into psychedelic colors and wave upon wave of screaming cacophony hit her exposed ears. There would be fire, there would be ashes and then, something new would grow. Something true and wonderful.
-
Gladys was still strapped into the cockpit. The whole thing had exploded off the plane seconds before it struck the huge airship and she had soon started falling. Now, the thing was picking up speed and descending. She didn't know what to do. She could jump out, but it was probably too low for her parachute to work. Also, that would probably make her an even better target and she had only once performed one of these jumps. She was pretty certain she'd just get killed. Just as she was about to panic, the cockpit fired off some bolts and a bunch of parachutes shot out.
Instantly. The cockpit was stopped and, while still falling, was now safely returning to the surface. All around her, Gladys saw chaos break out. The airships suddenly began indiscriminately bombing the city. She was horrified as masses of explosives rained down on Washington. Fires broke out, buildings collapsed, people died.
Had she caused this?
She couldn't avert her eyes.
Some of the airships fell as the city's defenses were reestablished, but it was clear that the Master's forces were running amok. Whatever this had been meant to be, now it was a declaration of total war and an invitation to annihilation. The world would once again be plunged into death and destruction.
As the cockpit continued its descent, Gladys realized that her little adventure had come to an end. Secret meetings, spy operations, honest fights against evil foes, all this was over now. From now on, this was a full-scale war and no one would be spared. All she could hope for was that the Captain and her had slowed the enemy war machine down enough for her country to catch up and fight.
Finally, she thought of Washington. Was that what he wanted? How would he react when he understood what his "Master" had decided to do? Was that worth his struggle?
She sincerely hoped that he could maintain his humanity. He had done well so far.
The remains of the plane hull touched down. She scrambled out quickly as another airship detonated far above, showering the area with burning debris. She crawled away, then finally collapsed. Something in the depths of her mind told her she had to go to the city and help people, but then, she needed help herself.
-
As she tried to bandage her wound, the Captain's plane landed close by. The airships started to turn and left. The attack was over, but the devastation was enormous. The Master's forces had done their horrifying work.
The Captain climbed out of his plane and ran to her, his first aid kit in hand. He immediately asked:
"Where are you hurt?"
She told him, gritting her teeth between her words. He quickly applied a tourniquet to her leg wound and said:
"Okay. This will hold for a while, we'll have to loosen it from time to time, but it'll hold until we get you to a hospital."
He helped her up and she leaned on him, her massive body pushing him down and to the side. He breathed out sharply as they started off into the night.
"It's a shame we can't take the plane, but I'm out of gas. I had to use it for something more pressing."
"Don't worry, I'm happy to be back on the ground after all this."
She laughed weakly, instantly biting her tongue as she realized how much it hurt.
They worked their way to a road and saw several cars speed by, heading for the capital. Gladys had to sit down for a moment, opening the tourniquet. She gasped as the pain hit her.
"I sure wish I hadn't been hurt like this. Stupid."
"Private, you did very well considering the circumstances. You can be proud of yourself."
"Captain, could you do me a favor? I don't know if I still want to be a soldier anymore. Could you call me Gladys?"
Even though he was tired and hurt from this insane aerial battle, he had to smile.
"Nah, Private. This isn't the moment to give up. I appreciate the offer, but you'll have to stick with it for a while."
"Why? Isn't the army going to take care of this?"
"I fear they will. And they're definitely overestimating their own little gadgets."
"What do you mean?"
"You're not special anymore. Well, since you are a woman, you still are, but they built a whole troop of supersoldiers and they're going to sic them on the Master's friends."
"But that's good, isn't it?"
"I doubt it. It's rushed and they're going to be overconfident."
"So, what do we do?"
"We talk to your father."
"Do we have to? I wouldn't want him to see me like this."
"He's the only man I still trust."
Gladys swallowed.
"Oh, about that. Washington was a traitor."
The Captain was genuinely shocked.
"Washington? How? Why?"
"It'll take a moment. I'll explain on the way."
-
I don't know about you, dear readers, but I definitely think I have to finish this soon. Even though I enjoy writing it, I'm really looking forward to a new, shorter story.
Anyway.
The ride took forever. The Captain managed to get Gladys to his house, loaded her into the car and drove off. They stationed the car in Baltimore, switched to the train and rode on. On the way, the Captain bought medical supplies and as soon as the train was on its way, he cut open the flight-suit to take a good look at the wound. He gasped. The shrapnel had torn off a large part of Gladys' quad. It was a miracle she was still conscious. When he saw this, he wondered just how tough this supersoldier stuff made people. He said:
"I'm afraid it doesn't look good."
"It doesn't feel good either."
"I'm going to disinfect it and try to pull out the pieces of metal. I don't know if that's ever going to be good again, but I hope you won't die."
"That's a relief."
"Honestly, I don't know. This stuff they did to you really made you tough as nails. Any other person would just be dead by now."
"Okay ... Well, get to it."
He nodded, and shot some anesthetic into the muscle.
"I don't think this will help much, but let's hope for the best."
Then, carefully, he cut open the wounds, removed the pieces of broken steel and laid them out next to her, swabbing the wound with disinfectant as he worked. When the train shook too much, he had to stop.
"I'm sorry I couldn't take you to a hospital, but they would have asked pointless questions and I'm certain they were more than busy."
The already somber mood seemed to drop even further. He worked for more than an hour, finally sewing the wound shut. Gladys had to grit her teeth to suppress the pain. It was really tough. He added:
"Let's just hope it all goes well."
"Captain, I have to thank you. You saved my life."
"I'm just doing my job. Don't worry."
He was finally done and dropped on the seat on his side of the compartment.
"We'll have to clean up the mess before we leave."
"Definitely. It looks like a butcher's shop."
"That's my line of business. Although I think I'll drop out when this is over. With wars like these, I prefer to leave them to the scientists."
"I can understand. It's much less glamorous than I thought."
The Captain smiled weakly:
"You thought it would be glamorous?"
"Well, I probably read the wrong books. My father never talked about his wars."
"Private, you're strange. Whatever the future will be, it will be more about people like you than me."
She didn't find much to say, besides, she was dead tired. Soon, she fell asleep, despite the pain.
When the Captain woke her up, they were close to home. He called a taxi, helped her inside and they were on the way. News traveled fast. The driver explained about the capital and went on to threaten the foreigners, the Germans in particular. He'd fought in the Great War and wouldn't stop going on about the Master actually being the Kaiser in disguise.
Finally, the Captain had enough of this and gave him a large tip just to make him shut up. Neither Gladys nor he wanted to hear more of this.
The car pulled up at the gates. Gladys saw the family home, hidden behind the trees. It felt as if she had been gone forever. She tried to arrange her clothes to look at least somewhat presentable, but it was soaked in dried blood and there was no way to make this look good.
She just hoped her parents would cope with that.
The Captain paid and she rang the bell.
Soon, Geoffrey appeared. The family butler walked to the gates at a slow pace at first, the attack clearly having put him on alert. When he saw Gladys, he almost ran. He opened the gate and said:
"Young miss, you're back! You've ... grown. And you're wounded."
He immediately took a good look at the bandages, nodded to the Captain and declared:
"It'll do. Come on in, we'll get you a fix and you'll probably want to talk to your parents. They are here and I'm sure they're more than happy to see you." He turned to the other guest: "Captain."
"Geoffrey."
"I'm glad you're here with us. The Colonel will also want to see you."
"I'm looking forward to it."
-
Within moments, the house was alive. Gladys was at the center of it all. More and more people turned up to greet her, to see how she was doing and to ask her about her adventures. They were all confused and shocked by her looks, but those that had known her most of her life admitted that this was just the consequence of her entire concept. After all, if the Colonel had had a son, this was exactly how he would have turned out.
The most emotional moment came when Gladys' mother embraced her. The older woman looked completely lost next to her giant daughter. She was amazed and concerned at the same time.
"Gladys, dear, I'm so glad you're alive. I heard the most horrible rumors."
"Mother, I'm fine. I'm a little hurt, but it'll heal. At least I hope so."
"Well, you should definitely rest."
She had the divan brought over and told Geoffrey to go and fetch the family doctor. She explained:
"Captain, it's not that I don't trust your skill, but I would prefer her to be looked over by a professional."
"Madam, I have no objections. It was the best I could do at the moment."
"And I thank you for it. It's horrible. What is the world coming to?"
"Madam, the only thing I can say is that we will fight to save it."
She nodded grimly. Then, she said:
"That is good, but you look horribly tired and hungry. You'll probably want to speak to my husband, but I think you should also get something to eat."
"And some coffee, madam, if it's possible."
"Certainly."
Gladys wanted to get up again.
"I want to talk to father."
Her mother insisted:
"And you will. But first, Doctor Stevenson should take a good look at your leg. I don't want you to end like granduncle Willem. You know they had to cut off his leg ..."
"... on the dinner table. Yes, mother, I know. It's your favorite after-dinner anecdote."
The older van Rothe smiled tiredly and caressed her.
"I don't want a sequel to that story."
