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Message-ID: <47421asstr$1081757407@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: Imagineer <imagin8r47@yahoo.com>
MIME-Version: 1.0
Subject: {ASSM} Cruel Summer 41 {Imagineer} (nosex viol caution ScFi)
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Date: Mon, 12 Apr 2004 04:10:07 -0400
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Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
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Cruel Summer

copyright 2001-2004 by Imagineer.

comments to 
imagineer 47: yahoo green eggs com ham
but without the green eggs or ham

http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Imagineer/www/


// 41: Tested


  JemFan: anny word from ur dad??
  PenMan: Nothing. I hope nothing happened to them.
  PenMan: I feel so useless. Maybe I should go down there.
  JimmyHat: and do what d00d?
  JimmyHat: go with your strengths -- kicking badguy ass isn't one of
them
  PenMan: Has anyone seen Sapphire?
  DarkestKnight: nope
  JemFan: no
  DiamondGrrl: ya bout 100 of them
  PenMan: keep looking
  DiamondGrrl: I should be at that party
  DiamondGrrl: u o me bigtimme pm!!
  JemFan: quite grrl ur dad grounded u
  JimmyHat: chill out chickies, the real party doesnt start till after
midnite anyway
  PenMan: well you guys know what to look for, brb

  It was after 9:30. No sign of Sapphire, no sign of Eric, no sign of
his dad, no sign of anybody who looked like an evil government agent --
not that they knew how to spot one.

  Wait. His dad's phone was ringing this time.

  "What?" 
  Ricky could hear the car in the background. His dad was driving --
from the sounds of it, he was driving pretty hard.

  "Dad! Where've you been?"
  "Ricky! I told you not to call anyone!"
  "Listen, Dad, I can help."
  "What?"
  "I said I can help!"
  "Ricky, no. Listen, we ran into some trouble but we're almost there.
I just hope we're not too late."
  "I don't think so. There's no sign of Sapphire or Ginger."
  "What? How do you know?"
  "We're tapped into the surveillance network."
  "We?"
  "The Sapphire Network. I've got almost a dozen people monitoring the
live feeds."
  Ricky thought he heard his dad curse under his breath. "What'd you
say?"
  "Nothing. Here, talk to Eric. [pause] Hey, Ricky."
  "Hey, Eric."
  "So you're wired into the surveillance system?"
  "Yeah. I've got eleven people going over all the feeds."
  "Good man. That'll help a lot. Woah, look out!"
  "What?"
  "I was talking to your dad; I thought he was gonna- oh, shit! That
was close. Anyway, Ricky, any sign of Ginger or her crew?"
  "I don't really know what to look for."
  Damn. Eric hoped he still had the snapshots in his handheld.
  "I think I have their photos on me, I'll send them to you in a sec.
How long have you been watching?"
  "About an hour."
  "So they might have all shown up earlier and be holed up somewhere
the cameras can't see."
  "I guess. Still, I don't think Sapphire'd be hiding if they're
supposed to find her."
  "Unless she's gonna ambush them."
  "Good point." Ricky cursed himself for not thinking of that.
  "Hey, did you check the other rooms?"
  "Yeah; a few smaller DJ rooms for 70s and 80s stuff; mostly old
people in there."
  "What about the- Jesus, man, we need to get there in one piece! What
about the executive suites?"
  "They're empty. We keep checking them, but nobody's in any of them."
  "Well, look again. When I was there the first time Ginger was headed
for the elevators."
  "You were there earlier? What happened?"
  "Ginger told Security I was there to... there to kill Bates."
  "Damn."
  "Yeah, it's gonna make things a little tougher. We'll need all the
help you can give us."
  "I'll do everything I can. Send those pictures."
  "Right; they're on their way. [pause] Your dad says we'll be there in
about five minutes. Check those suites again!"

  PenMan: Eric says check the executive suites
  DarkestKnight: I"ve been watching them all nite
  DarkestKnight: nobodys even been up thre
  DarkestKnight: andits distracting cuz those feeds flicker
  JimmyHat: what do you mean flicker?
  DarkestKnight: check em out
  JimmyHat: checking
  JimmyHat (whispered): we have a problem
  PenMan (just to JimmyHat): What?
  JimmyHat (whispered): hold on
  JemFan: woah that is annoying
  JemFan: glad ur watching em nott me!!
  PenMan: Hold on I'm getting pics of people to look for
  PenMan: brb
  DiamondGrrl: amen
  BluePrincess: heyall what did i miss?!?
  JemFan: ur suposed to let us kno when ur not watching!!
  JemFan: this is impotent!!!
  DarkestKnight: she let me know ive been watching her feeds
  JemFan: i mean importent argh
  BluePrincess: importANT JEM
  JemFan: wotever
  DarkestKnight: ive got 4 computers going
  JemFan: geek!
  DarkestKnight: u no it
  PenMan: ok dl the pics.. they're on the website /ul/pics/
  PenMan (just to JimmyHat): WHat's wrong?
  DarkestKnight: ok got em
  JemFan: OK!!
  BluePrincess: ok
  JimmyHat (whispered): all the suites are looped
  PenMan (just to JimmyHat): oh shit
  PenMan (just to JimmyHat): can you hack it
  JimmyHat (whispered): im' workingo nit
  JimmyHat (whispered): I'm working on it
  PenMan (just to JimmyHat): ??

  The minutes ticked by, punctuated by an occasional whisper from Jimmy
that he'd unlooped another camera -- but so far there was no activity
on any of them.

  Ricky wished he was at Jimy's now; maybe he could have helped fix the
cameras if he could watch over Jimmy's shoulder. But here at some
stranger's house uptown -- one of Jim's "acquaintences," though Ricky
wondered what Jim was doing hanging out with a guy who must have been
in his early thirties -- just blocks from the convention center, he
felt powerless.

  JimmyHat (whispered): check #57
  PenMan (just to JimmyHat): what is it?

  But there was no answer; Jim had moved on to the next camera, no
doubt. Ricky pulled up the camera in question...

  ...and his heart leaped into his throat.

  His hand reached out to the screen, fingertips gently caressing the
surface, as if he could reach out and touch the room he saw.

  And the young woman curled up in the armchair in the corner.

  It was Angela. It had to be. He saw only long black hair, shins and
bare feet held by slender hands, but he just knew it was her. He stared
at her for a long time, expecting, then hoping, then willing her to get
up, change position, move just a little bit so that he'd know she was
okay; but she sat motionless.

  JimmyHat (whispered): #50
  JimmyHat (whispered): company coming up the stairs
  BluePrincess: hey theirs 2 of em!!
  JemFan: were?
  JemFan: argh where??
  BluePrincess: #40
  BluePrincess: er 50
  DarkestKnight: i see em on 51
  DarkestKnight: looks like cooper and rosewood
  JemFan: ya u getting this pm?!
  DarkestKnight: hey isnt cooper the name of the black guy on miamivice
  DiamondGrrl: whata geek!!1

  Ricky found himself talking to Angela through the screen, though he
knew she couldn't hear him. Come on, Angela, get up. You've got to get
out of there. They're coming for you.

  Then it occurred to him that there was something missing. She wasn't
wearing her trademark sapphires. Maybe it wasn't Angela at all. No, it
had to be; he'd practically burned every detail of her form into his
brain. Maybe they'd already captured her. Maybe she was a prisoner.
Maybe she was no longer Sapphire. Maybe she'd already given up. Maybe
they'd already won. Maybe she was just Angela, and she needed help.
Maybe she wasn't moving because she wasn't awake. Or wasn't alive.
Ricky, don't think like that.

  I've got to do something.

  But it was six blocks to the convention center, maybe more. Long
blocks. Dammit, why wasn't his dad there yet?

  The two men stopped in the hallway under camera 52. They appeared to
be having a rather heated discussion. But they might start moving
toward Angela at any moment.

  Think, Ricky! He stared hard at the image, as if he might somehow
glean a clue, some piece of magic information that would whisk Angela
away from there.

  And he saw it.
  The phone.
  Right there on the desk, just on the other side of the room.

  If he could just call that phone somehow and talk to Angela, maybe he
could tell her how to get out of there without being spotted.

  But Ricky still didn't have full vision of the fifth floor. Several
cameras were still looped; indeed, for a horrifying moment camera 57
flickered and showed a picture of an empty room -- Ricky thought Angela
had simply vanished -- but then she came back.

  JimmyHat (whispered): sorry bout that
  JimmyHat (whispered): theres a system on the lan resetting the cam
loops every few mins
  JimmyHat (whispered): i think somebody left a laptop behind, i'm
gonna try to crash it
  PenMan (just to JimmyHat): hey can you get me the phone list for the
convention center?
  PenMan (just to JimmyHat): I gotta warn Angela
  JimmyHat (whispered): sure but i'm kinda busy..have you tried social
engineering?
  PenMan (just to JimmyHat): duh thanks

  Ricky was about to pick up the phone when he felt a hand on his
shoulder; he jumped.

