41: Sapphire Tested

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.