Statuesque

Sun twists away from her thrust, the shaft passing clear of his chest. At the extent of her reach, he grabs the pole and lifts it to the side, unsettling Sienna's balance. She steadies herself, bracing to pull it away from him with both hands but, instead, he uses her pull to accelerate his jump towards her. Lifting the spear again as he lands, exposing her flank, where he jabs the marker pen just below her rib cage.

She doesn't need to look at the red mark. Instinctively, Sienna knows a knife would have gone through to her heart.

"The spear gives you reach, but it will also give your opponent leverage, if you offer it to their grasp," Sun tells her, happily. "In battle, the phalanx would blood the end of their spears, early, to make them slippery to the hold. You have access to modern lubricants, which won't run down the shaft. Vaseline, or silicon spray. The spear is your weapon, don't let your opponent turn it against you."

"I see."

"And something else to try. When extending, like you did, don't thrust with two hands, like you're shoveling coal. Project your forward hand first, for control of the point. Let the shaft move through its grip, as you thrust with the rear hand. Quick jabs, the strength of one hand is enough to unsettle your foe, the tip of the spear will focus the energy. Now, again!"

The session continues like that. Sienna, improving her technique, through Sun's guidance, only to be humbled, by each new attack.

~

Eric parks the rental outside the martial arts studio. His right hand still tingles from the eight magazines he expended at the indoor range. One-hundred-thirty-six rounds, in total. He hoped that would be his last live-fire, for the week. Their plan needed Sokolov to live.

Sienna descends the stairway from the upstairs studio and steps out onto the sidewalk. He sees she's carrying a long wooden staff. The instructor must have given her some homework, he figures.

"Maybe you should travel on horseback, with that thing," he says, as Sienna maneuvers the pole into the cabin.

"Yeah, it's a bit impractical. The Glock is easier."

"Are you hurt?" he asks, pointing to the red mark he sees on her neck, across her jugular vein.

"Only my pride. The bastard beat me with a Sharpie, over and over, but I'm improving. I've got the next two mornings scheduled with him, apparently."

"What do you want for lunch?"

"Something light. I'll be getting naked in front of all of New York, in a few days."

Eric looks across at Sienna. "Is that worrying you?"

"What do you think?" she asks, closing her eyes.

~ Astoria, NY, Parking Garage, Monday afternoon, August 7, 2023 ~

As Sienna approaches the storage room in the garage, she can hear music and two voices talking. The room is more like a cage, made of galvanized steel and chain-link wire mesh. A lining of canopy fabric hides the contents.

Without a flat surface to knock on, Sienna calls out, "Hello?"

The bolt on the outside of the cage is locked open with the padlock. She listens to an internal bolt being unlatched and the door of the cage swings open.

"I recognize you," says the young Latina woman at the door, "my name's Mandy, and this is Matt. Team M and M, at your service."

The slim Black man smiles and gives a wave. "Yep, you look like your statue, all right. Have you seen it yet?"

"Only from the window, upstairs," Sienna replies.

"Come in, come in," Mandy says, gesturing with her hand.

"Sorry about the parking garage, we need the ventilation. We'll be spraying alcohol-based body paint. You don't have any allergies do you? Isopropanol? Rubbing alcohol?"

"Not that I know of," Sienna replies.

"Well, let's do a test on your arm, with straight alcohol. It's a bit late to be finding out after we spray the paint on you. 'Cos you'll need more alcohol to wash it off."

Mandy soaks a sponge with a squirt of isopropyl alcohol, then wipes the inside of Sienna's forearm.

"Hold this sponge there, for a bit. It evaporates so quickly," Mandy says, before continuing to explain the process.

Matt jumps in, from time to time. They seem to finish each other's sentences, picking up where the other leaves off. Sienna can't tell who is the more senior, they just seem to be a cohesive pair.

Between them, 'Team M and M' explain the painting process, and the limitations of the product. They come to a pause, then Mandy reaches into the drawer of her makeup cart, extracting a triangle of silicone in the shape of an oversized corn chip.

"Do you know what this is?" she asks.

"My pubic hair, I guess," Sienna replies.

"Yes. We took a cast off the statue, so it should follow your contours."

"It's a little bit flexible," Matt adds, "and will be open at the bottom... the rear... I mean, between your legs."

Mandy is amused by Matt's fluster. "You'll be able to go to the toilet, if you must, but it'll be better to go before we glue it on -- if you know what I mean. The glue is also alcohol activated, it'll need a bit of soaking to get it... to remove it."