  "Oh, sorry to scare you. Would you like some cookies and milk?" It
was John, Jim's (older) friend and Ricky's current host.
  "Yeah, sure. Thanks."
  "Is that the girl you're helping?"
  "Yeah."
  "She's very pretty."
  "I didn't think girls were your type," Ricky said brusquely. He
didn't even stop to think that there wasn't much to see the way she was
sitting.
  "Oh, no, Jim is a friend of my nephew's," John answered graciously.
Ricky wondered if that was some euphemism he wasn't familiar with, but
he let it go. "Well, I'll let you get back to it. Holler if you need
anything."
  "Thanks."
  Ricky picked up the phone.
  "Security office for the Oak Valley convention center, please.
[pause] Thank you." He dialed the number.

  "Hi, can you connect me to the Winwood suite please?"
  "I'm sorry, DJ Storm isn't taking outside calls."
  DJ Storm? That must be Ginger's alias. 
  "But this is an emergency."
  "I'll be happy to take a message."
  Damn. Here goes... "Okay, this is her son, Phoenix. Tell her that her
sister Zephyr showed up at the house again and when she wasn't here
started yelling and breaking stuff and getting really violent, and I'm
wondering if I have permission to shoot her again." Holy shit, Ricky,
where'd that come from?
  "Excuse me?"
  "You want me to repeat it? What part did you get." Ricky hoped he
could remember the details of the tall tale he'd just pulled out of his
ass.
  "Did you say 'shoot her again?'"
  "Yeah. It's just a .22, last time I just shot her in the arm, it
usually quiets her down until she sobers up. But I think this time I
might have to take out a leg, and I know mom'll be pissed if I get
blood on the carpet without checking with her first. So will you give
her the message? I need her to call me back right away."
  "Um, why don't you tell her yourself, kid. Lemme connect you."
  "Okay, thanks." Damn, Ricky, you are so smooth it's scary. 
  Oh, it's ringing. Come on, Angela, pick it up.


  Pick it up.
  Pick it up. Pick it up. Pick. It. Up.
  Pickitup!

  Ricky's eyes darted back and forth between 52 and 57, the hallway and
the suite, the two men and Angela. The men showed no signs of hearing
the phone. But neither did she. Angela still wasn't moving. Didn't she
hear it? Did they connect him to the wrong room? He was about to hang
up when he saw her head move. Did it? It did! She was looking at the
phone. He saw her chin and her nose, her eyes still covered by stray
strands of wet hair. The camera's resolution was low, but his mind
filled in all the details.

  What was she waiting for? Get up. Answer the phone. Come on, Angela,
answer it!

  Maybe she wasn't alone in the room. But Ricky didn't see anyone else.
Maybe in the next room? Maybe she was afraid to answer it. Afraid it
was for Them. Afraid it *was* Them.

  Ricky could only let it keep ringing. And hope.

  She got up. Ricky held his breath as she crossed the room. She stood
in front of the phone. It rang. Why won't you answer it?

  Movement on 52 now; the two men were walking down the hall. To 53.

  Come on, Angela!

  Her hand reached out, gripping the handset.

  Pick it up!


  Who would be calling?
  Ginger, probably. Or one of the other men that worked for her.

  If she answered, they'd know something was wrong.
  But if no one answered, they'd know something was wrong.
  Maybe she could bluff them. "They're in the shower." Yeah. No -- both
of them? "The other one stepped out." Lame.

  The ringer started again; each ring seemed longer, louder.

  She picked up the phone. And waited in silence.

  "Thank God you're all right." It was Ricky. But how?
  "Ricky- How-? Where are you?"
  "I'm at a friend's house. We hacked the surveillance system. Look up
in the corner."
  Oh, God; was he watching when she...?
  "Ginger had the conference rooms on loopback; we just figured it out
about five minutes ago. We're just starting to get the cameras back
online. When I saw you there and you weren't moving, I thought
something terrible might have happened."

  Something terrible did happen.

  "They... they said they had you. They said they'd hurt you if I
didn't give them what they wanted. They tried to hurt me."
  "But you're Sapphire."
  So he knew. Not that it mattered anymore.
  "Not anymore. Ginger is Sapphire now."
  "Ginger will *never* be Sapphire!" Ricky said hotly.
  It was a sweet gesture. But it was also futile. "Please, Ricky. It's
over. I failed."


  Ricky was silent. It hurt to hear her like this. Shattered. Hollow.
  "It's gonna be okay. We're gonna get you out of there. My dad and
Eric will be there soon." He didn't stop to think whether she'd know
who Eric was. "They're gonna stop Ginger."
  "Ricky, Ginger has my power. There's nothing anyone can do now."
  "Don't talk like that." Ricky had a hard time coming up with any
better reassurances. Finally he said, "My dad will think of something."
It didn't sound very convincing.

  "I'm sorry," Angela said, barely above a whisper.

  Ricky was about to offer words of comfort when he saw motion out of
the corner of his eye.

  "Angela, you've got to get out of there, now. Two of Ginger's men are
headed your way. Is there a back way out, maybe through the other room?"

  Angela thought about the bedroom. She shivered as she remembered the
gruesome sight she'd left there. "No," she said flatly.

  Shit. They'd already turned the corner. There was no way she'd get
past them now. "Angela, wait! They're already coming down the hall. If
you go out there now they'll see you."


  Ricky's excitement infused Angela with a sense of urgency. Her brain
awoke to the situation she'd created for herself. She'd killed two of
Ginger's men. Their bodies were laying on the floor in the next room.
Two more of her men were coming for her.


  On the screen, Ricky noticed Angela hold something up, pointing it
toward the front door of the suite. It was a gun.

  "Quick, Angela! Hide!"
  "There's nowhere to hide." Her hand shook; she brought her other hand
up to steady the weapon.

  Ricky watched as the scene played out with agonizing slowness. The
pair of agents got closer, and closer, and closer, and...

  ...and they turned the wrong way. Toward the door across the hall.
The... Hammer Suite.

  "Angela, they're going in the other suite. If you run, maybe you can
make it down the hall before they come back out."

  A part of her wanted to stay. She didn't want to escape. She wanted
to stay and let the bad men come for her.

  "Angela, please. Go. Hurry."
  She stood, unmoving.
  "Angela, please! I thought I lost you once; just when I found you I
don't want to lose you again."

  Didn't he know who she was? Didn't he know what she'd done? Didn't he
know what she'd become?

  "Ricky, don't."

  "Angela, either you get out of there now or I'm coming to get you."
His voice was suddenly strong. Assertive. Forceful.
  "No."
  "Then get up, hang up this phone, and get out of there *now*." Ricky
received a chatnote from JemFan; his dad had arrived. "My dad will meet
you at the front stairs. Now GO!"


  Ricky was right. She'd done enough damage. She wasn't going to let
him foolishly risk his life for her. Not for her. She wasn't worth it.
"All right, but promise me you won't come."
  "Angela..."
  "Promise me, Ricky."
  "All right." It was said through clenched teeth.
  "Goodbye, Ricky." She hung up the phone.

  Ricky watched his angel tiptoe across the room in her now-familiar
Sapphire costume.

  JimmyHat (whispered): #59 is hot

  Ricky switched 57 to 59. It was the other suite. The two were looking
around, confused. They headed back toward the doorway... where were the
doors?

  ...Angela was halfway down the hall. She was tiptoeing quickly, but
not running. Hurry up! They'll see you!

  The tall one's hand was on the doorjamb...

  ...Angela was still ten yards from the corner; she wasn't going to
make it...

  ...he was through the doorway; he would see her any second...

  ...but he stopped and came back inside. What for? Ricky scanned the
suite; the man's partner had turned around. There in the corner was a
woman.

  Ginger.

  Where'd she come from?

  Ricky looked back to 51. Angela had turned the corner; she was
heading down the stairs. Whew, that was close!

  Ricky dialed his dad's cellphone.

  "Detec- uh, Noel Aquino speaking."
  "Dad! I found Angela! They'd captured her but I helped her escape!
She's coming down the central south stairwell now; I told her you'd
meet her at the southeast stairwell near the front of the building."
  "We're just coming in the service entrance now; we're on it."

  BluePrincess: pm i c ur dad
  BluePrincess: theirs a guy w/him
  PenMan: that's Eric; he's on our side
  Ricky switched cameras as Angela moved down the stairwell to the main
floor, his stomach in knots, checking ahead to see if any more of
Ginger's men were waiting for her. If two were with Ginger, that meant
there were three more of them out there somewhere...

  In his other video window Ricky monitored Ginger and her two boys.
The latter seemed angry about something, but Ginger blew them off. She
streamed past them out the double doors and across the hall to the
suite where Angela had been just moments ago...


  Ginger wrenched open the double doors, slamming them against their
stops to announce her presence. She hoped the girl was feisty enough to
try to escape; she'd love to clothesline her to the carpet just to see
that frightened-deer look one more time.

