Dress Off 04: The Rescue of Tess

Harrington took a couple of steps towards them, and then dismissively waved her hand at the two guards who'd remained by the door.

"You won't be needed any more. Take your positions outside. When I need you, I will call. Stay out until then. These fine ladies will do me no harm, especially since they are so keen to catch up with Tess, and it would be so deeply unfortunate if something was to happen to Tess before I cared to arrange that. We are not to be interrupted." At that last point, she dragged her gaze away from where it had currently settled on Erin's upper thighs, and she fixed an unblinking stare on the guards. "No interruptions. No exceptions. Go!"

The guards saluted briskly, and quickly exited the room, clearly more than relieved to be somewhere other than here, despite the remarkable nude beauties on display. As the door swung behind shut the retreating guards, Stacey heard the undeniable click of a lock. Stacey kept her eyes staring at the far wall directly in front of her, and made a show of completely ignoring Harrington as the woman walked a slow, long path around them until she was positioned behind them, between the two agents and the only way out.

The next few seconds seemed to stretch into hours, as Stacey and Erin remained fixed on the spot, and Harrington seemed lost in contemplation.

"So." Harrington said, finally breaking the conversational impasse. "Here we all are. You know, having followed your recent exploits on the streets outside, I feel like I know you both like dear old friends, and yet I have to confess I don't even know your names."

"Shackleton. Stacey Shackleton." Stacey replied, before falling silent again. Beside her, Erin lifted her chin up slightly, and seemed to straighten up even further, as she attempted to show utmost contempt for their host with only three words.

"Masterton. Erin Masterton." she said, and then almost surprised herself as she felt an unbidden smile of grim defiance sweep across her beautiful lips.

"Well Stacey and Erin. Welcome to one of my modest facilities. I hope my name is no secret to you."

"No it isn't Harrington." Stacey replied, deliberately keeping her voice flat and emotionless. "HQ knew your fingerprints were all over this the moment we chatted with your accomplices." Stacey paused for a moment, and then continued with a slight mocking tone entering her voice. "I think they referred to something as the 'Harrington Effect: a blend of sheer dumb luck, blind arrogance, and a massive over-confidence in one's own modest abilities'."

Harrington broke out in an unpleasant laugh, and Stacey felt her come in close behind her, Harrington's breath tickling the back of Stacey's shoulders in a wholly uncomfortable way.

"Oh, my dear sweet Stacey." Harrington half-whispered. "I'll happily confess I do feel somewhat modestly equipped in comparison to two such magnificent models of modern-day womanhood. Here I am, a simple woman in a simple business suit, made to feel so inadequate in the presence of two formidable agents sporting their finest birthday suits. How will I ever cope!" Harrington almost spat out the last few words.

As Stacey involuntarily flinched from the venom in the Harrington voice, mere inches as she was their taunting host, she felt the woman's hand connect forcefully with her backside. Stacey gasped in surprise before she could regain her balance, and staggered forward a step. Beside her, Erin clenched her jaw as she mentally fought the urge to strike down Harrington where she stood.

"How will I possibly learn to live with my own inadequacies!"

This time it was Erin who received the treatment from Harrington, as the raven-haired woman delivered a hard spank on Erin's exposed and defenceless bottom. This time at least Erin managed to steel herself to the expected blow, and maintained as dignified a pose as she could manage in her current attire.

"Thanks." Stacey said, barely controlling the snarl in her tone, "You're finally making this trip worthwhile!"

Harrington seemed to pause for a moment, and fell silent behind them.

"Well Stacey," she continued eventually, "I do take solace in being an accommodating host."

The faint clink of metal on metal seemed to ring out for a couple of moments as Harrington seemed to extract something from a hidden pocket of her business suit, and Stacey and Erin then heard the unmistakable click of heel on floor as Harrington made another wide circuit around them, eventually facing them from a distance of three meters.

Stacey and Erin looked briefly at the woman, trying not to betray any emotion in their eyes, before they glanced down and noticed the objects Harrington held in each hand. Harrington saw them notice what she was carrying, and lifted her hands out in front of her to offer the two women a better look. In each hand, a pair of silver handcuffs with exquisitely thin chains hung from her outstretched fingertips, and with a flourish Harrington flipped each pair of handcuffs so that she ended up holding out both handcuffs in both hands, seemingly straining to break the chains that connected each cuff.

