Ghost of a Chance Ch. 07

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A fun night, out of the fire to safety... or are they?
11k words
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Part 7 of the 12 part series

Updated 10/08/2022
Created 07/28/2009
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I know; I flubbed here and there the last time. That's what I get for trying to edit at 4:00 in the morning. Sorry about that; I promise to be more careful.

Anyway, some have being anxiously awaiting the next installment. Well, wait no longer...

________________________________________________

Ohhhhhhh... my head...

Brenda slowly rousted herself out of the painful haze that clouded her brain.

What the Hell did they hit me with?

She tried to turn her head and found that to be a mistake; a sharp pain stabbed through her skull.

Okay, that was bad. All right; one thing at a time.

She forced her eyes open and attempted to focus them on the first thing she saw.

Okay... ceiling, hanging lamp...

She wiggled her fingers and found that they still worked. Then she tried moving her arms, but something held them back. The same result happened when she tried to move her legs. Turning her sore head slowly, she spied a door out of the corner of her eye. The rest of the room was bare.

All right, I'm lying on a table in a small room with only one door...

She then noticed her arm flung over her head, her bare arm. Then she lifted her head as best she could to look her body over, and found herself staring at her tits.

...and I'm naked.

But she also noticed that her form was slightly out of focus, and that the door frame and what little she could see of the white table she was lying on had an aura glowing around them.

...but still invisible. They didn't take the ring off.

Brenda wriggled her body as best she could. She felt fabric underneath her; a bed sheet. Narrowing her eyes, she saw a faint outline of a wrinkle in it.

Of course, my skin is in contact with the sheet; it's invisible. That's why I can see the table... and the shackles are outlines, too.

Her wrists were encased in leather restraining cuffs, and she was willing to bet that her ankles were equally restrained. Her mind was conflicted with thoughts of how to get free mixed with what happened in the alley... where her love was shot.

"Tom..." she whispered on the verge of crying.

No, she thought quickly blinking back her tears. He had his bullet proof vest and body armor on. He's made of tougher stuff than that. He's alive and probably looking for me right now; I'm sure of it. I've got to try and contact him. Where's my stuff?

Brenda strained her head to get a better look around, producing more jabs of pain in her skull, and saw her disguise and mask dumped in the room's corner along with her weapons.

I wonder...

"Ghost," she blurted in a hushed voice, "Ghost, can you hear me?"

For a moment or two, Brenda panicked but then a tiny squeal sounded in her ear, and she smiled.

They didn't take the ear plug out, either... or just didn't see it.

Small bursts of weak static came from the ear piece; that told her Tom could hear her or he was trying to contact her.

"Tom?" she hissed.

Another burst of static, and, "Brenda?"

She sighed in relief, "I can hear you."

"Where are you?"

"I don't know. I woke up tied down to a table in a bare room," she glanced at her body again, "and speaking of 'bare', they've taken everything off of me. My stuff is in the corner."

"How can I hear you then?"

"The voice box in my mask must still be on; I was counting on that."

The doorknob rattled, somebody shoving a key into it.

Brenda stiffened up, "Someone's coming in."

"Get them to talk and tell you where you are; I'll hear them."

"Right. Tom, hurry." Forcing herself to relax, Brenda readied herself for... whatever was going to happen next.

And judging from the way they had her bound hand and foot and naked, she didn't think it was going to be fun.

***

After Brenda stopped talking, Tom adjusted the knobs on the tracker on the car's dashboard. Looking like any global positioning device that most cars had nowadays, it was actually a tracking device that homed in on a tiny beacon inside their ear pieces. The beeping on the screen was getting louder and faster; that told him he was getting closer to Brenda position.

She was right; that money did help with our 'activities'.

Taking the money from a fencer last week, Tom and Brenda bought new, high tech gadgets to assist them in their crime fighting endeavors. Instead of being used for illegal transactions, the two and a half million dollars they confiscated from the dealer was put to better use, including the purchase of secret gear from a local 'spy' shop, the kind that sells things to help private detectives track down and listen in on people they're investigating. It really amazed Tom at the things someone could get, if they had the right amount of money.

The pitch from the beep on the screen jumped up and turned into one long tone; the tracker pinpointed Brenda's whereabouts.

Well, almost. The screen narrowed it down to half a city block.