  But the room was still. 

  Rosewood and Cooper followed her. Rosewood was still mouthing off.

  "You know, you shouldn't just run off without telling us. This is a
team effort and it's really unprofessional."
  "Shut up, Rosewood, or I'll rip off your balls and use them as
garnish."
  "Real unprofessional," he muttered under his breath.

  Maybe they were still in the bedroom. The Johnsons said she was
insatiable. Well, it wouldn't be the first time she'd walked in on one
of their little parties...

  "Oh my God." Her hand covered her mouth in shock.

  "What is it?" Cooper asked, pushing past her, only to rebound into
the front room like he'd been yanked back by a rubber band. Rosewood
saw from Cooper's expression that he'd seen something distasteful.

  Rosewood stepped up next to Ginger to see what the big deal was.

  Johnson lay on the floor near the bed, a thick blackish soup of blood
pooled like a halo around his head.

  The other Johnson lay nearer the bathroom, flat on his back, his head
turned unnaturally far toward the door, lifeless eyes looking straight
ahead. The left side of his face below his cheekbone had been reduced
to hamburger. The credenza opposite the bathroom door was specked with
blood from the point-blank bullet's exit. Rosewood's brain recreated in
too-vivid detail the man's position at the shot, his fall forward --
the wide smear of blood two feet to the right of the body indicated a
gentle face plant, as if he'd fallen onto the shooter -- and his
post-mortem flop onto his back, his right arm tossed out, reaching out
not unlike the naked guy in that ceiling painting to pull the finger of
God.

  Rosewood didn't know why he noticed the man's fly was open.

  It took a moment for the meaning of these two dead bodies to hit him.
He didn't handle it well.

  "Eric's here, man. He fuckin' killed 'em. They were our ticket outta
here, man!"
  "Quiet, Rosewood, we have a more immediate problem; without
Sapphire's grand exit no one will believe the stones are destroyed."
Ginger stroked her chin in thought. She had another problem: the
Johnsons were supposed to dispose of Rosewood, Taggert, and Cooper for
her after she left. Now she was going to have to do it herself.

  Rosewood lost it. "Well that's great, that's just fuckin' great man,
now what the fuck are we supposed to do? We're in some real pretty shit
now man... That's it man, game over man, game over, man! Game over!
What the fuck are we gonna do now? What are we gonna do?" 

  Slap!
  "Get a hold of yourself, Rosewood! What you're gonna do is go out
there and get my Barbie back!"

  Cooper spoke. "You gotta be kidding. There must be a hundred girls
down there that look exactly like her. If she's even still in the
building. She's probably run halfway home by now." 

  Ginger's face lit up; who said it had to be Angela? "Fine. Recruit a
volunteer. Tell her... tell her it's a stunt to pay homage to the
heroine -- in private, of course, don't let anyone else hear you. Tell
her the stuntwoman hired for the job got sick at the last minute."
  "Good idea, boss."
  "Pick somebody that can pass for her. No amazons. And no fat chicks!
And make sure to find one who's not afraid of heights. There should be
plenty of bungee jumping extreme sport bitches out there to choose
from."

  "What about Eric?" Rosewood whined. "He's gonna fuckin' kill us, man!
He already shot me once, now he's comin' back to finish the job!" He
held up his bandaged hand.
  "Shut up. This isn't his style. He's... neater than this." Ginger
briefly considered the possibility that the girl had somehow gotten
hold of one of the Johnsons' guns... no. She was too submissive for
that. Maybe this was that cop's doing. "Still, why don't you let Cooper
recruit us a crash-test dummy while you go let Security know that
Bates' assassins are back."
  "What are you gonna do?"
  "I'm gonna have a drink. If that's okay with you," she sneered.


  Ricky couldn't see the bedroom; what were they doing in there?

  JimmyHat (whispered): 58's live
  JimmyHat (whispered): fuck me...

  Ricky switched to camera 58.

  And nearly tossed his cookies.

  Two bodies, laying twisted and grotesque on the floor atop large dark
splotches. The one face he could see was half man, half black-puddled
mask.

  He flipped back to Angela, now standing in the stairwell on the first
floor. The gun still hung from her right hand.

  No, it couldn't have been... could it?

  Ricky spoke to the screen. "What are you doing, Angela? Why are you
just standing there?"

  His computer chirped; someone in chat was trying to get his attention.

  PenMan: okay, hang on

  "Dad, Angela's in the central stairwell on the first floor. I don't
know why but she's not coming out."
  "I'll get there as fast as I can, son, but you wouldn't believe how
many people are down here."
  Ricky quickly flipped to a main hall cam. "I see, Dad."
  "Oh, right."

  DarkestKnight: 2 bogies on 25
  DarkestKnight: there moving into the crowd and splittin gup
  DarkestKnight: splitting up
  PenMan: got it

  Ricky hit a button on the other phone before putting it to his ear.
"Eric, you there?"
  "Yeah."
  "Two of Ginger's crew just left the suites and started mingling in
the crowd."
  "What the hell are they up to?"
  "I don't know. They split up. One's... Rosewood, the other's...
Cooper."
  "Where's Ginger?"

  Ricky flipped through the suite cams -- 57, 58, 59, the hallway on
53, 52 -- where'd she go? Ricky stalled Eric while he chatted Jimmy.

  PenMan (just to JimmyHat): Did we lose the suite cams again?
  JimmyHat (whispered): checking

  "Um, Eric, somebody killed two guys up in the suites. I think they
were the Johnson brothers."
  "They're not brothers, but okay. Where's Ginger?"
  "I'm looking. Rosewood's making a beeline for the offices."
  "He's probably going to Security to do the same thing you're doing;
he must think I killed the Johnsons."

  JimmyHat (whispered): no... all live
  PenMan: Ginger disappeared. Keep your eyes peeled.
  JimmyHat (whispered): wait I lost 58 for a sec but it's back

  The rooms and hallways were deserted. Where'd she go?
  "Ricky, where's Ginger?"
  "She was in the suites, but she just... disappeared. The cameras are
all working, but she's just not there."
  "All right, lemme know as soon as you find her. In the meantime I'll
take care of Rosewood. Your dad can take care of Angela."
  "All right."
  "Find Ginger."

  Where could she have gone?



  Ginger's fingers held the porcelain in a death grip as her entire
body heaved.


------------------------------------------------------------------------


  Angela stood frozen in the stairwell. The pulsing beats of dance
music reverberated in her head. Just outside the door, a growing crowd
of happy citizens, people who would no doubt assume she was there to
celebrate life with them. None of them aware of the extent to which
she'd failed them. Or the terrible evil that might soon be unleashed
upon them.

  Ricky had said that his dad and Eric were here. Mr. Aquino would get
her to safety, while the man she knew as Scott would somehow fix this
horrible mess.

  Thought she knew. Thought she could trust. But he'd just been using
her. He was the one who'd given her the curse that was those sapphires.

  But he didn't awaken the curse. You did. You can't expect him to
clean it up.

  But he's a secret agent. And he worked with Her. He knows how she
thinks. He can outsmart her.

  But Ginger has the sapphires. What could anyone do against that?

  I can do something. I know the sapphires better than anyone. I'm
responsible for all this. I've got to at least try to get them back;
it's what a heroine would do.

  A voice inside her scoffed. Look at yourself. You're hardly even
dressed. Without those sapphires, you're nothing but a stupid girl.
You're no hero.

  But somewhere deep inside her, Angela found encouragement. "You can't
give up." She steeled herself with her mother's strength. Angela
brushed aside her doubt.

  It's not a costume or superpowers that define greatness. It's what
you do when it counts that makes you a hero.


------------------------------------------------------------------------


  Ricky saw movement on the stairwell camera. He looked to see Angela
going up the stairs.

  No, that must be someone else. Angela must have already gone out on
the floor to meet Dad.

  He checked the camera outside the stairwell. No sign of her. He moved
up the stairwell cams. There was no denying the face that passed him by
-- it was Angela.

  And she looked... angry.

  "Angela, what are you doing?" Ricky hit redial.

  "Dad!"
  "I'm almost there."
  "Dad, Angela's going back up the stairs!"
  "What? Why?"
  "I don't know. She just turned around and started climbing."
  "Did she forget something?"
  "I don't think so. She's got a gun."
  Ricky heard his dad break into a run; his voice came and went as the
phone bounced around. Ricky found him on video. The mass of partygoers
flowed like syrup along the walkway; Noel Aquino juked and dodged his
way through it, leaving confused and angry people in his wake. By the
time he got to the stairs, she could be...

  Ricky saw Angela pop into view on 51. "No, Angela, what are you
thinking? You're not..." he stopped short of saying she wasn't
Sapphire, "...you don't have your powers..."

  "Dad, I think she's going back to the suite where I found her. Hurry!"
  "Is she crazy?" He'd just started climbing the stairs; Ricky saw him
take two and three at a time. He flipped back to Angela, now on 53,
then to the rooms.