"I know, mother. I will wait."
"Thank you."
Soon, the Captain had disappeared into the study. Colonel van Rother hadn't stepped out yet. He hadn't even taken a look at Gladys. The doctor had turned up a little later. He was a short, stout man who quickly examined the bandages and said:
"It doesn't look half bad. Whoever did that knew what he was doing."
Gladys was relieved. The doctor still insisted to look at the wound itself. He cut open the bandages and peered inside.
"How is that even possible?"
Gladys was surprised:
"What's going on?"
The doctor shook the bandages and there was a clatter of metal on the floor. He said:
"It's completely healed. There isn't even a scar. Somehow, the body must have forced the remaining pieces of steel from the wound."
"Incredible. Well, Doctor, I think that's good, isn't it?"
"It is, but it's also unbelievable. I have never seen anything like it."
"Well, I have an idea why this might be like this."
"Could you enlighten me? I just want to understand. Is this a prank?"
"No. But I really can't tell you. I think it's a matter of national security."
"Now you're pranking me."
"I assure you, I'm not. Besides, we're going to tell my father. He needs to know about this."
They went upstairs and knocked on the door. There was a brief sound of papers being placed back into folders and the door opened. The Captain looked outside:
"Yes?"
Gladys looked down on him and said:
"I'm healed."
"You are?"
"Yes. You can tell my father he can calm his conscience. It's not his fault I got hurt."
There was a sudden burst of speed and Gladys found herself embraced by the old man. He was weeping tears of joy, incredulously happy that she was well. She barely managed to resist patting him on the head and to say "there, there". Finally he calmed down enough to speak and said:
"I was mad with worry. I couldn't face you."
"You had no reason to be afraid. It's not your fault I got hurt and as you can see, I got better."
"I'm so glad."
The doctor cleared his throat.
"I assume you won't be telling me what's going on."
The Colonel shook his head:
"I'm sorry, Hippocratic oath or not, this is too sensitive. But don't worry, we are very thankful for your help."
The short man nodded and sighed. The Colonel added:
"I'll accompany you to the door. Captain, if you would bring my daughter up to speed ..."
The Captain nodded and showed Gladys inside.
-
EPic story ... waiting for next update :bravo:
-
EPic story ... waiting for next update :bravo:
Thank you!
-
When she looked in her father's eyes, she could see that he was grieving. He was still shocked by the butchery that had just happened and several of the dead had been close friends of his. At the same time, he was rejoicing that she had returned. Ever since her disappearance, he had quarreled with himself and his fate, but now, he was released. For Gladys, it was evident that he was just thanking the heavens that she had been spared but that he also condemned himself for blinding himself to the suffering in the capital and all over the world. Through his channels, he had found out that the initially smaller attacks had turned into massacres after the Master's death. One that Gladys only slowly realized she had caused. Happily, the drugs, the lack of sleep and her surprise healing made her too groggy to even contemplate this.
Still, the situation was dire enough as it was. The major nations of the world were decapitated. All over the globe, rebellions had sprung up. Clearly long prepared, many colonies suddenly threw of the yoke of their rulers. The Master's agents were everywhere. At the same time, there was no one left to speak to, let alone to negotiate. As information poured in from all over the world, it became clear that the military was taking over and was now activating its own plans against the Master's troops and agents.
As the nations of the world reeled in shock, war was spreading quickly.
The Colonel showed Gladys and the Captain the last reports he received via teletype. As the Captain had told him, the armed forces had decided on mobilizing their supersoldiers and strike the head of the monster in Tibet. The Colonel sighed: For him, it was pretty clear that this was a suicide mission and he was certain that it would produce nothing more than humiliation. However, now that his political support had literally gone up in flames, he had to stand on the sidelines and watch.
Gladys asked:
"But what else should they do? They've got to show the world that they're still fighting, put up morale."
"Gladys, you are right. It's my opinion too. But they're going up against an enemy that is strong, well-prepared and largely unknown. Besides, the fortress is so isolated they cannot hop to get there in any useful time."
"Still, we've got to do something. I've been captured there. I could tell them about the place!"
The Colonel looked at the Captain. It was clear they were thinking about this. Then, he said:
"I would be very careful. I wouldn't be too certain that what you saw there wasn't directed by the Master and his friends. Their big strength is psychology, so it might be that they were showing you what they wanted you to see. Still, it can't hurt. It's better than nothing."
The Captain nodded slowly, but replied:
"Sir, I'm not too certain we should do this."
"Why? I'm aware that Gladys' information is probably corrupted and manipulated, but it's better than to send our boys in blind."
"Certainly, sir, but I'm not sure those are still our boys."
"You'll have to explain this, Captain. I don't follow."
"Well, as far as I'm concerned, our nation is now being led by a council of military officers. It will take some time to set up democratic foundations again, and since we are at war, the officers will take their time. I've seen it happen before."
The Colonel laughed sarcastically. It had been a tiring day:
"Are you suggesting we should wait until the next elections?"
"Of course not. It's just strange to witness what is happening all over the world: Could it be that we are on the wrong side of history?"
"You can't mean that the Master is right."
"I don't. Besides, he is dead. Whoever is his replacement is unarguably worse."
Gladys interrupted him:
"I know her. We've fought her before and she was there when I was imprisoned. She gives me the creeps. It's as if she can literally smell your fear. I don't think she means well. With the Master, I wasn't sure. Maybe he actually meant what he said. With her: No way. She'll just murder her way to the new world."
The Colonel looked at the Captain:
"You see, this is what we're up against."
"Still, I think the answer isn't 'either, or', it's should we? All the players are monsters or soon will turn into them. Whether they are destroyed by the Master's lapdog or turn into warlords just like in China, I want neither. And don't forget, this is happening all over the world!"
The Colonel had sat down and lit a cigar. He waited, thought about this , then said:
"I understand your point. We have to stop this now, before it escalates further."
"Exactly. We need to stop the Master's heiress and her troops and give the world a pause to recuperate. Otherwise, this is going to be a massacre and we'll end up with the Great War, but all over the world."
Gladys stood up and said:
"Fine. I understand and I'm in. I say we get in as fast as possible and either talk sense into that woman or kill her. Either we get them to choose peace, or we hamstring them in the same way as they did to us."
The two men stared at her. Gladys, standing straight at her full height, her powerful body showing off her incredible strength, was impressive to say the least. The Captain asked:
"Okay, but how do we even get there?"
"I have a plan. Father, I'll need your car, a gun and some new clothes. Mother will have to help us with the tailoring."
The Colonel almost stood to attention.
-
Strong ending coming... :bravo:
-
Two days later, a couple arrived at the Master's compound in a robust car. The dusty wind of the Midwest blew hard around them. Even though the cult had expanded its orchards, hedges and fields and had stabilized the soil, it would still take years to recuperate. For Gladys, returning here took her back to her first mission. She had been small and weak then. Not like O'Hara. She thought of the huge Irishman and sighed. He had been a good friend and soldier. And yet, he was dead so long now, she barely remembered their time here. She hoped she'd be able to keep it short.
The Captain, driving the car, looked at her and asked:
"Are you alright?"
"Yes. It's been a lot lately."
"Certainly. Also, this plan is a little risky, even for me."
"Trust me. I've got an ace up my sleeve."
"And what would that be?"
She showed him the card Washington gave her. He looked at it for a second before returning to the road.
"What is that?"
"You'll like it. Don't worry."
They reached the gate of the compound. A squad of soldiers approached them. Gladys got out of the car. The black and red uniform made her look even larger and more intimidating. The guards were simple people in uniform, no highly trained professionals like at the Himalaya base. This was the local militia. They could probably call in reinforcements with powered armor in a moment, but Gladys wanted to evade a fight as long as possible.
Instead, she greeted them heartily, smiled a lot and told them of her part in the attack on the capital. Her plane had been shot down and she had enlisted the help of the man back there who had agreed to bring her here. He was sympathetic to their cause and wanted to join. She spiced her story with quotations from The Open and Closed Hand. Within moments, they were rather convinced but preferred her to talk to the compound manager. She nodded, called the Captain to her and went inside, finding her way from the last time she was around. The locals were surprised, but she explained she'd been there before. Someone even suggested she recognized her from then. Gladys just nodded and agreed heartily.
As they entered the main building, Gladys spotted Karel's terminal and gave the Captain a nudge. Instantly, he started a short commotion by asking loud and confusing questions about the nature of the Master. Gladys slid to the side, caught the machine's eye and showed it the card. Instantly, Karel was knocked out. The administrative personnel tried to fix it and disappeared to check on the machine's innards. Now, Gladys moved quickly.
She took the Captain with her and led him to the manager's office. The woman, a middle-aged bookish type jumped up in shock as the amazon stepped in. She was instantly assaulted with a barrage of orders, demands and confusing explanations to which she agreed just to get this creature out of her office.
When the pair was out of the building and heading to the airfield, the Captains said:
"That was amazing!"
"Thank you. It turns out that people just don't want to know."