"I think I understand," Sienna smiles. "Only the two of you will have the secret potion, to remove my chastity plate."

"Something like that," she says. "Sorry, we were told it had to work outdoors, for hours, so we prepared for rain, sweat, and running. Water-activated products aren't up for that, so it's all professional-grade stuff, with an alcohol base."

"I'm more worried about the contact lenses. I've never worn them," Sienna says.

"The colored ones aren't ready, yet. They'll be here tomorrow. So we've got some neutral ones you can practice with, later," Matt says.

"Good. No reaction," Mandy says, looking at Sienna's forearm. "I think we're ready, if you'll get undressed, please."

Sienna glances at Matt.

"Don't worry about him," Mandy smiles, "Matt has a boyfriend."

As Sienna removes her shirt, Mandy frowns, "You'll need to wear loose-fitting clothing, on the day. Statues don't have bra-strap marks."

"Statues don't need a bra, they all have firm breasts," Sienna jokes. "Are we just starting with the top?"

"No, we'll have to glue on the crotch-piece, first. And the over-spray will get on everything, so let's bag all your clothes, before we spray," Mandy says, then turns to Matt. "Could you mix some glue for me?"

Sienna strips the remainder of her clothes, while Mandy puts on a pair of nitrile gloves.

Mandy smiles when she sees Sienna's shaved pelvic region, glad that that is already taken care of. She has some disposable razors in her kit, but she's only ever shaved her own pubic hair, and is already nervous enough, working on a naked woman.

"Try this for size, first," she says, passing the silicone molding to Sienna. "It's supposed to cover your entire vulva. Turn you into a Barbie doll."

"I suppose, vaginas didn't feature too prominently in Roman statues," Sienna agrees.

"From my research, the ancient statues were mostly just topless, with a bit of clothing left to cover their hips. Full nudity is more of a Renaissance reinterpretation of Roman mythology."

"Could you do clothing?"

"Sure, something small would be okay, if it isn't windy. Anyway, too late for that now, your naked statue is already in the park. We'll have to match it," Mandy says.

Sienna presses the small triangle against her crotch. It offers little more for her modesty than pubic hair, before she shaved it all off.

Mandy takes the covering from Sienna and passes it to Matt, who wipes it with alcohol, then begins to cover it with glue. There is only one seat in the room and Mandy is sitting on it.

"You'll have to lean back against the edge of the bench, and spread your legs a bit, while I wipe the oils off your skin," Mandy directs. Then she rolls her gas-lift hairdresser's stool forward, so her knees are between Sienna's. Her eyes level with her navel, while she re-wets the sponge with alcohol again, then wipes over Sienna's vulva. The fast-evaporating alcohol is cool on her skin.

Matt returns the covering for Mandy to align and press into place.

"Hold that there for a bit, Sienna, especially the top corners," she says, rolling back a bit.

"You can start thinning paint for the spray gun, thanks Matt," Mandy says, "Sienna, I'm going to paint a thicker layer on your elbows and knees, with a sponge applicator, we don't want the paint cracking there when you move about."

"What if I need a touch-up?" Sienna asks, while Mandy is sponging the light-gray paint onto her various joints.

"We can give you a little spray bottle, for that. We won't be out there, though, we're not badged law enforcement. Do you have someone on the team we can instruct?"

"My partner, Eric."

"Okay, the glue should be dry now. Put on this mask and stand under the extractor fan, Matt will spray on the first coat."

Each pass of the spray gun makes her skin cold, as the alcohol evaporates off. But after the first coat, she starts to feel strangely dressed. The layer of paint, insulating her skin from the air, making her feel less naked.

~

Tuesday morning, for Sienna, consisted of more martial arts training, with Sun. There isn't enough time to build her strength, or learn advanced techniques, so the session is spent on refining the skills she does have, with exercises. Drills, like swatting away tennis balls with the shaft of her spear, as Sun circles her, lobbing balls, between comments on her stance, grip, or footwork.

Her afternoon is free, so Eric drives her back to the FBI operations room, in the apartment overlooking the sculpture park. Between them, Linda and Leon seem to have come to a mutually agreeable division of duties.

After lunch, the current 'watchkeeper' on shift, an FBI operator named Jake, calls Sienna and Eric over to the kitchen.

"You've got an admirer. We recorded this, last night," he says, playing a video from the surveillance camera, while they look over his shoulder.