  He caught the briefest glimpse of motion in 59 before everything
flickered -- and the room was empty.

  His fingers were a blur.

  PenMan (just to JimmyHat): What just happened?
  PenMan (just to JimmyHat): All the cameras went back to looping!
  JimmyHat (whispered): fuck. i think i poked that laptop wrong
  JimmyHat (whispered): the cameras keep getting set back to loopback
mode
  JimmyHat (whispered): i change them but they change right back
  PenMan (just to JimmyHat): Can't you lock the camera config? 
  PenMan (just to JimmyHat): Change their admin password?
  JimmyHat (whispered): doesn't work that way 
  JimmyHat (whispered): if i invalidate the certificate we'll lose them
completely
  JimmyHat (whispered): ok 57's back
  PenMan (just to JimmyHat): it's still flickering
  JimmyHat (whispered): fuck1!! it must be polling
  JimmyHat (whispered): i'm going to have to crash that system
  PenMan (just to JimmyHat): hurry

  Dammit! They were blind again.

  "Ricky, I'm at the top of the stairs. Talk to me. Where is she?"
  "We lost the cameras. We're blind in that whole wing. Jimmy's trying
to get them back."
  "How long?"
  "I don't know. Minutes, maybe."
  "I can't wait; I'm going in. Get Eric up here for backup."
  "Dad, be careful."
  Click.

  Ricky watched his dad walk out of frame on camera 32 and seemingly
disappear into thin air.


------------------------------------------------------------------------


  Ginger stood, looking in the full-length mirror on the wall next to
the bar.

  I look ridiculous.

  The form-fitting servant's tuxedo clashed with the outre jewely.

  Who cares how it looks? As long as it works.

  That's the problem. It *doesn't* work! They might as well be made of
plastic! What's the trick?

  The woman kept examining the stones on her wrists, the mesh bands to
which they were attached. There were no buttons, no switches, nothing
at all technological about them. They looked like ordinary if
extravagant jewelry.

  And at the moment that was all they were.

  Ginger didn't know what she expected to feel, but she expected
*something*. The only thing she was feeling now was rage.

  That bitch tricked me!
  No. You took the stones from her yourself. You watched her use them.
You saw them work. If they hadn't worked, the girl would be a lifeless
bloody stain on the carpet right now.

  So why weren't they working now?
  How do you know they're not?
  Because I'm still *standing* here!
  So maybe there's some trick to flying. But how do you know the
forcefield isn't active?
  Because when I kicked the bar it *fucking* *hurt!* I think my toe
might be broken.

  And these shoes are murder. What does she wear, size five?
  Well, you wear an eight. You might need to get the gems fitted to
larger shoes. A lower heel wouldn't hurt either.
  There's nothing wrong with the heel, except that it's practicaly at
my arch. And maybe they only work on these shoes. Why else would that
bitch have stumbled around in these things?
  Well, they're not working at all right now.
  Fuck!

  Ginger was about to kick off the shoes and rip off the wristbands
when she heard a voice behind her.

  "Let's try this again."

  Ginger turned around to see the last person she expected: Angela
Barrett, big as life. Or as big as a slender mostly-naked barefoot girl
of five feet four inches could be. The big room seemed to swallow the
small girl. Still, she radiated a confidence -- no, a *cockiness* --
that belied her condition.


  Angela looked her adversary up and down. The gems seemed to glitter
angrily, as if protesting their use by such evil. The shoes were
obviously too small. And the ensemble clashed terribly with her outfit.
The woman had curiously changed from a red minidress into a tuxedo,
complete with bowtie. She looked almost manly. She looked like one of
the waiters she'd seen in the lounge the only other time she'd been
here. It occurred to Angela that that was probably the idea.


  Ginger addressed the petite intruder. "You've got a lot of guts
showing up back here. No brains, but a lot of guts. Of course, that
would describe Johnson and Johnson as well; whoever helped you escape
made quite a mess. Did they give you that gun as a souvenir?"

  Angela brushed aside the witty disparagements. "I know you don't have
Ricky. It's over."
  "Not hardly. The shoe's on the other foot now." Ginger raised a
gem-adorned foot for emphasis, nearly losing her balance in the process.
  "If the shoe doesn't fit, don't wear it," Angela deadpanned. She
raised the gun at Ginger. "Now if you don't mind, I'd like my stuff
back before it gets your nasty old funk all over it."

  "You of all people should know you can't hurt me with that," Ginger
sneered.

  Angela saw that Ginger was fully clothed. She clearly didn't have any
idea how the sapphires worked. Angela bluffed. "Not if you know how to
activate the forcefield. I'm betting you don't."

  Ginger craned her neck to the side for a moment before staring down
her opponent. "And I'm betting you don't know how to disengage the
safety on that gun. I bet you didn't even know you engaged it in the
first place."

  A bullet whizzed past her head; Ginger flinched. The mirror behind
her cracked. So the girl knew how to handle a pistol.

  Ginger turned pale. "Well, fuck me... It *was* you that killed them.
I didn't think you had it in you." A sick smile grew over her lips.
"Although I know *they* certainly had it in you..."

  Angela ignored the dig. "Wanna go double or nothing?" she spat. "I
bet I can lay you out with the next shot." The gun was leveled right at
Ginger's chest.

  "Okay," Ginger said slowly, practically licking her lips in
anticipation. "I bet *you* don't know where I've hidden the bombs in
this building. Or how to disable a biometric trigger."

  Horror was quickly tainted by confusion. "Biometric...?"

  Christ, what a bimbo! "Biometric trigger. It reads and responds to a
biological process. In this case, a heartbeat. Or more accurately, the
lack thereof."
  "So the minute your heart stops... a bomb goes off."
  "Actually it's about three seconds. Or I can press this button right
here," she held up what looked like a car alarm trigger, "and set it
off manually." 

  Now it was Angela who turned pale.

  Ginger gave mock comfort. "Oh, don't be so surprised. You didn't
really think I was a one-trick pony, did you? Now, put down the gun,
and maybe I'll spare you. Maybe I'll keep you as a pet. A fitting
position for the one who showed me how to... oh, dare I say it? Oh, why
not; if it feels good, do it... how to rule the world. Oh, my, that
does feel good saying it, no matter how silly it might sound."

  "You'll never get away with it," Angela said through clenched teeth,
still eyeing the older woman down the gun sight.

  "Oooh, hearing that cliche just gives me goose bumps! Okay, try this
on for size, honey: Who's going to stop me? You? You're nothing without
the sapphires. Of course, you were nothing with them."

  Angela raised her eyebrow. Maybe the sapphires worked differently on
this woman. Maybe instead of making her horny they simply made her
insane.

  "Now put the gun down before I turn this dance party into a
barbecue." Ginger held the small remote by its edges between her thumb
and forefinger.

  There was no telling how many tricks this woman had up her sleeve.
But that was just it. She'd tricked Angela before. How did she know
Ginger was telling the truth now? If she'd had such a device, why
didn't she just say so earlier? Why threaten Ricky instead when she
didn't even have him?

  "No more games," she said, the weapon still aimed squarely at
Ginger's chest.

  "I know what you're thinking," Ginger said, wagging her finger at the
younger woman. "Why didn't I tell you about the bomb before? Why did I
lie about holding your boyfriend?" She looked up to the ceiling as if
contemplating the question. "It's simple, sweetie. I just wanted to see
the look on your face. I wanted to know for sure that there was someone
else in your life, just so I could come back later and kill him right
in front of you. How does a week from Tuesday sound? Oh, wait, you'll
be in jail by then. You see, dear, I've rigged this whole affair to
look like it was your little sapphires that cause the explosion. I can
see the headlines now: 'Sapphire Slaughters Hundreds.' They can put it
on your headstone after they bury you. I believe capital punishment is
still in effect in this state. Though if you're really lucky you might
just get life in prison. I'll be sure to visit. I'll even bring you one
of Ricky's teeth every year on your birthday as a memento.

  "So go ahead, honey, fire away. *If* the sapphires don't protect me,
and *if* I'm lying about a bomb, you'll be a hero. But you have to ask
yourself -- does Ginger Hartwick seem like the type to come
unprepared?" Ginger's tone turned from mocking to withering. "And do
you really think I've been sitting here all this time just idly
*wondering* if the sapphires worked? Do you think I'm wearing these
torturous little mules because they're *comfortable*? Or do you suppose
it's possible I've actually *tested* the forcefield and I'm all dolled
up with these ridiculous trinkets because they *work*?" She turned
downright nasty. "Give it up, you little whore. The only thing you were
ever good for is a roll in the hay, and quite frankly you're used up."

  Angela stewed, but she knew the woman was right. The girl's eyes
narrowed with hatred. 
  "I had no idea you were so... mean."

  "Mean." Ginger laughed at the ridiculously sophomoric term. "Yes,
that's me, just a big ol' meanie." 

