Dress Off 07: Pillar of Purgatory

Penelope spread the documents out on the low coffee table that Stacey and Jessica were sitting around. Photos of the building - both inside and out - were placed next to architect plans of the layout liberated from council planning archives, and on top of that extensive notes on some of the key personnel who had been seen entering and leaving the building over the past few days.

"That plan you mentioned back in the car." Jessica asked. "Any advances?"

"Half a plan." Stacey corrected her. "And right now that half a plan has been swiping a hard left on all potential partners." She murmured.

A light knock on the door suddenly put all three agents on high alert, but when the knock was followed by a series of lighter and heavier knocks, Stacey couldn't help but smile. Still, with some measure of caution necessary given the current circumstances, she indicated for Penelope and Jessica to get behind the door should whoever was on the other side turn out not to be a friend.

Stacey tiptoed silently to the door, and stood to one side so that if the door flew open as she unlocked it, she wouldn't be taken off guard. She knocked twice on the door herself, paused, and when three light knocks came in reply, she flicked the internal lock and twisted the handle. She held her breath for a moment as the door swung open and tensed her muscles, but when Stacey saw who was on the other side, she instead flung her arms wide and gave their visitor a huge hug.

Erin Masterton had to step back as Stacey's full weight leaned into her, but the surprised protest never left her mouth as she felt her partner's tight squeeze and realised that Stacey's exuberant show of affection meant she'd undoubtedly had a rough night and was genuinely overjoyed to see her.

Erin returned the hug and then looked into Stacey's eyes, which seemed to burn with a fierce determination.

"Hey Stacey," Erin said, "everything okay? The Director sent me down from the field station in Berlin to join you and Jessica here in Brisbane, but when I got to the safe house there was an encrypted message telling me to come here instead!"

Stacey gave Erin a grim smile as the initial joy at seeing her best friend was replaced by the urgent need to fill Erin in with everything that had happened.

Steering her red-headed friend into the apartment, Erin barely got a chance to say a quick hello to Jessica and another woman with jet-black hair who seemed barely into her twenties, and found herself being deposited on a couch in front of a collection of documents, photos, plans and assorted paraphernalia. Jessica Beacham gave a friendly nod to Erin, while her younger companion gave a nervous wave in response to Erin's hasty greeting.

"Were you followed?" Jessica asked.

"Of course." Erin replied. "I sent them in the wrong direction, lost them, and double backed to here." She turned to face Stacey. "What _is_ going on around here?"

"Erin," Stacey said, seriousness evident in her voice. "Tom's been captured."

Erin looked at Stacey, her eyes going wide. The very fact that Stacey had referred to Tom Michelson by his first name, and not dismissively by his second name with a note of derision in her voice, told Erin all she needed to know about how serious the situation was here.

"How? Where?" Erin asked, taking her friend's hands. Tom Mitchelson was the living definition of a pain in the ass, and he was a man with a seemingly endless stream of innuendo for both Stacey and Erin, but he was their pain in the ass and if anyone was going to slap some sense into the man, it was going to be Stacey and Erin and nobody else.

"We were caught trying to get out of the target facility. Tom..." Stacey paused for a moment and composed herself. "Tom sacrificed himself so I could escape. I had to run. I had to... had to leave him behind."

Erin gave Stacey's hands a comforting squeeze. She knew that if Stacey had run then it would truely have been her only course of action.

"Well," said Erin, "let's go get him back then."

Stacey nodded, and then looked at the coffee table with their intel spread across it. "It gets worse, I'm afraid. Bree and Tess have walked into a trap. That organisation running the game, the one we broke into, have set all this up as one big elaborate way of getting their own hands on the Helsinki Archives."

Erin gasped and put a hand to her mouth. She'd heard rumours about the Helsinki Archives, but the rumours had only spoken about them as a great treasure that would somehow allow the owner to wield a power hitherto unrealised.

"So," Stacey said, speaking slowly and carefully and summoning every ounce of control she could muster, "We've got to get Tom back, neutralise those bastards, and get a message out to Tess, Bree and Headquarters."

Erin looked around the room. Jessica was sitting down with her arms crossed, a thoughtful expression on her face. Penelope sat on the arm of the couch, hands folded on her knees and with a slightly star-struck look about her.

