Æquinoctium Ch. 03

<~>

"Where the hell have you been?! You look like after a bloody pub crawl!"

"Shhht!"

Denise put a finger to her lips and made sure that nobody else was in the locker room or the adjoining showers - this time a bit more subtly than in the hotel.

"So?!"

Denise hushed her again, pried her bag from Gina's hand and took out pen and paper.

Take your clothes off - maybe bugged.

"D--"

Denise covered her friend's mouth with her hand and shook her head with a stern expression. No names until she was sure nobody was listening in. She held her get-nekkid note up again.

Gina rolled her eyes, but complied eventually. Once down to her matching set of red bra and panties, her outfit put into her locker for additional insulation, she was standing with Denise next to a running shower.

"Now?"

"Yes, I think it's safe."

"And I think you are a wee bit paranoid. Why aren't you in your undies, too?"

"I don't wear any. And I've already checked my clothes for microphones."

Gina gave her a quizzical look.

"Why?"

"Because I am a 'relevant person'."

"I mean why don't you wear any underwear? That's normally my field of expertise."

Denise frowned. Gina seemed to still believe that she had been on an all-nighter, weird after-effects included.

"Æquinoctium kept my underwear because it was drenched because I was doused with ice water because I was uncooperative."

Gina managed to put confusion, bafflement and disbelief into a single facial expression. Denise just sighed in agreement.

"The stuff I made up at the date, it has all come to life."

"What? That Tristanium nonsense? It's bullshit!"

"That's the official position, but in reality they believe it."

"They-they? Like undercovernment guys?"

Denise's voice was speeding up with every syllable.

"They prefer the term 'operatives'. And they are counteracted by a shadow organisation, leaving me in between. All because of that git Thom."

"Æquinoctium?"

"What are the odds, right?"

"Uhm..." Gina treated carefully, "are you completely sure about that?"

"Do I look unsure about having been abducted not three blocks away from Bianchetti's? Detained at one black site, then tricked to another, and on top of that forced to play fetch throughout the city the whole morning?"

"It's just that you have a - very endearing - tendency to embellish--"

Denise almost set forth to get the melter from her bag, after all a genuine Æquinoctium gadget. But then she hesitated. The less Gina knew about future events, the better for both of them.

"I'm not making that shit up. Your phone could be tapped, maybe you are even under direct surveillance. Did you notice anybody following you around?"

"Everybody with working testicles."

"Ginny, this is serious!"

"I didn't see a white van with blokes in shades in it. I never leave my stuff unattended. And I'm pretty positive nobody has shoved a tracker up my pussy."

Denise pressed her breath out in a sharp hiss. She was inches away from pushing her friend under the cold shower, when a new distressing idea hit home.

"I'm not so positive about mine, though..."

"That was supposed to be a-- what are you doing?!"

Denise had already freed herself of her blouse.

"I was out cold for quite some time when Æquinoctium took me. Long enough to implant a tracking device under my skin."

Gina obviously found it increasingly hard to humour her friend's alleged paranoia. Then her eyes fell on the various burn marks on Denise's torso, standing out angrily against the pale skin.

"What did they do to you?!"

"Some Scotch broad went Zero Dark Thirty on me."

"Okay, that's it! We've got to go to the police."

"No."

"Dee, you have been tortured!"

"When we go to the police, they'll hand me over to the intelligence guys, and they will make these look like love taps."

Gina sighed, put her arms akimbo, bit her lip, sighed again and finally nodded.

"Okay. What are we looking for?"

Denise kicked her shoes off and stepped out of the skirt. They had been naked around each other before, but not that naked. She couldn't be bothered to care right now, though.

"Injection sites. Small cuts. Inflammation."

"What if somebody walks in on us?"

"Then they get something to look at. Wait..."

She braced herself with one hand against Gina and angled her lower leg sideways to inspect the sole of her right foot.

"I stepped into something sharp earlier on. Maybe they used the wound."

A small red spot at the instep radiated a light soreness. Palpating it revealed no foreign object. For good measures Denise checked her other sole, then went to work on the front of her body, paying special attention to the burns R had bestowed upon her. Gina meanwhile examined the areas her best friend could not see herself, starting from the nape of the neck.

"Okay, you are 100% organic."

Denise wasn't so sure yet.

"Well, there's still--"

"No way!"

"Ginny..."

"Use a hand mirror."

"It won't work. Please, I have to be sure, or I go insane."

"Why don't you let Thom have a peek?"

"Giiinny...!"

Gina groaned and went to her knees in front of Denise.

"I always knew it would come to this one day, sweetie, but I thought I would need to use some roofies."

<~>

"Unblemished. Feeling felt up yet?"

Denise, now a complete redhead both by hair and skin, fished for her clothing.

"I really didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

"Never mind. I would be agitated, too, if some pervs could have messed with my body. By the way: There's a difference between waxing and polishing."

"I like it smooth."

"Well, it doesn't make much sense to throw out the carpet when the roof is still rusty," the reputed blonde helped her friend out of her embarrassment.

"Gina, I really hate to ask anything more--"

"Just say it."

"I can't go back to my flat."

And once she had crossed Æquinoctium, which was part and parcel of her plan, the numbers station would be useless as a hideout either. But if she could make it through the next night without being caught or otherwise botching up her own little scheme, this whole nightmare would be over.

"Why, that shouldn't be too big a problem. I give you Antonio's key."

"Who's Antonio?"

"My double-date date."

"Oh, the tongue. But why would he have me in his flat?"

