Deming

Feelings of betrayal from the discovery of a fellow agent turned criminal flooded her mind to such an extent that she felt too weak to go on. She had to go on and she knew it but the fact that it was not just any agent made the matter worse. At her car, she opened the trunk and placed the briefcase inside. Her watch showed that Deming would be asleep for another twelve minutes. At the awakening, she'd deal with him the way he deserved.

From her bag, Angel pulled out her original shirt and covered her bareness. She hadn't even thought of wiping his cum off her body but evidently the sweat had done that for her as she climbed the stairs to meet the mystery man. When she closed the trunk, she turned and leaned against it to gather her thoughts.

"I should have killed him right then and there!" she proclaimed to the night air. "But why didn't I?"

Checking her watch again, she noticed that she only had two minutes remaining before he would awaken to one of the worst headaches he'd ever known. At that, she still had the advantage. She remembered that the other man had somehow broken free from his binding and didn't seem to be impaired from a headache. Her initial thought was that larger men needed a bigger dose of the tranquilizer to experience the same migraine effect but she also recalled her training at the academy over said debilitating drugs.

Moving quickly to the back door, it suddenly hit her that the drug might not have the intended effect on someone who had alcohol in his system. They'd already had a few bears and wanted more. The drug might not even last the full twenty minutes and Deming might even be awake with no headache as she entered the kitchen area.

Once again, Angel's heart pounded as adrenaline pumped through her veins. Spinning quickly into the room to shoot anything that moved, she found herself staring up the stairwell into the dazed face of Thomas Sheldon. No longer did he deserve the code name Deming. His crime and betrayal had disqualified him from such an honor. Angel pointed the gun directly at his chest, ready to fire when he fully realized her presence.

His right-hand draped across his forehead, the headache had evidently hit him unlike the other man. He squeezed his temples to help him stabilize but to no avail. Whether he knew Auburn Angel's gun pointed fatally in his direction was anyone's guess. One thing was for sure, Angel absolutely wanted him to know she was present and ready to fire. Like an executioner, she took her stance and waited. He could not defend himself whatsoever.

Then Thomas Sheldon's hand dropped to his side and his eyes opened to gaze down the stairs. But before Auburn Angel could pull the trigger, Sheldon began to topple forward as his hand suddenly lunged for his chest. Down the stairs he fell till he landed atop the other dead operative. Instinctively, Angel stepped back to survey the scene. Though she couldn't have imagined how anyone could live from such a fall, she took no chances. After all, Thomas had been a well trained agent knowing exactly how to fall to fool another.

Quickly removing the silencer from her gun, she aimed and shot two times directly over his head. If he had still been alive, he surely would have jumped in fearful shock. But Thomas Sheldon was dead, not by the hand of agent Angel but a higher executioner who knew exactly how his life should end. Relieved at his demise, she hadn't even noticed that a fellow female agent had entered the back door into the kitchen.

Softly, the agent said, "Angel, it's all over now. You're safe."

Snapped back to reality, Angel lifted her eyes and stared directly into her fellow agent's warm blue eyes. Sigrid Townsend, code name Blue Ice slowly lifted her open hands to Auburn Angel. Closing her eyes and opening them, Angel let her gun hand lower to her side. She walked forward to meet Sigrid then the woman led her out to the hidden Jag.

When they reached the car, Sigrid clicked her radio receiver and signaled the other agents to secure the house. Angel stood by the driver's side but made no moves to open the door. Realizing her plight, Blue Ice hugged her fellow agent and told her she'd drive her home. The agent started to hand her the keys but then a calm acceptance of the entire assignment flooded her being.

Smiling at Blue Ice, Angel said, "It's all right! I can drive!"

She opened the door and climbed into the seat, started the engine, and opened the electric window to tell Blue Ice to climb in. As Sigrid reached to open the passenger door, she kicked a piece of material. Picking it up, she opened the door and climbed in but said nothing to Angel. Angel took her time meandering down the road till she reached the entrance ramp to Highway 6317. But at the entrance ramp, she gunned the Jag like she was dragging the quarter mile. Unbelievable speed built till the two women thought themselves about to take flight.

Seconds transpired before pretty Angel slowed the Jag to a speed of reasonable limit. For miles, neither woman said a word but after a half an hour or so, Blue Ice lifted the blouse she'd found before she climbed into the car.

"I suppose this is yours?" she inquired of Auburn Angel.

Angel's head nodded slightly but she never engaged in verbal response. Blue Ice knew that it was the agent's and nothing else needed to be communicated. As best she could, she folded it and laid it down in the floor by her feet. At the safe house, Triptic met them, secured the briefcase, and left for the drop off to the Supervisor. As much food as Angel wanted awaited her and so did a comfortable bed. Angel slept the night away after taking an extremely hot shower.

The next morning after breakfast with Sigrid, she reported in with the Supervisor who said little but told her to take a week off.