"Well, I've tried contacting HQ in the past hour and there's been no response. So what have we got on the ground here?" Erin asked.

Stacey waved a hand at the table in reply. "Building plans, personnel files, and one half of a hare-brained scheme to break in. Plus, four amazing women of course!" Stacey looked up at Erin for a moment, and then glanced over at Jessica. "Sorry, I assume you both know each other?"

Erin nodded. "Special Agent Jessica Beacham, one of our finest and longest-serving agents."

Jessica picked up a tumbler of whiskey from the table and raised it in acknowledgement. "Agent Erin Masterton, one of our finest up-and-comers." she replied in turn.

Erin gave a small smile, and then looked to Jessica's left at the youngest member of the team. "And you must be..."

"... Agent Penelope Proudchest, Australian division!" Penelope said, standing up to attention and almost throwing Erin a salute before catching herself and realising how ridiculous that would look. "But..." she coughed, somewhat mortified "of course you would have known that from the Director's briefing already... sorry for interrupting ma'am." she mumbled, sitting down and blushing slightly.

Jessica reached over and patted her junior member on the knee. "Penelope is _also_ one of our finest up-and-comers." Jessica said meaningfully. Penelope blushed even harder, but the red tinge to her cheeks was now accompanied by a shy sweet smile instead of the nervous look that she'd worn for most of the evening.

"So," Stacey continued, "we have half a plan, one man in dire need of rescue, two special agents in an arena somewhere needing an assist, four hotshot agents in a room in Brisbane, around eight or so of 'O's fancy gadgets that Jessica and Penelope were able to procure, and less than sixteen hours to get the job done!"

Erin looked puzzled. "Sixteen hours?"

Stacey hesitated and then shrugged her shoulders. "Okay, maybe I got carried away at the end there. Anyway, we really don't have much time and Tom, Tess and Bree have even less."

Stacey stood up, pacing around the room while Erin started to sift through the documents. Jessica took another sip of her drink and Penelope busied herself rummaging through a suitcase full of equipment.

Then, as Erin peered at the building plans trying to spot some means of entry, Stacey stopped in her tracks. Looking at the three women in turn, Stacey then stepped quickly back to the table and retrieved a schematic of the top floor utilities from the bottom of the pile. Staring at it for a moment, Stacey took a deep breath. "Saddle up ladies. My hare-brained scheme for getting in just hooked up with a batshit-crazy scheme for getting out, and it's time they both went out on a date."

Jessica opened her mouth to say something, but then closed it again, looking confused as she tried to parse what Stacey had just said. Erin came to the rescue and translated. "She means it's time to get going. Oh, and she'll likely explain everything on the way."

"Well," Jessica said, signalling to Penelope to pack up and bring the bags, "what are we waiting for then?"

****

Bree dove behind cover as the bola skimmed along the ground and almost took out her feet.

"Look out!" she cried, as Harrington - having just let loose the bola on one blonde-haired opponent - was now trying to sneak up on her other opponent Tess, who in turn was crouching by a large inflatable wedge-shaped object that had provided some convenient protection in the expansive high-ceiling white-walled room where Bree and Tess had finally encountered Green Team.

Tess twisted and ducked further, and Harrington's sling shot grazed her ear as she narrowly avoided catastrophe. Thankfully, the ball of sticky ooze impacted harmlessly on to a far wall and just stuck there, slowly seeping down the wall, rather than having completely covered Tess' face as had been intended and temporarily rendering the blonde-haired beauty both blind and deaf.

As she took evasive action, Tess instinctively and simultaneously pulled out some small flat throwing discs from a small utility belt she'd liberated from a supply cupboard, and expertly flung them at Harrington. Before the older woman could react, the discs arced gracefully through the air and smacked into her top and leggings, suddenly becoming adhesively attached to both green garments.

Harrington cursed at Tess, and pivoted away from the engagement, seeking cover behind a large inflated cylinder that was narrow but nevertheless taller than Harrington, so she could press herself up against it without having to squat down. She tugged at the discs that had now bonded with her clothing, and a hiss escaped her pursed lips as she realised that she wasn't going to be losing the discs any time soon. Were they tracking beacons? What did they do? Whatever it was, Harrington didn't think she was going to like it.