Driving slowly through the streets of a seedy part of town, Tom crept up on the area of interest and park when he got to the edge of the block in question. The tracker managed to narrow the search again, this time down to two or three buildings.

Tom checked the area and, not seeing anyone, got out of the car fully dressed in his disguise, sans mask and gloves.

"Per is vox, lux lucis sinus." Tom spoke the old Latin phrase and slipped the ring onto his finger, instantly vanishing from sight. He donned his mask and gloves, checked his weapons belt one last time, and started towards the building on his right, the nearest.

But he stopped in mid stride when his ear piece squeaked at him.

"Rise and shine."

The voice wasn't Brenda's.

***

"You awake, sweetheart?"

For a second, Brenda was going to remain silent and make the thugs work for the answers they wanted, but thought the better of it. If they had to 'work for it', they might 'work' on her to get results.

"My name isn't 'sweetheart', and you're going to be in a world of hurt when my partner gets here."

"We're counting on your partner to show up."

Brenda saw three goons, all standing at the end of the table near her feet. The tallest of the trio was doing the talking. "You're pretty; our boss likes chicks that are curvy."

Of course, she thought, they saw me inside the field when they stripped me and touched my skin while I was unconscious. That means the ring works when I'm asleep, too.

"Mind telling me why I'm naked?"

The tall one drew nearer, "We wanted to see what you looked like; see if you were anyone we knew. I was surprised that you weren't a guy. We can only see you when we touch you; why?"

"Magic."

The goon walked up to her side and reached out, "You're in no position to be a smartass, bitch." He grabbed at her body and found her belly, moving his hand up to her chest. "What the fuck?"

He felt all around her torso, groping at her breasts, but she still remained invisible. He let go and stared at the table.

"Something's wrong. We saw you before, but it doesn't work now. What did you do?"

Brenda didn't say a word, her stomach fluttering.

Frustrated, the thug groped her again and found her neck, "You better start talkin', bitch! My boss wants to know how you and your friend do this thing you do!"

"Yeah, I'll bet he does," Brenda choked out, "but if you strangle me, nobody gets to know."

The clod lightened his grip but still had his hand ready, "We may not be able to see you, but I can still feel you. You're going to tell us, or I'm going to start breaking things."

"Your boss isn't going to like me very well all beat up, now is he?" Seeing the apprehensive look on his face, Brenda pressed on, "I didn't think so. Don't you guys have anymore lights in this place, except the one over my head?"

"It's an old building," this from one of the other two in the room, "scheduled for demolition; nothin' much works here..."

"Shut up, Leo! She don't need to know that!"

Brenda smirked, "Any minute now, my partner's going to come crashing through that door."

"Don't bet on it," the tall goon smirked back, "That's the only way in or out of this room, and it's guarded."

Not for long, I'm willing to bet. "What about the skylight?"

Everyone in the paltry room glanced up at the soot smudged glass fixture off to their right, and the thug answered, "Unless your partner can fly, he's not coming in that way." He let go of Brenda's throat and felt down her chest again, "Now, are you gonna start talking, or..." He found her breast again and squeezed, making her yelp.

Up until now, Brenda had no problem keeping the goons confused. Now that she was conscious, all she had to do was concentrate on making specific parts of the thug's body disappear instead of his whole body which would allow him to see her. She made his palm and the flat of his fingers vanish, leaving the rest of him visible and outside of the power field.

But now she was starting to lose focus and had to concentrate harder, doing her best to ignore the pain being inflicted on her breast.

"You little cunt!" the thug yelled, "I'll do a lot worse if you don't..."

"What the Hell's going on in here?"

All eyes in the room turned to the door when a man dressed in a business suit bolted in. He walked right up to the tall goon and smartly backhanded him.

"I told you not to do anything to her!"

Rubbing his now sore jaw, the thug mumbled, "Sorry, Boss."

"Not half as sorry as you're going to be if you ever disobey me again! And where the fuck is Chaz? He's supposed to be guarding the door!"

Brenda recognized the man in charge; he was the one who was dealing with other man in the warehouse they staked out a few weeks ago. He took off before the police arrived, and had been hiding out ever since.

"Now, my dear," he started, reaching out to her and caressed her thigh. But his charming expression changed to confusion.

"We tried that, Boss," the one that got smacked spoke up, "It's not working now."