"They do look exquisite don't they? But please don't make the mistake of thinking they are fragile. Stronger women than you have found these handcuffs more than up to any challenge they could offer."

Harrington smirked, and then tossed a pair of handcuffs to each of Stacey and Erin. The two agents gracefully caught them, and simply looked at Harrington with a neutral countenance.

"I'm afraid that a conscientious host is also a careful host, and I fear there is one last security detail that I must take care of. Please put on the cuffs, my dears, while I fetch a few other minor tools of the trade."

Stacey and Erin shared a look, and Stacey's slight shrug and faintly resigned expression was all Erin needed to know that they were going to have to play this out. As they slipped on the cuffs and heard them close shut with a click, they could sense that the thinness of the cuffs belied the quality of the devices. These weren't coming off without the key.

As they settled back into their original stance, calling on all their reserves of defiance, Harrington retrieved a couple of equally thin necklaces from a secret compartment under part of the meeting room's large conference table. Making a show of displaying them to the two agents for inspection, she purposefully walked back behind them again, and began to play at the necklaces' clasps. The necklaces had been of a simple yet elegant silver design just like the handcuffs, and in other circumstances the two women may have admitted that they were beautiful in their own understated, restrained way.

Harrington now made an exaggerated gesture of gently placing the necklaces around each agent's neck, practically caressing their shoulders with a light, tantalising touch as she smoothly swept their hair aside.

"Wonderful!" Harrington exclaimed, almost excitedly. "Quite beautiful, I'm sure you'd agree, and they match your accessories so perfectly!"

Harrington then pushed up against Stacey's back, and nearly rested her chin on Stacey's shoulder as she teasingly ran her hands down Stacey's arms until Harrington's hands arrived at the handcuffs. Slowly but firmly, Harrington then brought Stacey's hands up in front of her, making sure that her finger tips brushed up against Stacey's breasts, and traced a line from bottom to top that deliberately ran over her now very sensitive nipples. As Harrington playfully pressed Stacey's earlobe with her lips, she finally brought Stacey's hands to rest on the top of the brunette secret agent's head, and then took the chain connecting the cuffs behind her. With a sudden and effective movement, Harrington clipped something small on to both the back of the necklace and the handcuffs chain, and Stacey immediately realised that her hands were now effectively secured to her neck, and that she wouldn't be able to get her hands down much below the level of her collarbone.

Barely a minute later, and with Erin now experiencing the same indignity, they heard Harrington's footsteps as she once again came around to face them.

"Stacey, Erin. You're probably wondering what the handcuffs are for. Especially since I'm sure we all agree that you're far too smart to risk worsening Tess' current predicament by trying to attack me. However, sadly I can't risk you smuggling any tracking beacons into where I'll soon be taking you to. It wouldn't pay for some of your colleagues to rudely interrupt us when we have so much to discuss."

Stacey snorted derisively and cast an eye over her own naked form. "I think any tracking beacons we have can safely assumed to be in that damned car."

"Well," Harrington replied, with a thin smile creasing the edges of her mouth, "you see the naive operative would certainly make the assumption that the two of you are bereft of any equipment. However, we all know that the resourceful woman has a few... well... additional places to store that which we wouldn't want confiscated..."

With one smooth movement, Harrington suddenly produced a medical glove from another pocket inside her suit, and then slipped it onto a hand, snapping the glove's fingers one by one in the most theatrical way imaginable. Stacey and Erin's eyes widened as they both independently realised where this was heading.

"I do so regret it comes down to this, but please do take it as a token of my appreciation for your ingenuity."

Stacey closed her eyes as Harrington approached softly, and began to slowly, almost lovingly run a gloved finger up her inner thigh. Arriving finally at her crotch, Harrington paused for the briefest of moments before beginning to trace around the edges of Stacey's light brown hair, taking a moment to rest on a particular spot, before then continuing on, occasionally changing direction, sometimes slowing down, before speeding up again in a remorseless fashion. As she saw Stacey's jaw visibly clench again, Harrington smirked to herself and then playfully ran two fingers underneath her and between her two ass cheeks.