"Because he won't be there tonight. He and his tongue have a demanding challenge at my place," Gina overshared. "I've got some of my clothes there, too, if you need to change."

It saddened Denise to break disturbing news to her friend-turned-accomplice.

"Ginny, chances are high your home is listened into as well."

"I will bite a pillow."

"Just don't chat about any of this in the rare occasion that your mouth will be empty. Do not use your phone or your computer or your other phone with the fluffy cover."

"Sure. Don't worry about me."

Her voice had taken on a deeper, caring colour. She gave Denise a heart-warming smile and hugged her long and tightly.

"Excuse me, are you sisters done yet?"

A dark-haired gym rat was standing in the door to the showers, lean muscle strands pushing out in hard definition, skimpy towel wrapped around perfect torso. Denise, holding her attire before her, hurried past the newcomer. Gina followed closely, yet in a far more relaxed gait and stopped at the doorway.

"Say..." she held her index finger under the perplexed woman's nose, "does that smell like real ginger to you?"

<~>

They had left the fitness centre separated. Gina with an old and empty gym bag from her locker to make the pretence for her visit halfway believable; Denise later in a flock of jazzercise devotees. The next and so far most critical phase of her plan led her to the inner city again. Whatever would be going down exactly at the harbour tonight, she would need a distraction to change its outcomes in her favour. Her earlier stroll through Market Street had given her a much sought-after idea as to how to accomplish that task without secure access to her cosy little social media hamlet.

"Welcome to Fiona Q. How may I help you?" the saleslady greeted Denise with a high-end smile.

"Just looking, thank you."

"Of course. If you have any questions, feel free to ask."

It was impressive how the boutique's employee kept her lips in a smile whilst talking. Fiona Q. resided behind the Eastern façade of a vast Jugendstil edifice - high ceilings, extraordinary presentation and sovereign pricing were the label's characteristic features. Denise seized two random pieces and took them to the fitting rooms. She chose a cabin between two occupied ones and closed the curtain behind her. From the left and right the sweet rustling of haute couture reached out to her.

"Hi... at Fiona's..." Denise started to talk low, but not too low, as if speaking on the mobile. She felt a bit silly, but what the heck.

"Some tie blouse, but not here; I got an insider tip... okay, but don't tell anybody: Gyniq Cqyn is having a midnight sale... yes, tonight, some kind of guerrilla promo event..."

Left and right of her the rustling had stopped abruptly the nano-moment Denise had dropped Gyniq Cqyn. The wilfully artificial name belonged to the hottest, hypest alternative fashion label known to mankind. Battle-hardened fashionistas tumbled into crescendos at the mere whisper of a new collection. A-list actresses breathed the eccentric letters with phone sex voices when asked at the red carpet what they were wearing tonight. Denise had run to Bianchetti's during her lunch break. For an event at GC she would run during a radioactive fallout.

And, what a coincidence, Gyniq Cqyn had recently set up headquarters at the Waterfront Development.

After returning the textile equivalent of a month's salary back to their tables, Denise left the boutique and hurried to the next destination on her list.

Of course it was anything but a coincidence for Gyniq Cqyn to have set up shop in the area. The Waterfront Development was a part of the old harbour turned into a hipster-friendly feel-good zone. Lined up on a 2.3 kilometre long bicycle highway were venues, art galleries, an indoor bouldering site, a tofu bar, two more Apple Stores. A paradise for everybody who considered themselves urban, dynamic, non-mainstream, bohemian or anything in between - as long as one was economically comfortable. Denise had been there a couple of times for window shopping. Little had she cared about the excellent infrastructure with lots of escape routes and maze-like warehouse districts in close proximity. She hadn't noticed how easily the area itself was to be overseen along certain axes. And she could not remember acknowledging how, unlike the commercial part of the harbour, the Waterfront had no general access restrictions. Funny how times had changed...

"Welcome to My-My. How may I help you?" the shop girl received Denise with undisputed charm.

"Actually..." Denise closed in to a conspirative distance, "I happened to hear that a competitor of yours will throw an exclusive midnight sale tonight. I know I shouldn't ask, and that you can't officially answer - but if anybody has some intel about it, it's the local fashion community."

Intrigued by the unusual approach, the sales girl of the club-like styled boutique offered unofficial help instead.

"What label would that be?"

"GC."

The assistant's eyes began to sparkle, and she dropped a good bit of her professional appearance.

"Gyniq Cqyn?! At their harbour flagship?"

"As rumour has it."

"Are you sure? That would be, like, super-amazing!"

Denise chose an insistent tone, knowing that would stir her victim up even more.

"Just... let's keep it between us girls, okay?"

"Absolutely!"

Leaving the shop, Denise threw a quick glance back. The sales assistant was typing on her phone with the speed of light. Denise reckoned her first letters were "OMG!!".

<~>

Miss/Become was number five, and Denise decided to pull off the fitting room stunt again, mainly because she really needed to sit down. Her feet, more precisely her shoes, were killing her. The shop mainly dealt in casual yet refined basics - decent 500 € cashmere sweaters, that sort of things. In the space before the cabins two female customers were having a lively chat that made them tune out their surroundings.

"At midnight. But don't you dare tell Charlotte! The other day at Bianchetti's she grabbed all the--"

The woman became aware of Denise's presence and fell silent at once, eying the redheaded newcomer with healthy rivalry. Denise mouthed a "sorry" and turned on her smarting heels. In leaving she could not stifle a content smile.