"Then you're not doing it right," he sneered.

Brenda started breathing harder as his hand traveled up her leg to her crotch. His fingers probed her soft pussy lips and she felt one of them being inserted.

"Do I have your attention now?"

The lowlife wiggled his finger deeper into Brenda's vagina, making her squirm. She tried to concentrate, making just his finger disappear, but his playing was making her wet. Brenda bit down on her lip when he curled his finger up and found her 'tickle' spot, and started sweating and tried not to moan.

"I don't know how you're doing this, but you can keep it up for long," the greasy scumbag snickered.

One of his hired goons perked up, "Hey Boss!"

"I know; it's starting to work again."

Brenda couldn't focus her ability and was fading in and out from her tormentor's point of view. From the outside, the thugs saw their boss doing the same. Finally, he disappeared all together and, in his eyes, Brenda came into view.

"That's better," he cooed, seeing Brenda wriggling, "Now, who are you? Who's your friend?"

Her boobs were rising and falling with each heavy breath, her nipples hardening. Her pussy was shiny and slick with her juices. She looked at his contemptible face with one of her own.

"You fucking pig!" she hissed, and spat on him, "When he gets here, you'll be the one who gets it worst of all."

"Oh, I don't think so," he sneered back, idly brushing her spittle off of his jacket, "So your partner a 'he', huh; your husband, maybe? Well, we're ready for him this time."

"With what, more steam?" Brenda figured out that the lowlifes 'saw' the two of them in the alley when one of them broke open a pipe, and the steam that touched their power fields disappeared leaving a 'hole' in the cloud of vapor. And the reason was because of the slit cut into the side of their gloves, the only exposed skin on their bodies, which allowed the steam to come into contact with them. "How did you know that would work?"

"I didn't," he admitted, enjoying the sight of Brenda writhing in sexual heat and not being able to stop it, "I took an educated guess."

"You're 'educated'? I wouldn't have guessed."

Brenda cried out when the scum roughly push more fingers into her pussy.

"Crank was right," he growled, nodding to the one he slapped, "You do have a smart mouth. I'll put it to better use in a minute," To emphasize his point, he grabbed his crotch and continued, "Yeah, it was a guess. I figured that any object passing through a cloud would leave some kind of a sign. Even if the object couldn't be seen, the trail it left behind could... and I was right."

Quickly but casually, Brenda looked up at the skylight, then back to her captor, "Did the teacher give you a gold star for it?"

Brenda squealed in pain as her torturer grabbed her nipple and twisted. "I'm sick of your mouth, you little bitch," he grunted, "Who are you? Where's the money you took from me?"

Brenda scowled at him, breathing hard through her nose.

"Don't want to tell me, huh? Maybe this will change your mind." He let go of her nipple and unzipped his pants.

"I'm going to enjoy seeing you in pain, you motherfucker." Brenda winced when his fingers entered her deeper. He fished around in his pants and brought out his dick, semi-hard and starting to drool precum, "and I'd rather have my tits super glued to one of the booster rockets on the space shuttle than touch your pathetic little pecker!" She glanced up again and smiled to herself.

The slimy boss withdrew his fingers from Brenda's sore and wet pussy and hoisted his body up onto the table, straddling her chest. He playfully smacked at her tits with his still somewhat flaccid penis. "Let's see if your mouth sucks as good as it sasses," he grabbed her hair forcing her face towards his dick, then drew a gun out of his pocket and pressed the barrel against her temple, "and the second I feel teeth starting to chomp down," he clicked the gun's hammer back, "you feel lead."

The other goons in the room, still not able to see the action going on but hoping that they might get a turn, closed in on the table. Not one of them noticed that the dirty skylight opened and closed, nor did they see the rubber shim that was being jammed under the door from the inside.

"You know," she said sweetly, "You could at least tell me your name. I like to know whose cock I'm sucking on; I'm particular that way." Inwardly, she readied herself for a fight.

"It's Jacko," he answered.

How appropriate, she mused.

"Well Jacko, I hope you enjoy this," she licked her lips seductively, "because... it's probably the last time you will."

"Are you trying to scare me, little girl?" said Jacko, ready to press the tip of his dick against her mouth, twisted into an evil grin.

"No," Brenda answered, matching his sneer with her own, "I'm trying to distract you."