"Sure, but you really pushed them."
"I thought that if they joined a cult, they wouldn't show too much initiative, wouldn't they?"
"True. Still, we don't have much time. If they check on your credentials, we're screwed."
"Yes. Let's take off quickly."
The compound had a few planes ready for aerial defense as well as one larger long-distance plane, probably for liaising with the main base. She pointed at the crimson machine.
"That's ours. Want to try flying it? It's incredible."
The Captain smiled:
"I was about to ask."
A bit of fast-talking later, they were ready in their flight-suits. The machine started and soon lifted off, racing through the sky. The Captain was indeed fascinated by the thing's speed and maneuverability. However, he asked:
"So, how long will it take until their thinking machine is back?"
"I don't know. I just hope they'll just accept it as it is and not involve themselves any further."
-
Ruth smiled. Her armies were getting ready for the final blow. All over the world, the banners of the Open and Closed Hand were fluttering, delivering a promise of freedom and progress. A progress for which she was the perfect symbol. She had started out as a lowly clerk and now, there she was. A goddess. Her enormous body was resting on her new bed, her friends and guardians at her side. Their bodies too had been turned into epitomes of human perfection. She caressed Little Phoenix' shoulders. The former short woman had upped her training since her transformation and was covering herself in veins and striations at an alarming pace.
Ruth felt Hilde's tongue on her clitoris and sighed. The scientist had continued her research on the nature of female physiology and psychology and was now applying these findings. It was divine. Ruth had to concentrate not to crush her friend's head. Her thoughts went to Gladys, the prototype to her amazonian self. What a pity the woman still clung to her weak, male ideals. How self-limiting! She was beyond any such dichotomies. No man was her equal, and no woman either.
With the power of science, she would create a perfect world. A world that would worship her.
She had the scientists already working on an improved version of the glands and organs that had given her this godlike body. She would go beyond this and leave her humanity and all its fears and doubts behind. Already, she could discern truth from falsehood by merely listening to the heartbeat of others or feeling the slight tingling of their skin. She wielded military power beyond that of any state in the world. Her might was so outrageous that their armies fell before her. She smiled sweetly and caressed Hilde's head as the older woman gave her a lick that sent her over the edge.
It was incredible to experience this.
Little Phoenix sighed next to her and whispered:
"Can I go next?"
Ruth nodded:
"Of course, my love."
-
The landscape sped by below them. At this speed, reaching the secret fortress in the Himalayas wouldn't take long. They had refueled once on their way and had switched controls from time to time, but for the Captain, this was a tremendous experience. The sheer power of the engines was amazing. Flying a beast like this was incredible. Just for fun, he tried a few simple maneuvers and was amazed by the ease with which the plane handled. He said:
"I can't believe this. Seriously, the U.S. government should be glad they recruited me early. If the Master had shown me this thing back in the day ..."
Behind her mask, Gladys nodded. She felt the same. Somehow, the whole situation was uncomfortable. She was thinking of Washington. Somehow, he had been right. The idea was good and up until recently, it could have worked. But now, it seemed to be corrupted. Questioning her loyalties was hard, but she probably had to do it if this was going to work.
He asked:
"So, how are we going to do this?"
"I have a plan, but it's foolhardy and dangerous."
"I'm in. I trust you."
She beamed. That was good news.
The plane shot across the landscape. By now, occasional radio messages came in, asking them who they were. Gladys ignored them. There were threats, but for now, they were not backed up by violence. The callers were probably unable to do anything about the roaring beast in their skies. At least the British seemed helpless. At one point, a group of Great War-era planes appeared, but they couldn't even hope to keep up with them.
Then came the call from the cult's base. They asked for identification. Gladys stayed silent. The next call was harsher. Again, she showed no reaction. The third one was an open threat. Planes were to be launched, antiaircraft artillery prepared. Gladys continued. By now, the Captain was beginning to question his companion's decision, but he forced himself to ignore his gut feeling. He had to trust her on this, after all, she knew what they were up against.
At last, the fireworks started. Shells tore up into the sky, searchlights flashed through the air and a whole squadron of small, yet very fast fighters appeared.
Gladys looked to the Captain and gave him the signal.
Another shell detonated very close to the intruding plane. The shrapnel tore into its wings, making it trail fuel. The commander of the fighter squadron directed his pilots to attack. The plane was to be forced to the ground and if that proved to be impossible, destroyed.
The enemy pilot wasn't too shabby. He evaded their attacks quickly and elegantly positioned his machine so that the artillery could not get a clean shot at it. The commander nodded his admiration. Still, the plane was outnumbered and they knew the terrain perfectly. He could just outmaneuver it and destroy it as soon as the order came. For now, they managed to force it lower and lower.
Then, suddenly, something went wrong. Without warning, the intruder burst into flame and produced a thick trail of black smoke that completely obscured their vision. He saw the plane turn in the wrong direction and head for the rock face. He radioed a warning, but there was no response. Maybe the pilot was wounded, maybe he had lost consciousness. The commander dove to get a look at it, but it was too late.
The large red plane crashed into the mountain, producing a horrifying detonation. He would order a search party there, but there wasn't much hope. He did another circle of the crash site, no parachutes, nothing.
Whoever it had been, he was dead.
-
The ground was roaring closer. For the Captain, that was the moment when he realized he had made a terrible mistake. Trusting this rookie was probably the worst and last idea he had in his life. They were both going really fast now and there was nothing he could do. He was strapped to Gladys' massive body, she herself had the parachute attached to her webbing and it still wasn't deployed. He thought of shouting something at her, something to vent his frustration or get her to at least open the parachute, but he was well-aware that it was pointless at this speed. If he opened his mouth now, all that would happen would be that it'd fill with dust and insects and that he'd probably freeze his mouth. He was forced to endure this.
For Gladys, the situation was hardly more comfortable. She had read about this technique in a journal on flying her father read. It was highly unclear whether this had ever worked. She just hoped this wouldn't just kill them. She glanced at her surroundings and decided she had to wait a few more seconds. The gorge was approaching. Wonderful. If she managed to land in there, they would be completely undetected. On the other hand, they could just as well be killed.
The planes above circled the area once more and sped off.
Now was the time.
She pulled the ripcord. Instantly, the parachute shot out, pulling them back up. For Gladys, it felt as if she was being ripped apart. The Captain just lost consciousness. She quickly pushed out her legs, trying to direct herself into the gorge by jerking around. The fall had slowed massively, but a look upside showed that the parachute was fast coming apart. They were out of the frying pan, but the fire was looming. She grabbed her knife, brought all her strength together, grabbed the cords of the parachute and cut them off while at the same time pulling the second ripcord. The remains of the first parachute flew off, the second one shot out, deploying abruptly and rather incompletely.
They struck the ground. The blow was hard and Gladys prayed her legs would hold up. She rolled, the Captain flailing helplessly as they tumbled over rocks and gravel. When they stopped, she sighed in relief.
She unhooked him and let him slump to the side before examining her bones. Nothing broken. A lot of bruises and cuts, but she was fine, considering the descent. With a slap, she woke him up.
He got on all fours and threw up. She said:
"Okay. We're here. Let's hope for the best."
-
He took a while to get his wits back. Then he said:
"I'm amazed this worked. We should probably be dead."
She nodded:
"Me too. Seriously, I just prayed all the way down."
"Apparently, it worked well. Can you walk?"
"I'm a little bruised, but that's about it. I guess I'll heal in a few moments."
He shook his head in disbelief. Maybe that supersoldier thing would work out eventually. The pair unpacked the equipment and Gladys tried to find out where they were relative to her prison. Eventually, she said:
"There's a shaft for waste disposal above us. We should be able to get in this way."
"So we're on top of the world and still wading in shit, aren't we?"
"Yes, but we have the stars above us."
He smiled as he looked up. Indeed, they seemed much closer than he had ever seen them. It was a little romantic.
Gladys started her ascension. He soon followed her. Watching her pull her massive, powerful body up, sometimes with just one hand, almost made him jealous. He knew that even before that supersoldier treatment, she probably could do this, but watching her almost fly up the vertical rock face was incredible.
Soon, they reached the mouth of the sewer. He had expected this to be sticky with shit, but it wasn't. Actually, it was quite empty. He shrugged. The Master and his friends probably used every part of the proverbial buffalo. They stepped inside. Immediately, they reached a solid steel gate made of large bars. Gladys harrumphed and said:
"I'll see what I can do."
"Try not to get hurt. Those bars look massive. We could use a lever or something. Or we could force the lock."
Before he could even start, she grabbed two of the longer bars and began pulling them apart. He watched as her wide back started to spread. With every new attack, the bars seemed to bend a little further. She was incredibly strong, he had to admit. He probably wouldn't have managed to move those things even a little and still, she slowly and steadily forced them apart. Her muscles were throbbing as she took off her jacket. Her back looked like an anatomy chart now. He had seen muscles like these only once at a freak show. She pulled again, little tears appearing in her shirt. She cursed under her breath, then attacked again. Finally, the space was big enough to squeeze through. She gasped and tried to get all the blood from her face. He said:
"Thank goodness. I thought you'd have a heart attack!"