"Fairchild, what the hell do you think you're doing!" Harrington snarled at her team-mate, a statuesque auburn-haired woman who similarly wore green although in her case had the panties-only version of the full outfit that Harrington sported. A pair of magnificent breasts bobbed up and down free of any constraints from clothing, doing more to impede than help Monica Fairchild as she uncertainly fired cannister-tipped arrows at Tess from further back in the room. None of the arrows unleashed thus far had even come vaguely close to endangering Tess in any way, and as another arrow sailed harmlessly over everyone's heads, Harrington was caught in two minds as to whether press the attack or fall back in a strategic withdrawal.

"Sorry!" Monica shouted back. "I mean, archery really isn't my thing!"

"Living won't really be your thing if you don't start pulling your weight!" Harrington shouted back, and Monica groaned as she tried to steady herself for another shot.

However, as the panties-clad Monica tried to judge the distance to where Tess was hiding, suddenly her auburn-haired subordinate's poor aim became the least of Harrington's problems. With a yelp, Harrington felt a sudden shock of electricity, and in horror realised that the shocks had emanated from the discs. Breathing deeply and trying to steady herself, Harrington loaded up another capsule into her slingshot and prepared to pop out from behind her cover to fire another shot at Tess. As she stepped out with the calm practiced smooth movements of a professional, she suddenly bent over in agony as another electric shock arced through her body, and the shot she'd been in the act of firing instead smashed into the ground barely six feet from where she was standing.

It was only years of combat training that saved Harrington from just collapsing on the spot and presenting the easiest of targets for Tess and Bree. With every ounce of resolve, she hauled herself instinctively behind cover, and her ragged breathing and wild-eyed expression alternated with one of seething frustration and bitter resentment.

There was no other option though, and Harrington was not one to maintain any kind of prolonged attachment to something now proving to be a liability. Gritting her teeth, Harrington pulled the green top of her head and flung it to one side, rid of at least one of those detestable discs. Now her breasts and the sensors secured firmly to her nipples were only protected by the thin fabric of her green bra. The woman was in her late 40s, and while she was by a fair distance the oldest competitor in the tournament, there was certainly nothing about the tight curvaceous body that she now revealed that made her inferior or second-best to anyone.

"Cover me!" She barked at Monica, who complied by sending another shot sailing over everyone's heads and hitting the wall at the back of the large mini-arena.

Shaking her head, Harrington quickly grasped her leggings and pulled them down, revealing an identical pair of green panties to Monica's, and she almost fell forward into the open as she tried to simultaneously hop out of the sabotaged clothing while keeping out of either Tess or Bree's sights. Now reduced to only her bra and panties, the raven-haired Elizabeth Harrington loaded her last round into the slingshot, her eyes flashing with barely-controlled fury.

She eyed a door at the near-end of the mini-arena, a door that Harrington and Monica had come through themselves prior to running into their foes. If she could make it back there, they had the advantage of knowing the layout of the corridors beyond.

Stepping out from cover one last time, Harrington aimed the slingshot at Bree, who was similarly peering around with her handgun pointed out in front of her. Split seconds before she unleashed the slingshots load though, Harrington saw Bree break first and duck back down behind her own cover. With a small smile of victory, Harrington turned and sprinted for the door in the precious moments while Bree wasn't looking.

There were three other inflatable obstacles between Harrington and the door, and she briefly considered weaving between them, but the door was simply too inviting an opportunity and she aimed herself for it at full speed. She was barely six steps from it when she heard the whirring noise, and by then it was too late. Even as her body tensed to launch of her left-foot in a reflex dive, she could feel her own bola - the one that only moments earlier she'd narrowly missed Bree Carson with - wrap itself instead around her feet. With a grunt, Harrington came crashing down to the ground, and lay prone on her belly, barely having had the chance to break her face-first fall into the floor with her outstretched hands. The slingshot and its load spilled out of her grip and slid across the floor, just out of reach.

Harrington groaned, and had to shake her head for a moment, before quickly rolling over and frantically working at extracting herself from the bola's snare. The two weights connected by a single cord had wrapped themselves around her ankles tightly, and Harrington clawed at one of the weights trying to untangle it and get any movement back at all. She sensed movement coming towards her, and looked up. It was Tess, some distance still across the room, but clearly the one who'd let rip with the throw and who had brought Harrington crashing down. She swore at the blonde-haired beauty now stalking towards her. "Monica, god damn it, cover me!" She yelled.

