This story is part of an ongoing series.
The chronological order of my stories is listed in WifeWatchman's biography, which is currently not updating. Stories after Ethical Dilemmas are:
We'll Always Have Paris, Causing a Commotion.
Feedback and
constructive
criticism is very much appreciated, and I encourage feedback for ideas.
This story contains graphic scenes, language and actions that might be extremely offensive to some people. These scenes, words and actions are used only for the literary purposes of this story. The author does not condone murder, racial language, violence, rape or violence against women, and any depictions of any of these in this story should not be construed as acceptance of the above.
Part 1 - Agents In Action
"
I got the moves baby, you got the motion,
we got together we'd be causing a commotion..."
---Madonna, 'Causing A Commotion'
The seedy, smoke filled strip joint in the City's southern area known as the Red Light District was lit mostly by blue neon lights along the walls and behind the bar. The men in the bar, mostly middle-aged, watched as the young woman danced and twirled around the pole, not really caring that she looked and acted as disinterested as them. The bar seemed loud yet muted at the same time, and everything from the lights to the music to the liquor connoted a cheap, lackluster entertainment experience.
A woman with blue-black hair and straight bangs approached a swarthy, mean-looking man with black hair and a mustache and goatee that formed a circle around his mouth. Her body was an hourglass shape and her legs looked good in her platform heels, certainly better than the girl working the pole.
"Hi, Sailor." the girl said to the man. "Wanna buy a girl a drink?"
"No." said the man. "Get lost."
"Wow." said the woman, persisting. "Tough day at work? I can make it a lot better for you."
"You heard me, bitch." said the man, turning and glaring at her. "Get. Lost."
"Okay, it's your loss." the woman said. She got up and walked towards the door to the back areas of the club, where the restrooms were. The man followed her with his eyes until she was gone, then turned back to his drink and the 'show'. He did not notice another woman, with a huge mane of black hair and thick, horned-rimmed glasses, wearing a sweater-shirt and jeans, get up and leave by the front door.
It was 11:30pm, Saturday, September 22d. The hot woman that had been dissed did not go into the restrooms, but through the door to the kitchen areas. She quickly went out a side door, often used by employees to go out and smoke. The woman in jeans came up to her.
"Bastard turned me down flat." said Callie Carrington. "Rude about it, too."
"Yeah, I saw." said Cindy Ross. "Something's not right about this. Any of it." Having an insight, she asked "Did your source tell you if Mills has been picking up various women? Or just one?"
"Didn't say." said Callie.
"Let's go back inside and watch." Cindy suggested. They went back in the kitchen door and out to the bar area. Cindy's original table, one of the furthest from the stage, had not been taken while she was out. She and Callie sat down. Leon Mills, once an SBI Lieutenant and now a wanted fugitive on the run, and the man Callie had tried to pick up, did not seem to notice the women when they came back in.
"What do you think is going to happen?" asked Callie.
"I don't know." said Cindy. "Let's just watch and see what Leon does."
It did not take long. A rather skanky looking redheaded woman, wearing a halter top and tight 'Daisy Dukes' jeans, approached Mills and sat down beside him. He turned to her, as if interested in her 'services', and they began talking for a few minutes.
"Let's go." said Cindy. She quickly led the way back to the kitchen door and out. Taken aback by Cindy's speed, Callie could only rush to catch up.
Peering around the edge of the building into the front parking lot, they watched as Mills and his new friend came out, walking arm-in-arm. Cindy said "When he gets to his car, let's jump him. You tell the girl to get lost, and I'll get the cuffs on him."
They quickly walked out into the lot, following Mills and the girl. As he got to an old car and unlocked it, he opened the passenger side door for the girl.
*ZZZZZT!*
The TASER struck Mills in the lower back. "Arrrgh!" he grunted as he went to his knees. Now masked, Cindy and Callie rushed up. As Cindy pulled Mills's arms behind his back and cuffed him, Callie told the woman to get lost.
"No,
you
get lost, bitch!" the woman said. She sprang out of the car and rushed at Callie. Callie warded off a blow with her CIA-taught martial arts, but the woman was better: she parried Callie's attempt to take her down with a couple of hard blows to the body, then a blow to her face. Callie went down, more shocked than hurt.
"Take him!" Cindy said. "I've got her."
"Come and get it, bitch!" said the redheaded woman. Cindy did so. The woman tried a vicious kick, found it thwarted, then found herself being pummeled with a series of blows. Cindy then whirled and drove her own raised foot into the woman's face, and the woman went down like a rag doll, knocked unconscious.
Callie had Mills's car keys. She opened the trunk, and the two women managed to hoist Mills into the trunk. Then they grabbed the woman. As she was thrown into the trunk and the lid slammed shut, a youngish looking man appeared.
"Hey!" he said. "What are you doing?"
"Police." Cindy said. "We're making a bust. Get lost."
"Not until I see a badge." said the reddish-brown-haired man loudly. "Show me a badge!"
"Okay, you want a badge?" Cindy said, her hand going to her back pocket. "Here's your fucking badge!" Her arm shot out in a vicious blow to the man's face. Not reacting in time, he reeled, then felt the full force of Cindy's 360 turn that ended in her kicking him in the face. He, too, was out like a light.
"Let's go!" Cindy said. She and Callie got into Mills's car, both of them wearing latex gloves. Cindy was driving, and the car scratched off as they pulled out, and just in time: people were starting to pour out of the dive bar to see what was going on...