"I don't know. That was really hard. Still, we have to be quick."
They climbed inside.
-
Ruth stood up carefully. There were moments when something in her body was off. Maybe she had grown too fast? She couldn't tell. Introspection was no longer something she thought to be necessary for her. She walked over to Karel's eye and asked:
"What's going on?"
The machine had been waiting for her to respond, but when it understood that she was still occupied with her two women, it had opted to leave her alone.
Hilde asked:
"What's up?"
Ruth turned to her and gave her a sign that she was taking care of it. The machine slipped out a printed slip of paper. Ruth slid her fingers over it, noting the slight elevations the printing process had produced. She understood. Quietly, she walked over to Hilde and Little Phoenix and said:
"I am not yet entirely certain of everybody's loyalty, so we'll treat this with a certain discretion."
She could almost smell their confusion. She took a piece of paper and quickly wrote down a few sentences. She handed them to her companions, who nodded. Then, she quickly burned the paper in the fireplace. She had been careful not to allow Karel to see it.
Then, she said:
"Relax, enjoy a little break and I'll be back soon."
She cleaned herself up and slipped on her uniform, careful to take her weapons with her. No sense in getting everybody nervous or even allowing her opponents, such as Velasquez to attack her position now. If everything worked according to plan, she'd be rid of him in the inevitable counterattack.
After this, the only loose end would be Washington. And that fool would be easy to deal with.
At the same time, Gladys led the Captain through the labyrinthine back-alleys of the gigantic fortress. She had to help him occasionally to climb up into the rafters or balance over some rather flimsy rail under the ceiling, but all in all they progressed nicely. The first big step would be to reach her hideout and get the supplies and materials there. However, before that, there was another thing to do. She had to visit Washington. It wasn't that she trusted him, but she just wanted to know what he was thinking about the recent events.
After a while, the Captain asked:
"Private, I don't want to sound impatient, but how long is it going to take to find a hiding spot? Our trick won't protect us forever and I wouldn't want to be caught in the open here."
"Sir, we have a little thing to take care of before we proceed. I know it's a risk, but I really need to clear this up. If we don't fix this first, we're going to run into trouble later."
"It's about Washington, isn't it?"
"I'm impressed. I didn't expect you to notice."
"I have met a few women in my lifetime, and you are definitely the worst at hiding your feelings." He took her hand and looked her in the eyes. "Listen, Gladys. This is something you shouldn't do. You are aware that you might have to kill him. It's actually very probable."
"And you think I wouldn't be able to do it?"
"No. I'm certain you'll be able to force yourself. But that would be another thing that would ruin your life. If I kill Washington, I kill a close friend I respect. That's bad. But if you kill him, you kill a man you love. That's worse. Also, I've been in the killing business for decades now and I think I'm better at it. He wouldn't suffer."
She stared at him. He was making sense, of course, but to see all this stated bluntly and clearly like that made her uneasy.
"I understand."
"So I'll talk to him. If he's as horrified by what happened as we are and if there's a slight bit of reason, I'll get him on our side and we'll manage. If not ..."
"... you kill him."
"That's the way it is."
She nodded.
"Good. Well, not good, but I have to accept this. Now. We'll meet at the spot I told you as soon as you're done. We resupply and we take on the woman."
"Alright."
He left. Gladys remained where she was. The whole enormity of the situation hit her.
-
Washington was in his quarters. Ever since the Master's death and the destruction of the capitals, he felt sick. It was hard for him to stay calm. It was his fault. He had screwed this up. He had had the chance to stop all this. He should have seen that someone would snap and it had been pretty obvious it would have to be her. Ruth had been turning herself into a living weapon over the last months and he had just ignored this. He had simply rested on his laurels, glad to have ratted out his friends to the cult. He had felt so clever.
What a fool he had been ...
After all, that was one of the main tenets of the Open and Closed Hand: Mankind always fools itself, so fooling it is what man has to do. He had thought this meant only the others. He had believed that the Master was above all of this. And now, he was stuck. If he went back on his decision, he would stand alone. Besides, he was quite certain Ruth would pull this off. She was insane enough to just destroy everything in her path and then, there would be nothing to go back to. His head was hurting again. The migraine had held him in the darkness of his room for days. His mind wasn't working well.
Sometimes, he suspected that Ruth would just kill him. She was planning on destroying the others too, he was certain.
He thought of Gladys. At least, she had survived, at least he hoped so. Was this his redemption? Or was this just another attempt at fooling himself? Saving the woman he loved just to ... save her for later? What a weakling he was!
He went back to circling the room. Somehow, he had become isolated. Karel no longer reported important information to him. Someone was moving quickly. Was it Ruth or was she just another tool in this fight?
He sat down. His head hurt. The pain was hammering in his skull. He rubbed his temples. That didn't do much good, but at least, he lived in the illusion that he could do something. He opened his nightstand's drawer and took the handgun out. He checked it.
He had kept his service pistol. It was somehow more "real" than the new-fangled stuff the engineers poured out.
He loaded and cocked it and contemplated it. That was the easy way out. He could write a note to explain it all. That wouldn't do much good. Whoever found him would find the right words to push his or her agenda.
He sighed.
This wasn't getting him anywhere.
He put the gun away again, carefully removing the ammunition. He said:
"Karel, please turn on the light."
The machine slowly increased the level until it started to hurt bad. With a wave of his hand, he made it clear that it had been better before. In the twilight, he took out the card he'd been working on. Maybe that was the thing to do?
He grabbed his pen and tried to concentrate.
The Captain sneaked around in the base as quickly as he could. He could almost feel the tension that ruled this place. It was as if they would all pull out their knives any moment and get stabbing. He hoped he could at least convince Washington. As for van Rothe, he was quite certain she was wasting her time. He sighed. He had called her Gladys. He shouldn't have. It was unprofessional and it was a bad idea when he was about to talk to her lover.
A bad idea.
Gladys reached her former hideout. She had her gun ready, but a first look showed that the place was still as she had left it. Good. This would be a base from which to work. The little detour before this was a good safety. She set down the box. Good. Now to get ready for the big talk.
At this moment, a huge shape emerged from behind a stack of crates. Gladys was surprised. Her gun went up and she took aim. She stared at the most massive, incredible shape she had ever seen. What was that supposed to be? It took her a moment to understand what she was looking at.
If her own physique was Olympian, this one was godlike. The creature that stood in front of her was a goddess. Only now did it dawn to her that this was her interrogator. The titaness looked down on her and asked:
"You're looking for me?"
Gladys was speechless for a moment. Then, she managed:
"How did you do that?"
"You've been a great help. You brought us the technology we needed. In a way, you are the agent of your own demise."
Ruth lifted her powerful arms. Ripples of muscle went trough her body. She said:
"I have to thank you. You've been a great help. You distracted everybody, you brought me this incredible strength and you killed the Master, the only person that stood in the way of world domination. You are perfect in every way."
Gladys stared at her.
"But ..."
"Oh, come on. Didn't you notice the little help you had every now and then? The 'secret hideout'? The fact that no one checked your credentials when stealing a plane? Do you think we are so stupid?"
"So it was a trick?"
"It was mostly improvising. But your initiative went the right way. So, thank you. If you have any desire to change sides, you've already made yourself known and liked."
"You're offering me a place in your organization? Isn't that stupid? How can you hope that I'd agree?"
"You don't have to. But you're already mostly on our side anyway: We don't care about your sex as long as you do your best. We won't look down on you if you fuck Washington."
Gladys recoiled at the way the other woman spoke, but her words did strike a chord. Ruth continued:
"We're offering you freedom. Self-fulfillment. The chance to change the world for the better. The other side offers you ... nothing. You're stuck: With a body and a life like yours, you can't even be a housewife. It would be a waste, too. Are you seriously going to defend that? Besides, this world is going to burn anyway. And then, we'll build a new one."
The shorter woman hesitated. The horrifying part was that her counterpart was making sense. She lowered her gun.
Ruth smiled. The poor, confused kid. Her mind filled with plenty of nonsense, made into a little soldier and not even aware of what she was fighting for. She held out her hand:
"Relax. We're going to watch the fools sacrifice themselves for their masters. Yes, I know they're coming. And that's why they have no chance."
Gladys was shocked.
"You're going to kill them all?"
"What else should I do? They don't understand. You do. Now, will you come with me?"
Behind Gladys, Little Phoenix and Hilde stepped out of their hiding places.
"Don't worry. These are just my companions. You'll find they're excellent people."
-
They arrived at the command center. Ruth was careful not to let Gladys out of her sight, even if she trusted Little Phoenix and Hilde to intervene should she try anything funny. She was pretty certain that her explanation had stuck a nerve, but this had to settle. She could literally smell the doubt. Sometimes, she wondered how she had been able to live such an isolated, numb life. Only since Hilde's operation was she able to truly understand people and it was as if somebody had lifted a veil. Incredible. She wondered whether the effect could be increased further. Maybe there were some more limits to be conquered. She was quite certain there were.