  Ginger's expression suddenly changed. She cocked her head slightly to
one side, as if she was listening for something. Or listening *to*
something; her eyes seemed to focus on something beyond the room for a
moment. "Fuck," she slipped. Something was wrong. But she quickly
regained her composure.

  "Now put down the gun before you hurt yourself."

  Angela's arm slumped, the gun hanging loosely at her side. Once again
she was a failure. Despite her best efforts -- and she really thought
she had Ginger fooled -- she'd been outmaneuvered again. She wasn't a
heroine. She was just a silly girl who was in way over her head.
Everything was in ruins, and it was all her fault. The sapphires. All
the chaos they'd caused. All the people who'd died at the hands of the
Black Widow and the Hunter. All the destruction the sapphires were sure
to cause in the hands of this madwoman. Angela was to blame for all of
it. She was just a dumb girl. A stupid slut. A bimbo.

  But worst of all in the eyes of the shattered teenager was that this
monster was responsible for her mother's death, and she was going to
get away with it.

  Tears welled up in Angela's eyes. The black handgun slowly raised
back up.

  Ginger looked down the barrel of a gun. And for the first time in a
long time, Ginger was afraid. "Are you insane? If you kill me the
entire building gets reduced to rubble."
  "I won't kill you," Angela said, her voice quivering not in fear, but
in distraught anger. She pulled the trigger, jumping slightly at the
report. Ginger fell to one knee, her left hand gripping her right
forearm.

  There was no blood, but there was tremendous pain. Ginger worried
that her arm had been broken.

  "You *shot* me!" Ginger looked with disbelief at the girl. 

  She remembered the beating she'd administered behind the crowbar --
so vicious her own hands still felt sore. If a single bullet hurt this
much, the torture this girl had suffered was unimaginable. How could
this frail young thing have recovered? She should have been a quivering
shell of emotional ruin, not a defiant young woman standing toe-to-toe
with the agent of her undoing.

  "Look," Ginger said, holding up her arm. "No blood. You can't stop
me, don't you understand that?" She stepped toward the girl, reaching
out for the weapon. "I'll kill you," she said, almost pleadingly.

  Angela let fly another bullet; the weapon's report fairly shook the
air...

  ...but the projectile that hit Ginger square in the chest felt like a
blow from a large blunt object. She stumbled backward, suddenly unable
to breathe.

  "What the fuck is wrong with you?" she wheezed.

  Angela pulled the trigger, again and again and again, knocking Ginger
further and further back, hands gripping her chest in a futile attempt
to relieve the searing pain. She crashed back against the bar, barely
able to stand. Angela stepped forward with each shot, until the hot
barrel of the weapon pressed between Ginger's tortured breasts.
Ginger's hand gripped the gun weakly as Angela pulled the trigger...

  ...to the sound of a hollow Click!

  Ginger pushed Angela away with all the strength she could muster; the
girl went back head-over-heels, crashing to the floor like a ragdoll.

  Ginger's lungs, sternum, ribs, breasts, shoulders, all were a single
undifferentiated ball of agony. Her body struggled against itself,
alternately gasping for breath and freezing, her hands clawing at her
bullet-riddled jacket and shredded shirt as if they were the source of
her respiratory distress. She ripped them off, standing there wheezing
in a powder-singed bra. She briefly looked down to see if the trigger
was still present; miraculously, it appeared undamaged. She checked her
good wrist to see the watch was also intact.

  Angela's hand found something cold and hard and slender beneath it.
Fingers grasped around the rough metallic object; she struggled to lift
it as she pushed herself to her knees. It was the crowbar.

  Ginger managed to subdue the crushing pain in her chest enough to
take careful breaths; she now stood, crossing the room slowly.

  This girl had just emptied an entire clip into her chest, and though
it hurt more than anything she'd experienced, she was still standing.
And possible cracked ribs aside, she was visibly undamaged. But the
teen had known what would happen; she knew she couldn't hurt Ginger, at
least not fatally, and she knew that with the aid of the sapphires
Ginger could break her in two. But Angela had attacked her anyway. Even
now, as the girl struggled to get to her feet, she brandished the very
crowbar that Ginger had used against her.

  Ginger Hartwick had truly underestimated Angela Barrett. Even in
certain defeat she refused to quit.

  And as the scheming woman crossed the room, feet jammed mercilessly
into too-small shoes, chest on fire, about to deliver a death blow to
this mere child who dared defy her, knowing she felt but a tiny
fraction of the power that the sapphires had seen fit to have bestowed
on this naive waif, feeling none of the glorious thrill she expected
from this moment, only a vague sense of admiration, envy, and pity, she
had an idea.


  Angela breathed deeply, fear long supplanted by a grim determination
that she would somehow stop the evil she had unleashed -- or die
trying. Maybe the sapphires didn't care that this woman was evil; maybe
they would try to protect Ginger Hartwick as they had protected Angela;
but if she couldn't prevent it, she would make sure the cost to this
wicked woman was terrible indeed.

  Slender fingers wrapped around the heavy crowbar, knuckles turning
white as the girl staggered to her feet, still doubled over but rising
inexorably. The curved end of the crowbar lifted from the floor...

  ...just as Ginger's hand grabbed it. She yanked it quickly as she
stepped back, pulling Angela forward to fall to her hands and knees;
the girl's grip on the crowbar slackened as her hands hit the floor.

  The crowbar clanged like a gong where it landed off in the corner of
the room.

  Angela brought one foot forward, hand on her knee, seeing only her
sapphire shoes on the feet of another woman in her field of vision,
determined to get up and face her killer one final time...

  ...when something blue and shimmering landed on the carpet in front
of her.

  Another fell next to it, blinking as it seemed to gaze up at her.

  Angela looked up imploringly.

  Ginger seemed to shrink a bit; Angela heard two soft thumps at her
feet. She looked back down.

  Ginger had kicked off the small stiletto mules. They now lay askew
between the two women, their brilliant blue orbs practically singing
with refracted light.

  Angela held Ginger's gaze, utterly bewildered. What was this?

  Ginger removed the tiara, extending it with her injured hand to the
would-be heroine. Angela stood forward, taking the mystical half-crown
in her trembling hand.

  "Put 'em on," Ginger instructed matter-of-factly. "You've got one
last job to do."

  Angela didn't understand.

  Ginger explained with a deadpan snarl. "Black Widow is on her way
here. And she's wearing *my* necklace. You've got..." she checked her
watch, an awkward move with one hand clamped over the other forearm,
"twenty-three minutes to bring all the sapphires to the north loading
dock entrance. If you're not there with your stones and hers, I blow up
the building. If I see anything that looks like an evacuation, I blow
up the building. If I see you or her leave, I blow up the building."
Ginger retreated to the bar.

  Angela was floored. But she wasn't going to question the woman. She
reached down, quickly slipping the bands over her wrists before
standing and slipping into the shoes. 
  Sapphire's shoes.
  *Her* shoes.

  A gentle rush of energy swept through the re-anointed heroine.

  But she felt a tinge of something... sinister. Like Ginger had
somehow infected the sapphires with her bitter evil. 

  Sapphire rose up from the floor, her body position becoming neutral
with weightlessness, butt back, knees and chest forward, toes pointed
down, elbows out, arms in front of her. The whole room basked in a
blue-green glow; the heroine closed her eyes, taking a deep breath as
her brow furrowed in concentration, then flexed all her muscles for an
instant, setting off a strobe flash of white. The room now glowed a
pure blue; Sapphire exhaled, taking on a serene look as she settled
back to her feet. 

  The superheroine's eyes snapped open. She eyed Ginger with regal
disdain.

  "I will do as you ask for now, but I will not rest until I have
defeated you," she said evenly.

  Ginger noted the use of uncharacteristically sophisticated language;
had the sapphires imbued the girl with a hero's pretension, or did it
merely bring out what was already inside her?

  "No doubt," Ginger said with a measured tone. "It's a good thing I'm
smarter than you."

  The comment elicited a fiery spark in Sapphire's eye; Ginger suddenly
felt fortunate it hadn't engendered a more physical response despite
the stakes.

  A shout came from the doorway. "Freeze!" The two women looked to the
source: Detective Noel Aquino, gun drawn and aimed at Ginger Hartwick.

  Ginger took advantage of the distraction, reaching under the bar for
her weapon.

  Sapphire saw only that Aquino was about to fire. "No," she commanded,
holding up her hand; Noel reeled against the wall.

  Ginger moved forward as Sapphire turned back toward her, her polished
hand cannon aimed squarely at the intruding officer. "Your timing
sucks."

  "No! Let him go!"

  With a flash, Sapphire flipped her hand, knocking Ginger off-balance.

  "Check that, superteen, I'm calling the shots here, remember?"

  Sapphire stepped to her right, blocking Ginger's shot. "No!" It
wasn't a request.

  Ginger held up the remote. "Back off!"
  Sapphire flipped her other hand; Ginger felt agonizing pain in her
forearm; her grip involuntarily released the remote.