Jacko's look changed from 'lewd' to 'scared' in two seconds flat. Before he could say another word, he let out a cry of pain. His head flung itself back and the rest of his body followed, flying backwards off of Brenda and roughly landing in the lap of the thug behind him. The goon hollered in surprise at seeing his boss suddenly coming out of the ether at him and both of them hit the floor as the other two rushed to help them up, Brenda disappearing from his sight again once contact was broken.

Ghost, listening in on the exchange between Brenda and the cockroaches and talking to her through her ear piece telling her to keep them occupied, immediately went to her restraints and freed her hands. Unbuckling her ankles, Brenda jumped off the table and ran to the corner of the room, grabbing her disguise and weapons.

"No!" Jacko bellowed through a painfully aching mouth and missing teeth, waving off the helping hands thrust at him, "Not me, you idiots! He's here! Hit the sprinklers!"

Oh fuck, Ghost thought. If the steam gave us away, water dripping on our fields will to.

As Brenda hurriedly donned her belongings, a groan came from the pipes overhead. A torrent of water sprayed out of the sprinkler heads just as Ghoul pulled her mask over her face. Clicking her harness into place, she looked at Ghost who was looking back at her.

Sure enough, the droplets of water were raining down all over the room... except the place where they were both standing. The drops that came into contact with their power fields simply rolled off their forms and created perfect outlines in the curtain of water.

"Ghost!" Ghoul called out, the worry evident in her altered voice. Ghost just shook his head, telling her not to be concerned, and readied his baton as he crept up to the table.

"What did I tell you?" Jacko yelled out in glee at his cohorts and pointing his gun at the pair of 'holes' in the water. He aimed at Ghost, "You can't hide from us now!"

"Wanna bet?"

Ghost swung his baton up and ducked out of the line of fire, Ghoul doing the same. Just as Jacko was squeezing the trigger, the baton smashed into the overhead lamp, the only light source in the room. The bulb in the fixture popped and shattered into tiny bits plunging the entire room into darkness, the filthy skylight letting in absolutely no light from the outside and leaving everyone literally 'in the dark'.

Ghost and Ghoul readied for the fight... and were stunned when they saw each other, discovering yet another unknown trait of the rings' power.

The pair was surrounded in an eerie glow of pale white light, and their bodies looked like photographic negatives with tiny dots of light flashing on their fields where the drops of water hit. Glancing around the room, everything was black... with the exception of a thin white outline around objects and people. No colors, no features; just simple outlines, and the outlines of Jacko and his goons were trying to feel their way around the dark interior, with no success.

I'll be a son of a bitch, thought Ghost. The grin under his mask twisted into pure fury.

"Find the door!" The shout was barely out of Crank's mouth when he was clobbered from behind, hitting the floor in a heap.

The other two thugs desperately tried to reach a wall in order to feel their way to the door; only one of them made it as Ghoul dropped the other with a swing of her baton.

The third goon, Leo, managed to find the doorknob and started to pull, but instead started grunting as he yanked on the door and found it jammed.

"Won't open, Boss! Chaz! Open the fuckin' door!" That was the last thing he said before he joined his companions on the floor, out cold.

Jacko was in a panic, darting his head around and wildly waving his gun. He jumped when another groan from the pipes blared out, the water pressure dropping and cutting off the sprinklers.

"You're still in here; I know it!" He started firing at anything, the echoes of the shots ricocheting off the bare walls; four shots in all. Breathing through clenched teeth (what was left of them), he listened carefully for any movement.

But his face drained of color when he sensed something directly behind him, and immediately urinated in his pants when he heard, "Missed me" growled at him in a sing-song voice.

Before he could swing around to meet his adversary, the gun was pulled from his hand and the front of his suit was being grabbed. Jacko's eyes were wide with fright when Ghost materialized before him, his vision the same as the fighting duo when he was brought inside the power field. Ghost appeared as just that: a hideous apparition of pale dead light that was reserved for someone's bad dreams.

"You... you... you won't kill me," whined Jacko, his bottom lip quivering.

Ghost tightened his grip on Jacko's suit, "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't!"

"Because you don't do that," Jacko gulped and pressed on, "I told you I've heard of you, and you don't kill anyone. You just beat them and leave them for the cops to find."