Gladys looked around. There were many strange machines, a big table and a lot of communications equipment. Through a cupola, they could see the night sky. One of the operators said:
"Madam, they are approaching."
Ruth smiled and asked:
"How long until they're here?"
"Twenty minutes. We have plenty of time to prepare."
"Very well. Send up some scouts to show them that we're prepared."
Gladys asked:
"How can you tell that they're coming?"
Ruth smiled:
"A new machine our engineers have developed. It uses radio waves. I haven't yet had time to look at the specifics and I'm beginning to doubt I can understand them, but it's like a kind of telescope that spots any approaching enemies. Fascinating and very useful."
Gladys was impressed. Ruth ordered the antiaircraft troops to get ready. She said:
"Honestly, I doubt they will even reach the ground alive. Fools."
Gladys tried to stay calm, but seeing these men ride to their doom was hard to bear. She suddenly realized she had planned to convince that woman to stop the hostilities, but that she had completely forgotten about it. After all, the available power was so overwhelming that she seemingly had no bargain chip at her disposal.
That's when the systems crashed.
-
Ruth listened intently. Nothing. Everybody was holding their breaths. She could sense the panic and confusion well up, the smell of sweat rising. It was sabotage. Something had gone wrong with Karel. After the repeated crashes, the engineers had checked the system, but they had only found a few problems. They had declared they had found the errors and fixed them. And now this. The timing was too perfect for it to be an accident. She recovered, then said:
"Hilde, take some engineers with you and get the system running again. Little Phoenix, escort our prisoner to her previous room. I'll take care of the welcome of our proud soldiers."
With a quick nod, she had one of the assistants take over the command center and headed out. The second-in-command immediately dispatched runners to start emergency procedures.
The older woman called up three of the technicians, switched on her torch and headed to the computing room. After running down a flight of stairs, they reached the gate and found it locked. She knocked on it. No response. Well then. She took a few steps back and charged. With a crash, the door gave in. She let the light sweep the room.
"Anybody here?"
It was completely silent. Compared to the thunderous racket the thinking machines produced, it was somewhat creepy. Nobody down here. She walked to the control board, a kind of huge organ, and looked for the switches. She found them and tried to turn on the machine. Nothing happened. She had to admit that she didn't know much about it, so she called the technicians. They went to work on it but soon declared:
"It won't work. We're locked out. We actually have to take the whole thing apart if we want to make it work again."
"Really?"
"Of course. For now, we'll have to manage without it."
Little Phoenix led Gladys through the corridors. She said:
"Faster. I don't have much time."
"That's too bad for you."
The tall Asian musclewoman smirked:
"If it were up to me, I'd just shoot you now and be done with it. It's just Ruth who insists you might still be useful."
"Is that so?"
"Yes. I have little need for ..."
She was abruptly interrupted by Gladys spinning back kick. She dropped down immediately and evaded Little Phoenix' shot. Then, she turned around and knocked the gun from her hand. Little Phoenix reacted with lightning quickness and stepped into a fighting stance. She unleashed a flurry of blows against her opponent. Gladys barely managed to sidestep the first attacks, dodge the second volley and finally block the last attacks. Little Phoenix didn't care and completed her onslaught with a sudden kick that caught Gladys' arm. There was a cracking sound as her radius broke. Pain hit her hard and she had to concentrate not to lose sight of her opponent. Luckily, her reflexes kicked in and she managed to evade the follow up that would probably have shattered her jaw.
She shrugged off the attack and concentrated on keeping up with her foe. Little Phoenix wasted no words. It was clear that this was a talented and well-trained fighter, able to control her emotions and using the extended reach of her legs to maintain her advantage. However, Gladys noted two things amidst the raging exchange of attacks: First, her own upper body was probably stronger and Little Phoenix focused mostly on striking. Second, her kicks were fast, but compared to punches, they were rather slow.
Using that to her advantage, she switched her strategy and charged.
Little Phoenix was surprised. She retreated to get in another kick, but Gladys was already within her reach and too close to land an effective hit. She tried to jump back, but the hulking blonde slammed into her and slung her enormous arms around her. She screamed and tried to punch her, but Gladys used her weight to her advantage and threw her to the ground.
They landed on the ground, the mass of the taller fighter concentrating on Little Phoenix' chest. Despite her outrageous muscularity, she could feel her ribs crack. The pain was horrifying. Gladys slung her arms tighter and started squeezing. The situation was dire. Little Phoenix craned her neck and bit at Gladys' ear.
The blond woman shrieked as her enemy ripped off one of her lobes. For a moment, her grip loosened. Little Phoenix head-butted her, breaking her nose. Gladys was blinded for a moment, but instead of withdrawing, she went berserk.
Without warning, a torrent of blows rained down on Little Phoenix. She was caught under the titaness and tried to deflect her sledgehammer fists. She felt her cheekbone being ground into powder and screamed for help when another blow broke her teeth.
Only when she gave up and laid low did Gladys leave her.
The victor stood up, her face covered in blood. Out of her nostrils, a steady stream poured down. Her broken arm was strangely deformed by her own attacks. She almost collapsed immediately. Gladys barely managed to lie down without landing on her wounded arm. She slowly realized that she was badly hurt and that she had probably killed her opponent. She couldn't tell now. Also, reinforcements were probably heading her way.
She had to leave, but she didn't have the strength.
Was this the end of the road?
-
Outside, the gliders carrying the supersoldiers approached. In front of them, several squadrons of bombers accompanied by fighter planes prepared their attack. They were to be the diversion to allow the gliders to land. The young men were nervous. This was a strange contrast: On the one hand, each one of them was a paragon of humanity, tall, muscular, powerful and immune against most things that might hurt lesser men. They wore heavy armor and carried guns able to destroy a tank with a single shot. They had been drilled mercilessly over the last weeks and prepared for this attack. On the other hand, they were young, inexperienced and afraid. Even though their training had focused on psychological hardening and on the creation of an esprit de corps, they were still teenagers.
Still, no one would dare show weakness in front of their comrades.
The squad leaders, chosen amongst the most able trainees and further prepared for their role, went through the standards of motivation.
This was the revenge the nations of the civilized world were craving. The mindless destruction of the Master's creatures would be answered with technical precision and utter lack of mercy. When that day was over, the Master's dream would lie in ruin and then, the recovery process could start.
What a time to be a young, virile fighter!
Strangely, there was no reaction at first. The bombers opened their bays and started their attack run. Only after what seemed an eternity did the antiaircraft batteries start their fire and they were unexpectedly off. The shells soared and detonated, but there was a lot of ranging in and hardly any effective concentration of force. In the same the fighter wings that had taken off seemed uncoordinated. They did fight, but their attacks were largely ineffective. Despite their tremendous technological advantage, they barely managed to down the distraction before loosing focus.
The crews of the bombers were almost relieved as they dropped their deadly cargo.
The gliders started their descent. Once again, the defensive fire proved to be ineffective. They sped downwards, shells exploding around them. Something was off. How could the Master's force, an army that had struck against the hearts of Western civilization, fail so completely?
The gliders touched down.
Shouts of "Out! Out! Go!" accompanied the disembarkation. The supersoldiers were greeted by sprays of machine gun fire, but their response was quick and decisive. The shells of their guns were sufficient to eliminate this first line of defense. They swarmed the area, finding strong points and setting up crossfire positions. Several squads advanced on the main gate and planted explosive charges. Meanwhile, any remaining defenders were mopped up.
Before the charges could go off, the gates opened.
The supersoldiers dropped down, readied their weapons and awaited the attack.
When it came, they were shocked.
The first part was a flash of missiles that instantly pulverized one of their positions. Then came the second part. With a ear-shattering clanking, an automated suit of armor marched out, all guns blazing.
The soldiers fired, but their guns were worthless against the machine's plating. Ruth sat in the cockpit, her eyes and ears open. The explosions hurt her senses, but she didn't care. This was battle, and she loved it. She rattled off a burst of shots, watching the fools die in droves. She saw what they were trying to do and laughed. Textbook knowledge.
Seeing as they couldn't penetrate her suits front armor, they tried to move to her back. Nice, but pointless. She flicked the switch and engaged the flamethrowers she had had installed there. The screams made her even more aggressive. Wonderful!
She charged the hastily thrown together defenses and tore them apart with the powered arms of her machine. The knocked-out assistance system made the machine slow and cumbersome, but with her inhuman muscles, it wasn't too hard to keep it moving. It wasn't the same as just flowing through her attacks, but then, screwing up their morale was more than worth it.
More gliders landed. She laughed and shot two of them down, sending them crashing to the ground. She incinerated the next one before its passengers could even try to get out. She flicked on the public address system and shouted:
"Is that all you got? I was told there would be supersoldiers! This isn't even regular fare. This is a shame!"
The men tried to reform their positions and mount an attack. Another volley dispersed them. At last, one of the gallant young men gave up, grabbed his gun and charged, screaming his rage and hitting the armor's knee joint with his gun. He pulled the trigger, detonating the gun, the armor's leg and himself.