  "No. You will let him go." 
  "Are you insane?" She looked down the barrel, her eye squinting for
unneeded precision.
  "No!"  Sapphire held up her hand; it was both a command to stop and a
threat to strike.
  "You'd risk a thousand lives for one cop." 
  The bejeweled heroine hesitated, but held her ground. "No more
killing," she pleaded.

  "Fine," Ginger said. She began to lower her weapon. Noel moved toward
the door. 

  "I'll only wound him." Blam! Noel staggered up against the doorframe.

  Sapphire snapped. With a furious blast she slammed Ginger back
against the wall; before the woman could fall, the superheroine had
leaped across the room, grabbing the older woman by the neck. A fierce
look burned from Sapphire's eyes as Ginger struggled weakly, pinned
against the wall by the superheroine's invisible force.

  Sapphire raised her right arm, elbow back, open palm next to her face
pointing at Ginger's head, poised to extinguish her.

  Ginger summoned her courage. "Now what?" She grinned nastily. This
heroine's hesitation was her undoing. If she'd struck instantly, Ginger
would be dead. And so would many innocent people. But a moment's pause
meant Sapphire had to consider what would happen next. She couldn't
condemn hundreds of people to die -- and if she killed Ginger, she knew
that's what would happen.

  Sapphire backed off but only slightly. Her eyes were open wide with
barely-controlled hatred.

  "Angela, she's not worth it." The voice came from behind her. It was
Noel.


  Noel pushed off the wall, turning his bad shoulder away from the
pair, leveling his weapon against Ginger in his good hand. Only now did
he recognize that the wrong woman was wearing the sapphires -- well,
not the wrong woman, but certainly not the one he'd expected. He wasn't
going to ask how Angela had pulled that off...

  Ginger scoffed. "Jesus, Aquino, could you *be* any more cliche?" 
  Sapphire didn't need his help; she would handle this. "Mr. Aquino,
get out." 
  "Angela, no." 
  "You don't understand. I'm not going to kill her. I need you to warn
Gerald Bates. The Black Widow is coming."

  "B-but she's dead."
  Ginger spoke up. "You'd think so, but apparently she's as hard to
kill as your boy's little girlfriend here. Now, if you'll excuse us,
she's got a job to do, and you're holding up the works."

  Noel called to Sapphire one last time. "You sure you'll be all right,
Angela?"
  "My name is Sapphire. And I'll be fine. Just go."

  Sapphire stared Ginger down until she heard Noel was gone.

  Ginger sneered. "Now be a good little bitch and fetch me those
stones." Sapphire released her grip on the older woman and took a step
back. Ginger rubbed her neck where Sapphire had almost choked her. She
checked her watch. "You've now got twenty-one minutes."

  "And when you get the sapphires, you'll disarm the bomb."
  "That's right."
  "How do I know you'll keep your word?" 
  "You don't. You're my bitch until I say you're not. Deal with it."

  Angela looked to the floor. She had no choice. "Fine."

  "Now make with the flying thing and get me my jewels." Ginger opened
the sliding door to the balcony and made a brushing-away motion with
her hand.

  Sapphire flitted up to the edge of the balcony. "You are..." she
hesitated, searching for the right word.

  "Yes?" Ginger prompted, eager to hear what the naive teen could
muster.

  "...Diabolical."

  "I know." Ginger smiled a sinister smile.

  And in a rush of air, Sapphire was gone.


------------------------------------------------------------------------


  "Fuck."
  "Ginger, what do you want me to do?" But the commlink was silent.

  Rosewood's hand was still held up to his ear when he felt the barrel
press into the base of his neck.
  "Lockwell."
  "Rosewood."
  "You know it's nothing personal, right?"
  "Give me your commlink. Slowly."
  Rosewood's hands trembled as he fished the transmitter out of his
pocket. He pulled the other piece out of his ear and held the pair over
his shoulder. Eric took it.
  "What now?"
  "I kill you."
  Rosewood's pulse raced. This was it. There was no getting out of this
one.
  "You can't kill us all. Nobody's that good," he squeaked.
  "You must be the new guy."

  Eric sliced through the crowd, leaving Rosewood's lifeless body
propped up by a throng of dancers.


------------------------------------------------------------------------


  Cooper spoke, apparently to no one. "Hey, I got us a volunteer. I
think she's even cuter than the original. It's a shame we don't have
time for a more personal interview."
  The voice in his ear was overdigitized but recognizably female.
"Ditch her, Cooper. Plans have changed."
  "But what about the 'show?'"
  "The Black Widow is coming."
  "But she's..." 
  "Ditch the girl. *NOW*." 

  Cooper turned to his faux Sapphire. "Sorry, sweetie, the show's been
cancelled. Here's a hundred bucks; keep your mouth shut, okay?"
  "Will I see you later?"
  "I don't think my wife would approve."

  The girl stormed off in a huff. Cooper put his hand to his ear to
hear Ginger better. "All right, she's gone. Did you say you cracked the
window above me?" She couldn't have said what he thought he'd heard.
  "No. The Black Widow is coming."
  "But she's *dead*."
  "Rosewood said Taggert saw her at the airport. The stones she gave
us, the ones that Andrew stole and Taggert stole back are fakes."
  "Motherfucker." Cooper tried to figure out what that meant. "So what
do we do now?"
  "Relax. Our superteen came back. She's gonna take care of it."
  "How? She doesn't have the... You know."
  "I gave 'em back."
  "You *WHAT*?" Several people turned and looked at Cooper with
hostility. He moved toward an empty spot near the wall, out of the
whitewater throng of partygoers.
  "I gave Sapphire the stones. I couldn't make them work or I would
have taken care of Black Widow myself. Relax, it's just a loan.
Everything's under control."
  "How so?"
  "I told her to dispatch that meddlesome spider and meet me at the
loading dock in twenty minutes to surrender all the sapphires at the
loading dock or I'll blow up the building. See? Always have a backup
plan. Now go bring the car around to the northeast corner of the
building; I'll meet you there. Don't stop for anything." 
  Cooper was surprised at Ginger's confidence. "So you really think
Sapphire is going to stop Black Widow, take her sapphires, and give
them all to you?"
  "Honey, you haven't been paying attention. Sapphire kicked Black
Widow's ass once already. Besides, she's a superheroine. She doesn't
have a choice."
  "Jesus, Ginger, you really are playing with fire. Did it ever occur
to you that she might be twice as powerful with all the stones? And
she's gonna be major pissed."

  Ginger fingered the radio detonator in the palm of her good hand.
"Superheroines don't commit hundreds of innocents to die. She'll do
whatever the fuck I tell her."


------------------------------------------------------------------------


  PenMan: any sign of Ginger?
  JemFan: nope
  DiamondGrrl: sorry
  BluePrincess: 8(
  DarkestKnight: not in the thirty seconds since you alst asked
  DarkestKnight: er last asked
  JimmyHat: no, but check out the pimp on #6
  PenMan: That's not a pimp, that's a cop
  JimmyHat: we'll talk later pm
  JemFan: woah 5 0

  Detective Miguel Rubio pushed his way through the line of people
waiting to pass through metal detectors at the front entrance. "Out of
the way, police business -- step aside ma'am -- look out, coming
through -- police business."

  Officer Mahoney wore a sheepish grin as he followed in Rubio's wake.
Didn't the detective know he could have just gone in the service
entrance? Probably, but then he wouldn't get to be a big shot in front
of nearly as many people.

  Rubio swaggered through the metal detector, looking quite pleased at
its shrill alarm. He waited for the security guard to react before
flipping open his trenchcoat -- didn't the guy know it was still
summer? -- to flash his badge.

  DiamondGrrl: is he on our side??
  BluePrincess: noway!! he wants to arrest sapphrie!!
  JemFan: booo!!
  DiamondGrrl: so howdid he know to come here??
  BluePrincess: no kiddding
  PenMan: he probably tailed my dad
  PenMan: he's been busting his balls for weeks
  PenMan: I think he's jealous of my dad.

  "We have reason to believe that a dangerous fugitive is seeking
refuge here," Rubio announced.
  Officer Mahoney wondered to himself, had Rubio been thinking up that
line all evening, or did that kind of self-important TV cop shit just
come naturally?

  DiamondGrrl: so hes a dirty cop
  PenMan: I think so, but my dad won't say.
  DarkestKnight: well we wont let him get his grubby mits on our
Sapphire
  JemFan: ya u go knight1!!

  "You start the search with a quick sweep of the service areas. I'll
go alert the police liaison here of the situation and enlist the help
of his detachment."
  "You could have just radio'd ahead," Mahoney pointed out helpfully.
But of course if he'd done that there was a possibility that someone
would collar the bejeweled vigilante before he showed up, and where was
the glory in that?

  Rubio took on a father-at-the-end-of-his-patience look. "I didn't
want to take a chance of alerting her prematurely to our presence. The
object is to catch her, not scare her off."
  Mahoney was beginning to see that Rubio had a spin for everything.