In the monochrome footage, a figure in a tracksuit, with baseball cap, is seen to loiter near Sienna's concrete statue. After checking he's alone, he approaches the statue and pushes down the waist of his pants. His left hand then rests on the statue's waist. He is obviously masturbating, judging by the movements of his right arm.

"What a freak," he laughs.

Eric puts his hand on Sienna's shoulder. She feels tense, as he gives it a small squeeze.

Is that supposed to calm me? Reassure me? Keep me quiet? Sienna thinks.

"What's your fetish, Jake?" Eric asks him.

"Huh?"

"Everyone's got a fetish. Wait -- let me guess. Yours will be voyeurism. Watching people with your cameras."

"Yeah, that sounds right," laughs the communications officer, beside him.

"It has its moments," Jake answers.

"Are you watching Sokolov? Where is he now?"

"Manhattan, still."

"Good. Sienna and I need to inspect the park again. Sight lines, approaches... that kind of stuff. Call me if Sokolov returns to Queens."

"Sure."

Eric leads Sienna away, towards the door. It's only when they're outside, on the sidewalk, that they begin talking.

"Do you agree with him?" Sienna asks.

"No. Well... yes and no. The guy was a bit of a creep, jerking off in a public park, but I don't blame him for getting turned on by your statue."

"So you think he's a pervert? For liking statues?"

"Not for liking statues. For masturbating in a public park."

"Jake thought he was a pervert."

"That's all part of the game."

"What do you mean?"

"In a way, we're conditioned to be repulsed. It wouldn't be any fun if everyone around you just agreed and said 'oh, yeah, feet are pretty hot.' That would probably drive you to find a new fetish -- something you can own."

The pedestrian light turns green, and they resume walking, crossing the road into the park. Eric takes Sienna's hand, holding it, while they walk.

"Our cover," he says, as she glances across at him.

"You know, Jake will be watching us," she responds, continuing to hold his hand.

They walk in silence for a bit, playing the part of a young couple.

"You said everyone has a fetish. What's yours?" Sienna asks.

"Women, smoking."

"Ew!... Oh -- I just did the same thing," Sienna realizes.

"Yes, you did. But I agree with you, it's a disgusting habit."

"Then, why?"

"Blade Runner. More specifically, the scene where Harrison Ford interrogates Sean Young, to find out if she's a replicant. Probing her with questions, until he knows things about her that she doesn't know herself. I think that's why I joined the FBI -- the intensity of the interview. Using your wits to extract the truth."

"I bet you've never questioned anyone like that."

"No. I've had some interesting moments, but nothing like the movie. I'm not even thrilled by smoking that much, anymore. I may need to find a new fetish."

"Maybe your fetish was Sean Young? You should write to her -- ask if she'll send you a picture of her navel, or something. As inspiration," Sienna jokes.

"I'm not sure I want a navel fetish. They're a bit limited in function. I could do more with an armpit -- warm, moist, and hairy."

"Ew! That definitely fits the fetish category," she laughs.

"Your statue's armpits are none of those things," Eric says, as they stop to look at Sienna's concrete figure.

Sienna avoids looking at where her 'admirer' left his stain.

~ Martial Arts Studio, Harlem, NY, Wednesday morning, August 9, 2023 ~

Wednesday's spear training was less aggressive. Sun had been told to avoid injury to Sienna. A twisted ankle or sprained muscle could derail their plans. So he focuses on technique, with the few hours he has left to prepare her.

"You're not ready for a tournament," he says, at the end of their lesson, "but you'll surprise the average goon on the street. Use your speed and agility, don't let him wield his strength against you."

He gives Sienna an encouraging smile, all trace of 'Master Yoda' is gone from his speech.

~ Astoria, NY, Parking Garage, Wednesday afternoon, August 9, 2023 ~

Sienna approaches the storage cage again, in the building's carpark. She can't hear the radio playing, this time, so she calls out.

"M and M, are you there?"

"Yes," Matt answers, from behind the fabric, as Mandy unbolts the cage.

"It's on?" Mandy asks.

"Yes. Another ninety minutes, before we're committed, but I'll need to be ready."

"Okay, let's get started then," Mandy says, as she closes the door again, behind Sienna.

They all know what to do now, after Monday's trial run. Matt starts mixing some glue while Sienna undresses, bagging her clothes to protect them from over-spray. Mandy soaks a sponge in alcohol, then wipes the inner side of the prosthetic.

As Sienna removes her shirt, Mandy smiles at her; acknowledgment that Sienna has been braless all day.