"So please rest assured that these handcuffs merely stop you from accidentally reacting in a way you'd regret. And since I'm nothing if not a lady, how about I let you choose if we start with your pussy, or your ass?"

Even with her eyes tightly closed, Stacey could see the smile widen on Harrington's face, as the fingers continued their ceaseless, probing dance.

*******

The moon glistened brightly in the midnight sky over Vancouver. Silence reigned, except for the occasional footsteps of a security patrol doing a cursory check of the surroundings. The cold night meant that the security team weren't interested in dawdling, and it was never too long before the rapidly moving footsteps disappeared back inside one of the small buildings scattered across the compound. Only the faintest noise of the sea lapping onto the nearby shore persisted for long.

Against the moonlit backdrop of the winter night, the place again seemed utterly deserted until, as if like two near-invisible snowflakes falling by their lonesome out of an otherwise cloudless sky, two black-clad figures landed with pinpoint precision on the roof of the compound's two-story residential building. The two figures instantly extracted themselves from their parachutes, and expertly gathered up the material before stashing it away where it would be unlikely to roll off on to the ground below.

One of the figures gracefully dashed over to the edge of the roof, footsteps making no sound as the intruder cast an expert glance around the place to see if their entrance had been detected.

With a quick hand signal, the lead figure indicated to their companion that all was clear. The companion replied with their own hand signal, and pointed at a small door on the roof. The two figures darted across the roof and arrived at the door together, with one smoothly extracting a small toolkit from some hidden compartment in their outfits. With a flick of a wrist, the tool was inserted into the door lock, and with a barely perceptible click, the door swung open. Had anyone been observing that roof, they would have seen a shaft of light illuminate for a split-second what were now clearly two females in extremely tight clothing. Then the light disappeared, the door was closed, and the women were gone.

*******

Harrington leaned back on the sofa in her suite, and tossed a report on to the table. It was getting late, and Harrington had plans for Trueheart in the morning that probably meant a decent nights sleep was in order. It didn't pay to be tired and grumpy when interrogating, and Harrington lived by the mantra that one should really give oneself the best conditions to thoroughly enjoy your work. And nobody - Harrington reflected - enjoyed her work more than she did.

The heavy curtains that helped retain some of the heat blocked any view of the night sky, but she imagined it was bitterly cold outside. She permitted herself a half smile as she mentally pictured the naked forms of Trueheart, Shackleton and Masterton restrained to the cold concrete wall of the prison cells. They may even be pleased to see her tomorrow, although that surely wouldn't last long into the morning's festivities.

They had arrived back over two hours ago from the place where they'd rendezvoused and extensively examined the two latest additions to their guest roster, and Harrington was beginning to feel the first signs of a fatiguing day. As she stifled a yawn, she took out a USB key from her jacket for what was probably the hundredth time that day, and toyed with it in her hand. Staring at the offending storage device, she tried to push away the impatience she felt at Trueheart's delaying tactics. It wouldn't matter. Soon she'd have the password to decrypt the contents, and then Decider Enterprises profiles, plans and agents would be her's to peruse.

Harrington stifled a second yawn with even less success, and was about put the USB key away when she felt the muzzle of a gun rest gently against the back of her head. Her pulse immediately leapt into overdrive as she instantly thought of and discarded a dozen different plans of action. Underlying all that, she couldn't help but marvel at how quietly whoever had snuck up on her had managed to achieve their objective.

"Well?" Harrington said, putting her full attention into controlling her voice and projecting an air of calmness.

The muzzle remained steadfastly where it was, as a woman quietly walked around the sofa and positioned herself in front of Harrington. The woman was blonde, dressed completely in black, and had a steely determination in her eyes. So, at least two assailants then. No matter. The clothing the woman wore was not only highly functional for sneaking around in the dark, but also showed off every curve on her clearly athletic body.

"Harrington. We're taking the USB key. We're taking our agents. We're taking out this place. You can choose to be alive at the end of that, or not. One wrong move, and we'll be taking that as a vote for 'or not'."