  "So, detective, what exactly am I looking for?" Like he was going to
find a notorious vigilante in the kitchen anyway...
  "An attractive teenage girl wearing big blue jewelry and a crown on
her head. She shouldn't be hard to spot." Rubio turned to leave.

  DarkestKnight: if i cant have her he cant either
  JemFan: woa chill dk u no pm got dibs
  DarkestKnight: all talk no action
  DarkestKnight: no offence pm
  DarkestKnight: but if i hada chance id take it
  DarkestKnight: an no redbloooded male would blame me
  BluePrincess: behave d*ck!!

  Mahoney grabbed Rubio's sleeve before he could take a step. "There
she is," he pointed.


  Rubio looked down Mahoney's arm; there, at the base of the large Man
Wielding Hammer statue, a slender girl with big breasts and straight
black hair tossing about as she looked around, seemingly scanning the
horizon for trouble, dressed in a flippy miniskirt and matching top.
Even from here, Rubio could make out something shiny perched above her
forehead... and flashy blue orbs dangling from her wrists.

  PenMan: let's just keep an eye on Rubio, ok?
  DiamondGrrl: whose rubio
  JimmyHat: the cop
  JemFan: the cop
  BluePrincess: the pimpcop
  DarkestKnight: so which is it??
  BluePrincess: jh sez both ;)
  BluePrincess: but he wont spil details :( :(
  DiamondGrrl: sounds dirty 2 me
  JemFan: hey whats he pointin gat??
  Rubio was taken aback; he hadn't expected it to be this easy. "Well,
all right," he said gruffly, "let's go get her. Give me a minute to
work my way around to the side there, then when I give you the signal-"
  "There she is," Mahoney interrupted, pointing off in another
direction.
  Rubio was confused; was Mahoney nuts? "What are you talking about?"
  "And there. Oh, and over there, too."

  Rubio struggled for a moment to follow Mahoney's rapid-fire pointing,
until he took a wider view... 

  ...and saw that Sapphire was everywhere.

  DarkestKnight: nothing..thats not her
  DarkestKnight: just another lokkalike
  BluePrincess: whew1!
  DarkestKnight: er lookalike
  DiamondGrrl: haha dk sticky keybd?
  DarkestKnight: shutup
  JemFan: hahahayea spankin 2 pms sapphre drawings
  BluePrincess: ur 1 too talk dg!!
  DarkestKnight: like u dont typo
  BluePrincess: u drool over them more then NE1
  JemFan: busted
  DiamondGrrl: well she is hot
  DarkestKnight: my fantasy just became a 3way
  DiamondGrrl: eww!!
  PenMan: Hey guys, this is serious. Stay focused.
  PenMan: Sapphire needs us.
  BluePrincess: sorry
  DarkestKnight: <-- multitasking

  "What the fuck is this shit?" he spat, his eyes narrowing, face
tightening up like a man suffering from mental constipation. He'd
spotted nearly a dozen Sapphires already, and that was just the part of
the floor he could see from here...

  JemFan: hey he looks PIssed!!
  BluePrincess: good :P
  "Didn't you know? A lot of people think of this as a costume party. I
guess Sapphire is a popular theme this year. Oh hey, look over there,
there's Black Widow."

  "What?" Rubio shrieked with a start.
  "Oh, and there's another one."
  Rubio calmed down; it wasn't *the* Black Widow; she was dead of
course. Just lots of women -- and from the looks of it, a few
effeminate-looking men as well -- donning blue necklaces and some
variation on skimpy black under flashy bright colors.

  "How the fuck am I supposed to find Sapphire in this... this...
zoo?!?"
  "Well, unless the DJ cues up some Lionel Ritchie and one of these
girls spreads her wings and starts dancing on the ceiling, I think
we're fucked." Mahoney didn't seem too upset.


------------------------------------------------------------------------


  JemFan: cooper on 14!!
  DarkestKnight: wheres eric
  BluePrincess: 17
  DiamondGrrl: this should be good

  There he was, just passing the giant fish erected behind one of the
side dance platforms. He moved with the flow of the crowd along one of
the spontaneously-evolved human rivers that divided and connected the
discrete pockets of revelry within the huge hall.

  Right behind a really big dude in leather. Eric could just make out
Cooper's tight fro, glistening with a mixture of sweat and hair
products, bobbing up and down from behind the big leather-clad shoulder.

  In another twenty yards, he would pass right by; and in another
second, it would be all over for another of Ginger's bodyguards.

  Eric bumped past a dark suit wrapped around some very broad
shoulders. A moment later he felt himself wheeled around. And he felt a
gun at his back.

  "I thought I recognized you," the thug said. "Skippy says hi."

  Fuck! Of all the amateur moves... "Listen, you're making a mistake."
Eric glanced worriedly over his shoulder.
  "No, you're the one who's made a mistake. What, you thought gettin'
Skippy thrown in jail for the night gave you free reign? Those walls
talk, and word travels fast, sport."
  "No, you don't understand. I'm not here for Bates; it's
complicated..." Eric struggled to wrestle free of the bigger man's
grip, all the while trying frantically to see where Cooper was...

  "Hey, motherfucker! Let him go!" The voice came from their right.
Eric looked over to see Cooper, weapon drawn and leveled. The crowd
instantly cleared.

  "I don't think so," Thug spat. "Put it down or your friend here gets
it."
  Eric was desperate. "Um, I'm not his friend..."

  Cooper stared Eric down, shifting his aim so that it was clear he
wanted Eric, not the thug. Thug was befuddled, but Eric felt the weapon
retreat from his back.

  "This is for Burnett," Cooper hissed.

  Eric flinched, knowing what was to come.

  He heard the first gunshot, followed quickly by two more; but he felt
nothing.

  Cooper looked down at the bright red splotches growing on his shirt.
A pregnant moment later he collapsed to the floor; several partygoers
gasped.

  Eric looked behind where Cooper had been standing. Noel Aquino stood,
arm still out, his Glock only now retreating from the firing position.

  "Sorry I'm late," he said.

  Another thug slipped up behind Noel, gun in his back. He reached up
from behind Noel to take his piece. "All right, that's enough gunplay
for one night. Let's all take a walk."


  Ricky watched the feed in helpless horror. Ginger had disappeared;
his dad hadn't found Angela; and now he and Eric were being led away by
Security. It was over. And his precious Angela was nowhere to be found.
All he could do now was watch the monitors and hope someone found her.
Watch and hope she was okay.

  Ricky stood up, his fists balling tightly at his sides.

  Like hell...


------------------------------------------------------------------------


  "And now, ladies and gentlemen, your attention please. It's time to
get this party started!" A few shouts rose above the general buzz of
the cavernous hall. "Here to remind us why we're all here tonight -- a
man who was recently reminded how lucky we are to be alive in such an
exciting time -- I give you successful entrepeneur, titan in the
shipping industry, and friend to Labor, Mr. Gerald Bates!"

  The music faded. There was more than the usual polite applause;
apparently the incident with Valerie Strain *had* raised his stock, at
least among the younger set.

  Gerald Bates leaned over to one of his personal guards as he looked
over the crowd. "It's eerie looking out there. So many young women
dressed up in skimpy black outfits. It's like they're trying to look
like the Black Widow."
  "I'm sure they are, sir. She and Sapphire are quite the pop icons."
  "Don't they care that she's a killer?"
  "Some would say she's just a very committed supporter of women's
rights."

  A small headset-wearing man nudged Bates. "Okay, Mr. Bates, it's
time."

  Bates stepped up to the podium, giving the crowd an enthusiastic wave
not unlike a triumphant politician.

  "I know the last thing you want to hear right now is a speech from
some old man," Bates began, adjusting the microphone to fit him.
  "Shut up and dance!" someone shouted. Bates smiled.
  "So I'll be brief. Everyone is here to have a good time..."
  "Yeah!" several cheered.
  "...so as you're partying your *asses* off..."
  The crowd cheered again at the mild profanity, unexpected from such a
respected community leader... or a wiseguy trying to look like one...
but Bates knew how to handle a crowd...
  "Remember that it's your hard work, and the hard work of your
parents, that built this place, and this great city."
  More cheers.
  "I'm proud to work with you, and I look forward to building a great
future together."

  Bates surveyed the crowd, his chest puffed out. Right now, he felt
like this city would give him anything he wanted.

  "Now if I see any of you at the barbecue tomorrow and you're not
dragging ass," again the crowd reacted boisterously, "I'll know you
didn't have any fun at my party! So Mister DJ, do an old man a favor,
cue up a classic, and turn it up until the walls come down!"

  The mobster's fist pumped the air absurdly, but the crowd was so
ready to go, they embraced the gesture with a wall of human sound.

  The slow thumping of an increasingly-distorted guitar and a lone
cymbal crash built expectations... 

  ...until a record-scratch triggered the first lyric of the neoclassic
club smash, electrifying the crowd: 

  Listen all you mothuhfuckahs!