But even as the words came out of her mouth and her hands hurriedly fumbled at the bola weights, her mind registered more movement out of the corner of her eye, and she saw Monica Fairchild walking out into the open, arms raised as Bree Carson trained her weapon on her hapless companion. Monica seemed to be out of arrows and wore a helpless expression on her face as, hands up, she stood exposed and submissive, the now redundant bow making a clanging noise on the hard floor as it was dropped by her feet, and the woman's naked breasts heaving up and down as Monica's rapid breathing betrayed her concern at her current predicament.

"I saw you make a dash for the door Harrington, and you seemed to be in such a hurry that you'd left your bola behind." Tess said, with a smile plastered across her face. "It's not nice to litter and leave, after all."

Harrington cast a death stare at Tess, and continued to work away at the Bola, even as her opponents walked towards her, weapons now trained on the struggling older woman.

"It's over Harrington. We can do this one of two ways. You can remove your bra and panties yourself, or I can come over there and remove them for you."

"Or," Bree continued, "I could get to see what kind of mess this little gizmo," cheerfully waving the gun around that she'd liberated from Charlize for everyone to see, "would make of your clothing!"

Harrington's mouth twisted into another snarl, and she was about to spit out a retort when suddenly they were all interrupted by a fanfare that burst out over hidden speakers in the ceiling.

The voice of a male announcer piped up as the fanfare wound down. "Well, despite a top-class effort from South Africa's finest, I'm afraid to say the game is over for Thula and Charlize, who have been judged by our wonderful worldwide audience at the Palace of Penance and have now received their punishment by popular acclaim!"

Tess and Bree looked at each other, and Bree raised an eyebrow.

"Sadly for them, they had one hell of an act to follow, and Yellow Team couldn't quite match the magic that Blue Team brought to the... ahh... table." The man's voice paused meaningfully, and for a few brief moments Tess closed her eyes and remembered herself only recently strapped to a table in the Palace of Penance, legs suspended above her head, arms firmly secured and with Bree playfully teasing her pussy with her fingers. She wondered if the man's words had triggered a similar memory for Bree.

Shaking her head to clear her mind, Tess tried to focus back on the scene in front of her. She saw Bree now looking at Monica, and Tess began to sense a small flicker of doubt creeping into her friend's expression.

"Don't worry though," the man said, wrapping up for the benefit of two remaining teams and for an audience of countless unknowns, "let's not think of this as losing two fine competitors, but rather gaining two wonderful new exhibits at the Pillar of Purgatory!"

Tess clenched her jaw, thinking about how she'd seen Red Team - Akemi and Takara - spread-eagled and shackled naked and humiliated to the Pillar in the middle of the main arena. Now it seemed Thula and Charlize would be there too, restrained, nude and unable to shield their most intimate of body parts from the high definition focus of the arena's many cameras.

Turning to face Harrington, Tess spoke firmly but calmly. "Strip, Harrington. Or I'll take great pleasure in stripping you myself!" Tess kept her eyes on Harrington as she then addressed Monica.

"You too Monica, drop those panties or Bree here will gladly pay you back for your betrayal!"

Even as she spoke though, Tess' face furrowed in to a frown as she saw Harrington look suspiciously between Bree and Monica. Tess quickly looked too at her friend and companion, and realised what Harrington saw now. Doubt, fear, uncertainty. Bree's face was a sea of emotions as she looked at her lover, submissive in only green panties, standing ready to drop her last item of clothing on the ground.

In a flash, Tess could see the scene playing out in Bree's mind. They'd spoken about it before of course, of the need to send this team to the Palace of Penance, of the need to win this competition and to secure the prize. Bree had been confident and firm in acknowledging the need for Monica's cover to be maintained, to risk having her sent to that place with their greatest foe.

But now, as that possible future was only a few small lingerie items away from being turned into reality, her kind-hearted friend was a picture of internal conflict. Bree knew what would happen at the Palace of Penance, and it was one thing for her to make love to her friend Tess, but quite another to know that she'd sent Monica to be toyed around with by Harrington. And worst of all, Tess knew Harrington saw all that too.