"Seriously" Harrington said, bemused more than anything else by the scenario unfolding before her. "You ladies seriously think you have a chance of doing all that? I'm afraid you grossly over-estimate my value as a prisoner."

The blonde woman simply shrugged and extended a hand out, clicking her fingers to indicate that Harrington was to push the USB key across the coffee table between them. Harrington paused for a moment, then returned the shrug, leaned forward and slowly pushed the USB key across the table. She leaned back again on the sofa, feeling the gun's barrel gently but persistently following her every movement, and then waited.

The blonde woman reached across once Harrington was out of reach, and grabbed the USB key, quickly turning it over a couple of times as if to check it's authenticity by look and feel alone.

"Okay," the blonder woman started, beginning to left her gaze up from the USB key to Harrington and her partner with the gun, "Let's g..."

Harrington arched an eyebrow as a look of shock seemed to pass over the blonde woman's face, and she felt the gun muzzle suddenly pull away from her head and swing upwards.

"Monica, what the hell are you doing?!"

"Sorry Bree," said a voice from behind Harrington, "I can't let you take that USB key."

Agent Bree Carson was frozen to the spot, USB key still cradled in her right hand, as Harrington felt movement behind her and a similarly-clad auburn-haired woman began to make her own way around the sofa, this time with the gun pointed directly at Carson.

A few uncomfortable moments passed, before Harrington let out a derisive snort. "What? Surely you can't expect me to believe this little charade?" Harrington looked from Monica to Bree and back again, with an expression of unconcealed incredulousness.

"Let me guess." She continued. "You're here to audition for a job, by delivering to me yet another one of Decider Enterprises disposable agents. And of course, having saved my life, I'll gratefully accept you into our organisation! Well of course, come and join our happy family, I'll create a login to our secure systems first thing in the morning!" Harrington waved a hand at Bree, who was now rapidly replacing confusion and surprise with anger and seething fury. "This is of course, not simply yet another rendition of one of the oldest tricks in the spy book."

Monica didn't break her focus on Bree for a split-second, as she rummaged through a hidden pocket in her body-hugging garment and finally pulled another USB key out.

"Oh I don't expect you to believe me when I say I'm interested in changing sides just because of this little thing." Monica replied, waving the gun slightly why still keeping it trained on Bree. "I expect you to believe me because I have the USB key you'll need to decipher the one you've already got."

Harrington's look of disbelief flickered slightly, as she looked at the USB key in Monica's hand, and then reached out to take it from her. Monica pulled her hand away before Harrington could take it though, and waved a finger in the air.

"Ah, ah. Not so fast. I'd like certain assurances. Certain guarantees of safety and remuneration. After that, you get the USB key, and a quick lesson on how we were able to find you."

Bree looked on at the horror show playing out in front of her. "Why?" she whispered.

"Oh you know. Money. Power. Nothing personal Bree."

"Bitch!"

Monica shrugged her shoulders and made a face as if to say "yeah, but what are you going to do about it?"

Harrington looked on, and narrowed her eyes. "Sorry Monica, but I've been around long enough to smell a setup when I'm witnessing one."

Monica turned to face Harrington for the first time, anger flashing in her eyes. "Listen. I came here at great personal risk. You need me, and ..." She didn't get any further though. Bree seized the opportunity brought about by Monica's loss of attention to suddenly close the gap between the two of them. With lightning speed, she grabbed Monica's gun arm, and brought her right foot up and around in a graceful arc that connected expertly with Monica's chin. The would-be traitor collapsed instantly. As Harrington herself reacted, Bree forced the gun out the now prone Monica's hand, and swung the handle of the gun with full force against the side of Harrington's temple. In that instant, and with barely a second passed since Bree had been at gunpoint, Harrington's world went as black as the night outside.

********

Harrington stirred and groaned, and slowly came to the realisation that she was lying flat on her back on the hard floor next to the sofa. Pain flooded back to the forefront of her mind. She experimentally opened an eye, and immediately regretted it as the lights of her apartment sent spasms shooting through her brain. She groaned again, and struggled to lift herself on to her elbows with her eyes tightly closed. The fog was slowly beginning to clear from her mind as she desperately tried to remember exactly what had happened.