  The building shook in a thunder of drums.


  That's the name of the game!
  That's the name of the game!

  Yo
  Top of the crown
  Rape the queen
  The fatal mistake in your cradle
  Can't shake the dreams of
  Fire inside of your phonograph
  Battered with gas
  And give you room to breathe
  Through an adequate mask
  Everybody in front
  Let me see ya pumpin' ya fists
  If you up in the back room 
  When you rockin' with this
  Come on
  Keepin' ya speaker knockin'
  Jumpin' bangin' bumpin' blazin'
  Hot

  Callin' all freaks...


------------------------------------------------------------------------


  JemFan: looK!! IT"S SAPPHJIRE!
  BluePrincess: where??
  JemFan: #20
  JemFan: blacony
  JimmyHat: got her
  JemFan: er balcony
  BluePrincess: YAY!!
  DarkestKnight: damn shes hot
  JemFan: b nice!
  DiamondGrrl: shes PM"s girl
  DarkestKnight: oh sorry pm
  DiamondGrrl: and im next in line :)
  JemFan: notty dg :O
  DarkestKnight: but shes still hot
  DiamondGrrl: hey PM< where u at??
  JimmyHat: he's not answering
  DarkestKnight: kids, your not gonna like this....
  DarkestKnight: check #4
  JemFan: what
  BluePrincess: omigod is that pm???
  JimmyHat: holy shit
  JimmyHat: wtf is he doing there?
  DiamondGrrl: screw this im going to
  *DiamondGrrl has left the room.
  JemFan: waitup!!
  JemFan: cu there!!
  *JemFan has left the room.
  JimmyHat: WAIT
  JimmyHat: he might need our help
  DarkestKnight: thats why im going
  DarkestKnight: i can be there in 20
  DarkestKnight: l8r
  *DarkestKnight has left the room.
  BluePrincess: comeon jh, theirs nobody left 2 spot 4
  JimmyHat: shit
  BluePrincess: what do u look like??
  BluePrincess: ill meet u
  JimmyHat: i'm staying here in case pm calls
  BluePrincess: okcubye
  *BluePrincess has left the room.

  "Sir, we should go."
  "Why?" Bates bellowed, indignant. "The party's just getting started."
Just because he wasn't in his twenties didn't mean he couldn't be cool
and hang out. This was, after all, a PR affair.
  "There have been threats against you."
  "Relax. They've been taken care of," Bates dismissed, referring to
the pair of assassins that he'd been told had just been apprehended.
"They're being held for questioning as we speak."
  "Still, just to be safe..."
  "Look, Mr. Stiffler, if I go running off the stage right now people
will think there's something to be afraid of. Gerald Bates is not
afraid of anyone. Now, tell your men to back off; you're suffocating
me. I'm going to stay here a while. I want to meet this DJ from New
York; I've heard she's a sight to behold."
  "She's in her thirties, sir. Don't you like them a little younger?"
  "Maybe she has a daughter," Bates winked, giving the slender
bodyguard a jab in the ribs. "Now, leave me!"
  Stiffler backed away in stunned silence. This man was in a roomful of
gyrating, drug-altered young beauties, any of which could be whisked to
a private room with nothing more than a nod and fucked till dawn and
they probably wouldn't remember anything, and yet he wanted something
he couldn't have. Not even a girl, but an idea of a girl.

  One day it would be his downfall.


------------------------------------------------------------------------


  Sapphire circulated through the building, noting with surprise the
number of times she saw herself -- or at least, flattering copies of
herself. But she was not the only source of inspiration for the night's
racy party wear. At least a half-dozen times she'd been ready to pounce
on the Black Widow only to find that it was merely the affectation of
another hearty partier.

  She didn't know how she would spot the real thing. On the other hand,
she had little to fear from the swarm of security, who were no doubt
eager to claim the $5,000 price still on her head.

  But speaking of other hands... there was no shortage of opportunistic
hands being laid on her as she worked through the crowd, feeling her up
in most distracting fashion... didn't her body know this was hardly the
time to get all hot and bothered!

  She worked through the balcony lounge, hoping to get to the railing
to get a better view of the main floor below. The music up here was
decidedly retro -- something 80s, she thought, like from an old spy
movie.

  Meeting you with a view to a kill face to face in secret places feel
the chill
  Nightfall covers me but you know the plans I'm making
  Still over sea could it be the whole earth opening wide
  A sacred why a mystery gaping inside the weekends why until we

  Dance into the fire that fatal kiss is all we need
  Dance in the the fire to fatal sounds of broken dreams
  Dance in to the fire that fatal kiss is all we need dance into the
fire

  Black Widow was nowhere to be found. Maybe she wasn't really coming.
Maybe this was some kind of misdirection. But why else would Ginger
have spared her, and given her sapphires back? Even if the Black Widow
was here, what would Ginger have to fear with sapphires of her own? It
didn't make much sense.

  But even with the sapphires Ginger had clearly been hurt. Maybe they
worked for her, just not very well. Sapphire thought only briefly that
the sapphires might perform less than optimally for her now. Despite
everything she'd been through, despite the knowledge that if Ginger had
her way this was but a temporary reprieve, Sapphire felt a vibrant
sense of purpose she'd never felt so strongly before. 

  Maybe something had happened between Ginger and Black Widow. Maybe
Ginger feared the dark vigilante. No doubt Black Widow would kill
Ginger if she got the chance -- the turncoat agent had tried to kill
the supernatural villain, after all. Sapphire found herself in the
unenviable position of defending the very woman who sought to destroy
her, if only temporarily to prevent immediate disaster.

  But once this was settled, it wouldn't be Black Widow that Ginger
would fear. 

  It would be Sapphire.

  Choice for you is the view to a kill between the shades assasination
standing still
  First crystal tears fall of snowflakes on your body
  First time in years to drench your skin with lovers rosy stain
  A chance to find a phoenix for the flame a chance to die but can we

  Dance into the fire that fatal kiss is all we need
  Dance into the fire to fatal sounds of broken dreams
  Dance into the fire that fatal kiss is all we need
  Dance into the fire when all we see is the view to a kill

  Finally to the railing, Sapphire looked out over an endless teeming
mass of people.

  There was no way she'd find the Black Widow here. Sapphire would have
to wait until the hate-seeking missile struck its target. And then it
would be too late, for Bates at least. And as insignificant as he might
be in the grand scheme of the sapphires' present drama, Sapphire hated
to think her reticence would result in his death.

  The 80s tune faded; dancing slowed; some of the more sober people
looked around. The sound system synchronized with the huge amps on the
main floor as a quiet, subtly fluctuating chord of ethereal sine waves
permeated the building.

  Suddenly all the lights went out. The huge hall was pitch black save
a sprinkling of glowsticks and soundboard LEDs. 

  And Sapphire's stones.

  The crowd backed away from her in awe, recognizing this seemingly
fragile girl by fearsome reputation.

  She looked down, surprised at their brightness in what she thought
would be a mostly-dormant state.

  A dim red light came up slowly, just enough to see fog machines
blanket the floor in gothic ambience.

  "Ladies and gentlemen, the Alluring Enduring Party is proud to
present, direct from New York's Club Hurricane... DJ Storm!"

  The sine waves multiplied, an electronic string section seesawing
slowly back and forth between two notes above a deep string bass,
building an eery mood; the crowd was unexpectedly silent save a few
random whoops.

  Sapphire glided like a feather to the edge of the balcony. She now
knew what she was looking for. Her eyes scanned the dim red haze,
looking over the simmering cauldron of humanity for a telltale beacon.

  And there she saw it. A bright blue ring of light emanating from a
dark form. Some fifty yards out, striding brazenly through the
expectently-swaying people who were waiting for the dance beat that was
sure to come, a wicked Moses parting the red sea to deliver her
vengeance upon an unsuspecting criminal.

  The Black Widow.

  Sapphire looked down. The main stage was directly below her. Bates
seemed to be looking off to one side, hand to his eyes as if to bring
clarity to the foggy crimson glow. Behind him, dark shadows pushed
people aside furiously, suits scrambling toward him. 

  The sound began to wah and flutter more and more rapidly before being
joined by a percussive, processed synth-guitar hammering an
anticipatory dance rhythm like a digital woodpecker.

  As if taking a cue from the music, Black Widow broke into a run, long
limbs pumping, moving with a sprinter's speed, ripping through the
crowd as though they weren't there, sending bodies crashing to each
side in an expanding wake.

  She was going to kill him. Here. Now. And despite frantic
gesticulations from his too-distant bodyguards, he didn't even see it
coming.

  Sapphire dove off the balcony; a few people in the crowd pointed up
in amazement as the heroine streaked toward the base of the stage,
somersaulting in mid-air, a blazing blue comet of righteousness
slamming to the ground on two feet, directly in front of the
fast-charging glowing assassin.

  And a sudden thunder of bass shook the building beneath a furious
driving beat.


   



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Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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