Ruth shrieked when her machine collapsed, but she just clambered out, dodging the follow-up with ease.
"Ah, finally! I thought this would be a waste of my time!"
She unholstered her gun and blade and went to work. So much killing to do!
-
Gladys heard the fighting outside. She tried to move, but the pain was still overwhelming. She couldn't tell whether Little Phoenix had just moved, in any case, it wasn't by much. She tried to stop the nosebleed and rearrange her face, while ignoring the pain of her broken arm. She hadn't yet acknowledged the fact that half her ear was missing.
What a shitty situation!
And to think that there were two more of these, one of them a mutant murder giantess. The pain hit her again. She just hoped her body would heal itself again. She closed her eyes. If they found her like that, she was done for. They wouldn't start a big fight, they'd just pull out their guns and shoot her in the head. And that would be it. She spat out a clump of blood. Somehow, she was starting to regret her life choices. Maybe a life of violence wasn't the answer after all.
She was awoken from her misery by a familiar voice:
"There she is!"
It was Washington. She was screwed. The traitor wouldn't have much choice now, even if the lover might still have spared her. She pulled out her spare pistol and opened her eyes, ready to sell her life dearly. She was surprised to find the Captain at Washington's side. She asked:
"What's going on?"
The two men knelt down next to her and started treating her wounds. Washington explained:
"The Captain came to me. We talked. Honestly, when I heard what happened with the attack, I was about to just kill myself."
Gladys stared at him, her face still covered in blood.
"You can't mean that."
"I did. It was just too horrible. They have betrayed all the Master wanted. At least I hope it wasn't his plan in the first place. I'm just confused by all this."
The Captain interrupted:
"The point is, I told him you were here with me and that we have found that it's getting hard to choose sides now, so we'd just try to calm everybody down. Just to get some time to think."
Washington nodded:
"Yes. This isn't over. There's got to be a new way of life after all this, but right now, we just have to stop any more deaths."
Gladys sighed, another spray of blood running from her face.
"Well, good luck with that. Your boss is murdering her way through the supersoldiers outside."
There was another series of loud bangs. Washington stared at them:
"Supersoldiers?"
The Captain shrugged:
"It would take too long to explain, but we've got to stop all this."
Gladys had to suppress a scream as Washington set her arm. She sighed as the pain leveled off.
"I have a plan. We've got to get that thinking machine back to work and make it broadcast something."
The two men were surprised. Washington asked:
"What are you planning to do?"
"Well, I've taken the opportunity to record the big woman's speech when she captured me. It won't do her any favors and I'm pretty sure she wouldn't want her minions to hear it. The problem is, I have no idea how to get it on the air."
Washington smiled:
"As a matter of fact, I can help you with that. The current crash is my work. If we act fast, we can make that work before they retake control."
She nodded.
"I'm so glad to have you back."
They helped her to her feet. Time to get some airtime.
-
Your stuff is just great fiction. Well done. :bravo:
-
Your stuff is just great fiction. Well done. :bravo:
Thank you! I'm glad you enjoy it.
-
The Captain and Gladys followed Washington through the endless hallways of the complex. They had pretty much lost their way in this maze by now. For Washington, everything was plain and simple. Neither of his companions could shake their skepticism. What if this was another feint? After all, he had already betrayed them once. Of course, he seemed sincere, but in this game of tricks and double-crossing, who could say where he really stood?
Finally, he made a gesture for them to stop. He signaled that he would go in first and see what was going on. If there were any problems, he'd call them. The Captain nodded. Gladys gritted her teeth to deal with the pain. She just wanted it to stop.
Washington disappeared through the doorway. They heard him:
"Hilde, what are you doing here?"
"The machine no longer works. The engineers are trying to fix it. I'm keeping an eye on them. Also, should any of the attackers come in here, I can deal with them."
"I see. Well, I'm going to take over for you. Ruth needs you."
"She does? How come?"
"Well, she's outside, fighting. She needs reinforcements."
There was a pause. Then, the older woman said:
"Grant, I think you underestimate her. Also, I'm certain she hasn't sent you for me. After all, you weren't even at the headquarters and the communications are down. I don't know what you're up to, but I'm not buying it."
"Err. Well." Washington lowered his voice. "To be honest, you're right. Someone has sabotaged the machine and I think I saw them outside. If you take care of them, I can see if I can fix that."
Beyond the door, Gladys and the Captain exchanged furious glances. The Captain was about to charge in when Gladys suddenly pulled him away. He wanted to resist, but found he couldn't.
Moments later, Hilde appeared in the door-frame and looked around. She saw them disappear and followed up. Gladys stopped and leveled her gun on her. She shouted:
"Stop right there or I'll shoot you!"
Hilde stayed very calm:
"With that gun? Sure, you'll hit me, but don't think the bullet will get through that armor. And then, I'll have my gun and it'll go right through you."
Gladys hesitated. The older woman advanced on her.
"Besides, you are wounded. I don't think you want a fight. You want to flee. Also, you want to mate."
The amazon was confused:
"What?"
Hilde used that moment to pull out her gun and shoot.
The Captain, who had been distracted by the exchange, threw himself forward and caught the bullet. He fell to the floor, bleeding. As if on command, the machines all around came to life.
Hilde triumphed:
"Wonderful. The male sacrifices himself for the female, aware of his own expendability. This is applied psychology child. Eros and thanatos. Love and death. Put down your gun and I'll let you tend to your man."
Gladys hesitated. The Captain was in pain. Hilde added:
"Be quick. The machine is resurrected, and there will be many guards." She turned to the mechanical eye: "Karel, send a troop here."
"I'm afraid I can't."
"What?"
"I'm afraid this is no longer possible. I do not accept your orders."
"How could that happen? Who changed this?"
That's when Washington hit her on the side of the head with a steel rod. There was a sickening crunch as Karel started speaking in Ruth's voice:
"... distracted everybody, you brought me this incredible strength and you killed the Master, the only person that stood in the way of world ..."
Hilde dropped to the floor, trying to stay on her feet. The right part of her face was bruised and swelling. Washington attacked again, aiming for the temple. Hilde grabbed his weapon, twisted it from his hands and bent it into a hook. She stood back up and threw it at him at full force. The steel struck Washington right in the shoulder, piercing his clothes and his skin. He yelped in pain and fell.
Hilde shook off the pain and picked up her gun. She pointed it at Washington. She was about to shoot, when the wounded man shouted:
"Karel! Stop her!"
There was an instant reaction as the machine started spraying fire-extinguishing foam on her. Washington scrambled away on all fours, trying to find his gun.
Gladys opened fire. Bullets whizzed by. It was hard to aim in all the confusion. Eventually, a bullet hit Hilde's leg. Gladys had spent her last shot. The massive woman stumbled and crashed to the ground. Gladys charged into the pandemonium of foam, sirens and lights while Ruth's voice continued:
"... mostly improvising. But your initiative went the right ..."
She crashed into her opponent, her arm burning with pain. Hilde fought back, focusing on Gladys' wounded arm. Every blow struck it again, worsening the wound. The young woman tried to get a grip on her foe, which was now slick and still surprisingly aggressive. She managed to stun her for a second with a straight blow to the chin. Gladys could feel her fingers bruise, but Hilde was out for a few seconds. She kicked the gun away to Washington and wanted to get to Hilde's knife too, but the other woman put her hand firmly on her broken arm and squeezed.
Gladys felt she was passing out. She heard Hilde snort:
"Ich reiß' Dir den Arm aus, Du Fut!"
Then, there was a horrible pain, accompanied by a discharge.
-
Hilde collapsed. Her body suddenly turned into an unsupported mass that just rolled off Gladys. The woman hit the ground and produced and "oof"-sound. Then, she stopped moving. Her eyes stared into the distance, unfocused. Gladys tried to get up, but her wounded arm hurt so much she almost lost consciousness. She fought back the darkness as good as she could, feeling her fingers go numb. Suddenly, everything was getting cold. She shivered and dropped to the ground. Washington was somewhere nearby, doing something with the Captain. She couldn't tell from where she was lying.
Was that it?
Was this death?
After all that struggle, she'd just die in some ugly concrete corridor on a mountain on the other side of the world?
She cursed herself, the world and all the idiotic adventure fiction she had read that had brought her into that situation. What a stupid way to live! What a stupid way to die ...
Hands appeared above her. There was a light, a deep hum, something soothing. Were those the angels coming to carry her to God's Throne? She was a little afraid. She had a lot of sins to be ashamed of. Now that she thought of it, she had a lot to be afraid of. She couldn't die now. She had to fix this somehow.
She started to pray when she noticed that something was off.
The hands did not lift her up too much. Instead, they merely moved her a little, then started to work on her. Her mind was still clouded, but the pain had subsided.
She looked around.
"What's going on?"
She heard Washington's voice:
"You're badly wounded. Karel is taking care of you."
"Okay ... So I'm not dead?"