"Stop leering, Matt," Mandy says, without looking at him.

He gives a snort of amusement, in reply.

"I found out, after you left on Monday, that Matt is bisexual. I just presumed he was gay because he had a boyfriend."

"Well, I hardly think that matters, right now. I'm about to stand naked in a park in the middle of New York, I expect some leering. At least I trust the two of you."

"I can't really blame him. When I got home on Monday, I practically demanded sex from my husband, I was so turned on."

"Try a cool shower, scrubbing leftover paint off yourself for an hour," Sienna says, not mentioning the two masturbation sessions she had, between scrubbing.

"Yeah, this professional-grade paint really sticks. I'll give you some rubbing alcohol to take with you, after you're done. Shower water and soap won't really do much."

Mandy passes an alcohol wipe to Sienna, for her to clean her pubic area, in preparation for the glue she's applying to the inside of the crotch piece.

"Okay, assume the position," she says.

Sienna leans against the edge of the work bench, spreading her knees apart, as Mandy rolls her chair closer. She holds the trapezoidal piece of silicone above Sienna's crotch, aligning it by sight, then presses it into position.

"Good. Hold it there for me, please, like before," she asks, as Sienna's hands replace her own.

Matt is mixing the light-gray paint for the spray gun, thinning it with alcohol.

Sienna's nipples are already erect, even before the alcohol-base is applied to her skin.

"That's the thicker paint," Matt says, gesturing towards a jar.

Mandy takes a sponge-brush and dips it into the light-gray paint.

"Knees and elbows again," she says, waiting for Sienna to present a joint for her to paint. "And I'd better put a thick layer on your nipples, too. I could see some cracking there, on Monday, when your nipples did their nipple thing."

Sienna is far less embarrassed today. She had already spent two hours with 'M and M' on Monday, mostly naked. She figured it's like a nudist camp -- after a while it becomes normalized. Not that she had even been to a nudist camp, she's only read about them. Or, perhaps, she was more concerned with dangers of the upcoming operation. Dangers, and opportunities. If this worked, they might just get to seize Gadar's yacht. That was going to be Sienna's personal measure of success, for all this.

"That's five minutes, the glue should be dry now. Put your mask on now and move to the spray booth, so Matt can apply the first coat," Mandy instructs.

The 'booth' is just the corner of the storage cage, where some plastic sheets are taped to the walls. An exhaust fan is running overhead.

Sienna stands in the corner, limbs spread, while Matt gives her a smile, then begins applying the body paint with his spray-gun. The alcohol-base is evaporating away quickly, cooling Sienna's freshly colored skin. She closes her eyes and goes over the planning in her head, once again, while Matt continues his work.

~ Astoria, NY, FBI Observation Post, Wednesday afternoon, August 9, 2023 ~

Things had changed for Linda, since her cool reception on Sunday. The FBI were no longer treating her as an outcast. Leon even had an FBI laptop issued to her, so she could participate in the operation's secure chat.

"Where's Sokolov?" Leon asks his current communications officer.

"Manhattan. But we don't have eyes on him -- he's in their consulate building," the woman responds, without looking up from her laptop.

"What about the account-seizure notice?"

"Fax and email, ready to send to the Depozit exchange. It's just before ten PM, in Slovakia," she says, looking up this time.

"How's your team, Linda?"

"Sienna is being painted now -- another sixty minutes. Eric just collected the van."

"My team, and NYPD, are ready. How's the international pieces, Michael?"

"No major events brewing in the world, we shouldn't have any distractions. BGP hijack is ready to fire. Influencer team is standing by."

"Any final concerns?" Leon asks, as he looks around the room. "...Then we're on. Execute!"

Michael sends the email he already had prepared. The communications officer makes a call, to her contact in the police department. Leon types 'execute' into the chat room, to record the decision time, in the event log. There's not much for Linda to do. She's been forbidden to participate, on the ground, as she's been with the FinCEN long enough to be recognizable. This is all supposed to look like an IRS domestic operation, to the Russians.

Four minutes later, the website of the Russian's alternate exchange, Tekello, in Lithuania, becomes unreachable.

"Routing is being black-holed. And the influencers are posting," says Michael, "'Tekello exchange, hacked by North Korea,' is the title."

"Now we wait and see what Depozit are going to do. Freeze the account, or tip-off Gadar," Leon says.

"At least we'll ruin his sleep. It's approaching midnight, in Moscow," Linda says, with amusement.