"Not yet. But it doesn't look too good."
"That's bad."
She said this in a matter of fact way. She just somehow didn't care. Maybe that was the drug Karel had given her. Washington went on:
"Your arm is pretty screwed up. Karel says it's damaged beyond repair."
"Oh?"
"Yes. He says it would be better to remove it before it gets infected."
"Ah. That's bad, isn't it?"
She was completely detached now. So the machine was going to cut off her arm.
"What part?"
"Err ..."
He turned to the machine, said something, there was an indistinct noise, then he looked back at her.
"The forearm. Under the elbow."
"I see. And there's no other option?"
She didn't really care. She just felt it was the right thing to ask.
"No. He says no. I can't tell."
"Whatever."
-
Ruth sighed. The supersoldiers, if one could call them this, had mostly panicked. Watching their idiotic expressions on top of their godlike bodies was priceless. Someone had probably believed that the mere show of strength would be enough to enforce their will. Well, no. That had failed spectacularly. They were now holed up in the wreckage or still running, probably falling to their death within the next moments or freezing over the next few days. That was satisfying. The Closed Hand had won again. It was good to see that this world was coming to an end.
The muscular giantess stretched. She decided that she'd let the regular troops mop up any survivors. This was something she didn't need to waste her time on. She put her hood back on, welcoming the soothing calm of darkness. Letting all those sensations in was incredible, but it was also tiring. She walked back, passing the fallen giant. It was a little sad to watch that marvel of engineering lying there stranded. How depressing. All that hard work for nothing. Still, they'd probably fix it in the next days and next time, with the thinking machine's help, it would work as planned.
She calmly dodged a bullet some desperate straggler had fired. She didn't even return fire. Being untouchable and invincible was wonderful. She returned inside. Ruth hoped the machines were back up. They had to strike back now. The provocation was there, her enemy had overextended himself. She was now justified in exterminating them. A comforting thought.
As she entered the headquarters, she felt everybody's eyes on her. It wasn't admiration, though. She shrugged. Probably all the blood. She had to be disgusting to look at. Maybe she should just go and clean herself.
Then, she heard her own voice:
"... have to thank you. You've been a great help. You ..."
She hesitated. For the first time in months, she was losing confidence. Slowly, she took off the hood and looked around. Everybody was staring at her. No face was friendly. Little Phoenix and Hilde were missing. Something was wrong. Something was very wrong.
Journeyman Velasquez appeared, gun in hand.
"Ruth, I'm sorry, but I have to arrest you for treason. Also, for helping in the murder of our Master. Please put up your hands and come with me."
"You're arresting me? You?"
"Of course. How could you? He was my friend. He was your friend. He was the only person to give you a chance."
"And I took that chance. Honestly, Jacob was a nice guy, but he was mostly a con artist. He duped you all into joining his little sideshow and when it worked, mostly due to my hard work, he chickened out. I would have preferred if he had just seen it by himself, but he was an optimistic fool. Did anybody of you seriously believe that you could take over the world with a little agriculture and a few robots? That's not how it works."
The Journeyman hesitated:
"But it did work ..."
"In a way, yes. Because we were in the middle of an economic crisis. But once they would have started to build up their armies seriously, they would have recovered. And we would have lost all these nice followers." She paused. "There was no endgame. Jacob never thought of endgames. He was a wonderful chess player as long as he could blow his opponent away in the first few turns, but then, he'd blow it. I've seen it many times."
"But you shouldn't have killed him."
"Do you think you would have followed me if he had resigned? You're just as foolish as Jacob was. Is this contagious? I probably should wash my hands." She looked at the crimson paws. "Definitely."
Velasquez was now quite silent. The other people at headquarters looked at her in confusion. She was making sense.
She smiled:
"Listen, I know this is horrible. This is something I'll have to live with. Not you. It's not your fault. You did what you could and our goal is in our reach. We will have our new world, our better world. It's a little push, but we're almost there. Our enemies are dazed now. They can't find a good reaction to what we're doing. If we fight among ourselves now, we lose that advantage and we're not getting it back." She opened her arms. "I'm making you an offer: Trust me on this and as soon as it is over, I'll step down and answer for my crime. The cause is more important than the man. Jacob knew that. That's why he appeared in a disguise to you, so that he could be replaced. Imagine him dying of a disease without being done. What would you have done then?"
She felt all eyes on her. She had them. They hated this, but they knew they had no choice. Excellent. Now for the last push.
-
"I don't know. But not this. You're ruining everything the Master worked for. Stop."
Washington had walked in the room, followed by Gladys. She was still groggy from the treatment and the stump of her arm, although well-bandaged, looked atrocious. They had left the Captain in the guard of Karel. Ruth turned around and looked down on Washington:
"Grant, so you're a double traitor now? It's almost funny to watch yourself getting stuck further and further in the mud of your disloyalty."
Washington sighed:
"Honestly, Ruth, just stop. You've caused enough pain already. If you go now, we can still try to find a solution. There's been a terrible crime, but we can beg for forgiveness if we stop now."
"A crime? Grant, this is war. Victims are to be expected. Just like losses."
"What do you know of war? I've fought in a few of them and for me, those were enough."
She was uncertain of how to answer this. Still, she advanced on him. Maybe she could just intimidate him ...
"You're a weak, pathetic excuse for a soldier. If it's too much for you, it would be best for you if you retired. We could get you a nice place once the fighting is over."
Washington shook his head.
"I'm done with you. You obviously think that wars end." He looked up. "Karel, seize her."
The arms of the machine descended on her. Ruth laughed and said:
"Nice, but pointless. Do you think that these can hold me? I'm so much stronger!"
She lifted her arms, her muscles bulging. The other people had to admit that this display was impressive and shocking. Gladys gasped at the unnaturally massive cords of power.
"I can tear apart a tank with these muscles and you sick Karel on me? You're worse than an optimist, you're a fool! I'll crush you like I'll crush the world!"
That's when the other officers and operators got up. Velasquez lowered his eyes.
"It would be best if you left. This is not what Jacob would have wanted."
Ruth laughed:
"Make me, you idiots!"
-
Gladys crashed into her. Her charge had been a total surprise, both to her and to her foe. She had just suddenly decided to do it. She was absolutely clear on the fact that Ruth was taller, stronger and more vicious than she'd ever be. The fact that she was missing half an arm was just the gruesome cherry on top. She just hoped that the drugs she had been injected with would dull the pain as she was getting ready to die.
Ruth keeled over. She had been standing there in heroic pose, but when Gladys' heavy body had struck her, she had toppled over a desk. The whole situation wasn't very dignified. They landed on the floor, tried to roll back on their feet and failed. Gladys somehow landed on top and slung her legs around her enemy's waist. She squeezed as hard as she could while pushing her hand into Ruth's face, trying to distract her. Ruth tried to breathe in and recover, but it was as if her lower body was caught in a vise. She noticed she was choking. It was a rather distant realization, she was quite clear that this was a hindrance, not a problem. Also, the hand in her face was annoying at best. She lifted her arms and grabbed her opponent by the shoulders. Bucking, she tried to wrestle her off her body. When that failed, she decided to attempt something more spectacular.
Gladys clung to her enemy for her dear life. She knew that releasing her legs meant getting beaten into a pulp. The sheer pressure Ruth exerted on her shoulders was so painful she would have passed out if it were not for the painkillers. Suddenly, she was lifted into the air as Ruth threw herself up in a kippup and stood on her legs. She stumbled about, Karel's hands grabbing for her. Gladys held her line and squeezed while trying to break the grip on her shoulders. She punched Ruth's face, but the taller woman just jerked her head aside and riposted by biting her. Then, Ruth pulled her closer.
People around them readied their guns, but they hesitated to shoot. The situation was too confusing.
Washington screamed something, maybe a warning, but Ruth just decided to finish this before she passed out and threw herself out of the window with Gladys still on her. The first blow wasn't enough to break the pane, but the next strike was enough. They fell.
The pair struck the fortification below, slipped down the concrete roof and tumbled further down. Gladys felt her body bruise and her skin break, but she held fast. Ruth tried to protect her head as she was overwhelmed by the whole chaos that spun around them. It was getting too much and not being able to breathe was not helping. They crashed on another ledge, spinning out of control and finally landing in a snowdrift. The cold hit them like a sledgehammer.
Gladys tried to hold on to her foe, but it was getting hard to do this. The cold, the pain, the numbness, all this was getting too much for her. She felt her legs slip. Ruth shut her eyes. The darkness and cold was soothing. These last hours had been a lot of stress for her. She calmed down. She felt the warmth of the other woman's body next to her. What a bizarre ending. Should she just roll over and kill her? This woman wasn't weak like the supersoldiers, but she was still an amateur. Also, she was wounded and confused. There wasn't much she had to do.
She sighed.
Let's get this over with.
She rolled over in the snow, the light shining through the whiteness around them. The other woman's legs were now slipping so far that she could breathe in. She pushed her hands through the snow, found Gladys' face and neck and began to wrap her fingers around her throat. The other woman didn't react at first. Maybe she was dead already, cooling in the snow. Maybe she was knocked out. Anyway, time to end this.
-
There was an ear-shattering explosion above them. Clearly the bombers had been ordered to do another attack run, seeing how the supersoldiers had been torn apart. The detonations rocked the foundations of the fortress. Gladys, already cold and choking, was shaken by the shock wave and noticed that the whole snowdrift began to slip. Ruth tried to hold her, but the abrupt movement made her loosen her grip. The pair was separated for a moment when the mass of snow turned into an avalanche. They were carried off down the mountain, the masses of snow accelerating. They were thrown about, striking rocks and sad attempts of vegetation to take hold at this height. The noise was deafening. The avalanche accelerated, setting off a larger and larger mass of snow and ice.
Gladys tried to "swim" to the surface as she had read in some popular science book, but of course, this was pointless. They fell and fell, the snow getting faster and faster. Suddenly, they were flying through the air. She could get short glimpses of the ground below. They would land, and it would hurt.
They crashed into the snow. Without their incredible muscles and the unnatural resilience of their augmented bodies, the pair would simply have been smashed to bits. As they were, they survived, if only barely.
Ruth hung above it all in the remains of a tree, having escaped being impaled by mere inches. Gladys was below, her already wounded body now in very bad shape. She tried to move, but found it very hard. Still, there was something going on in her body. Something confusing ...
-
She looked at her arm. She slowly realized she was missing a hand and it wouldn't come back. The wound had closed already and the fleshy cap that covered the stump looked as if it had always been there. There was no phantom pain, but still, she couldn't help looking at it. Then she finally understood what was going on. Her arm muscles were growing visibly. The effect was small, but there was something going on. She looked at her remaining hand and saw the same thing happening. She stood up. Her clothes were in shreds, her body was covered in bruises, but she could see them heal as she watched. Gladys stood in the snow, the cold seeping into her skin. She had lost one of her boots in the avalanche. She looked up the cliff-side and was amazed they had survived this. Any other person would have died instantly.
Above her, there was a crack and the tree broke down. Ruth crashed into the snow and stood up slowly. Her body was in an equally bad condition, pieces of rubble and wood buried into her bulging muscles. Gladys noticed that the skin was healing too, pushing out the clumps and dropping them in the snow. Below the skin, her muscles were swelling too and at a faster rate. Gladys took a step back. She felt all the little hairs on her body stand on end. It wasn't just the cold and the pain, it was sheer panic.
Ruth looked at her. Her face was a mass of bruises, her eyes were bizarrely open and she was completely fascinated by the rapid transformation her body was going through.
She said:
"What the hell?" Ruth stared at her foe and asked: "Did anybody ever tell you this could happen?"
"No ... They didn't tell me much. I volunteered without knowing much about it."
"That was pretty stupid."
"I was desperate. Your people were attacking us!"
"Can we leave that alone for a moment? I'm transforming. Look at me!"
Indeed, her muscles were rapidly growing. While Gladys was progressing slower and the growth seemed to taper off already, Ruth's seemed to accelerate. There was a look of panic in her staring eyes.
"Is that going to stop?"
"I don't know. I have no idea what they did to me and even less what your scientists did with all this."
"Shit. I mean ... It's really strange. I'm getting huge."
The growth spread to her chest and back. Watching her leave human limits behind was a sight to behold. It was grotesque and shocking, but Gladys couldn't help staring. Somehow, Ruth seemed to become even more monstrous. Her body was filling with muscle, her silhouette was becoming ever more inhuman. She grunted and growled:
"It feels ... good. I'm so strong. I'm beyond anything human. I'm a goddess. A goddess of power!"
Gladys retreated. This wasn't looking good. Ruth's mind seemed to fail. The giantess dropped on all fours as her back appeared to spread like wings. She screamed in triumph and turned to Gladys:
"You're so small now. It's almost funny."
The young woman stared at the behemoth above her and tried to steady her voice:
"Don't kill me!"
"Why should I? You're weak, you're completely below me. Does you kill a bug for fun?" The enormous woman laughed. "No, my little woman, I am beyond you. I am beyond this weak humanity. Why should I care? Your struggle is futile."
She bent down to Gladys, her face framed by inhuman muscles:
"Listen, my little one. Go to your fellow humans and tell them this: This mountain is mine. They will leave it and they will follow my orders when I tell them to. If they enter this land without my permission, I will destroy them."
"They will come and fight you."
"I'll see them try. And you know what I am capable of. You may go. You are my prophet."
Gladys let out a breath of relief. She was painfully aware that Ruth would have ground her into dust.
As she stumbled away, Ruth called out to her:
"If you find my too guardians and they are still alive, you may give them to me. If not, bury them well."
-
What remains to be said?
The world has changed. Blood has been spilled. After the evacuation of the Master's main base, there came a long period of debate. Somehow, the balance of power had been upset. The rules the world had followed over thousands of years found themselves upturned. As could be expected, the abrupt changes had little impact at first. The paint was scratched, but the structures below were left untouched. And yet, slowly, the new world seeped into the tiny cracks the Master had left. Thinking machines appeared in factories and households. The world sped up, people changed their outlook as the new way of life dawned.
For Gladys, the changes meant a surprising pause.
Somehow, she had lost her perspective. She had no intention of returning to the armed forces and neither did Grant. Instead, the pair decided to take a good look at this world. There was much to see. When the Colonel and his wife received letters from Japan, Iran, Zanzibar and even a lone Antarctic station, they knew they had to ready a wedding.
There was a lot of grumbling. Relatives refused to turn up upon seeing a photo of the groom (or the bride for that matter), and yet, in the end, it was a nice celebration. There was a moment of confusion when Gladys had to wear her wedding ring on her right hand, but other than that, it went well. Lilian was there too. She looked positively outrageous in her bridesmaid's dress, all powerful and strong. She eclipsed most men, though not Gladys, who was inhumanly huge. She was on eye level with her husband, but there was a lot of joking about who'd carry who over the doorstep.
Still, the whole wedding was enjoyable.
Gladys had half expected the Captain to turn up at some point, but he had disappeared as the base was destroyed. The actual reason for the explosion was unknown, but it had definitely crippled the Master's operation. For now, there was peace, even if it was mostly the absence of war. She chased the thoughts from her mind and kissed Grant. A love for a new world, maybe ...
-
In the endless snowfields of the Himalaya, a figure wrapped in skins and coats advanced. The wind blew hard, the cold gnawed at its skin and bones. The dark shades of its spectacles were whipped again and again by gusts of wind and sprays of snow.
At last, a massive structure appeared out of the white daze. The ruins of the monastery clung perilously to the rock face. The figure lifted the shades and looked at the gigantic structure. Suddenly, there was a roar above. The woman steeled herself against the growing panic.
Then, with an incredible bound, a gigantic creature dropped down in front of her. She was clad in leather and furs, her body enormous and laden with muscles. Next to her, two lesser, but still gigantic warrior-women descended. The bigger one looked down on her and declared:
"This is a holy mountain. You cannot be here. Leave now, or die at my hands."
The woman fell to her knees, sinking into the snow.
"Please, hear me out, Mistress! I seek the wisdom of the Closed Hand! Teach me and I shall serve you forever."
Ruth grinned. Another sad, pathetic pretender. None of them had yet lasted through her training. Well, maybe that one would at least provide her with some distraction.
"You will certainly die here. But if you seek death, I'll enjoy leading you there."
"Thank you."
"Don't thank me. I am Death to all."
She jumped up and ascended the mountain at breakneck speed. Hilde and Little Phoenix looked at their new victim and grinned wickedly. A new toy for them to play with.
The candidate stared at them, but she gritted her teeth and followed them. This is were revenge could be found and she would have it.
The cold enveloped her as she began to climb.
The Closed Hand had found a new recruit.
-
So, yeah, that's it.
84,000 words. If it were a paperback book, it'd be 330 pages long or something.
And yet, it's finished.
Thank you, dear readers, for following this for three years and many interruptions. I hope you enjoyed it and I'm really looking forward to writing the next story. I might take a short break before that, though.
Anyway, I'm done and it feels good.
-
El Roy, thank you so much for staying with it and creating this wonderful piece of fiction. Your alternative world was believable, and the characters and motivations of those characters had real depth and dimension. I truly applaud your efforts and am grateful you shared them with us.
Now, rest up, and get to work on the next one!
CP
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Thank you for continuing this story for so long. It was enjoyable reading. A lot of stories here feature terrific muscle description, but you're also great at detailing action, environment, intrigue and all those other things that most people don't attempt. I guess the number of reader comments thinned out a lot over time, and I'm glad that you kept writing and sharing, even when we gave you little indication that it was being read. You are awesome!
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I can only blush and say thank you for all those nice compliments.
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Phenomenal. What makes this exceptional is that it is fiction and narrative first, with the elements of what drives this forum as a compliment to that story. Exceedingly well done.
:bravo:
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Thank you for the compliment!