The burly woman stood with her hands in the pockets of her vest. She stared intently from behind a desk, watching a monitor that appeared to show the inside of a cell. Her intense, green eyes kept laser focus as she leaned onto the desk and pressed a button on the microphone in front of her.

“Five minutes, Lanala.”

The monitor displayed a night vision view inside the darkened cell. Another woman, tall, thin, and muscular, struggled with tough restraints on the other side of the monitor.

She had been carefully bound with a tough adhesive tape with high tensile strength. It had been wrapped around her ankles and knees to keep her immobile. Several bands of the tape wrapped tightly around her arms and her wrists were bound behind her back. Another strict wrapping of tape sealed a soft sponge within her mouth in a tight gag.

The burly woman sat down in a chair and kept watch on the smaller woman inside the cell. She brushed a strand of her purple bangs out of her long, braided hair and crossed her strong legs. Without a mission so far today, she had chosen to wear her casual outfit for the day, consisting of a sleeveless white shirt, a thin purple vest, a short and frilled white skirt held up with a thick, purple belt. Brown, strappy sandals completed her favourite outfit.

The bound and gagged woman in the cell, Lanala, was dressed rather similarly to the burly woman who watched her. Her sleeveless shirt was black, in contrast to the burly woman, and her matching black skirt was much shorter and tighter, without the frills. A white belt was placed perfectly about the waist of her skirt and a light pink scarf dangled from her neck, swaying with her struggling movements. Also like the burly woman, Lanala wore strappy sandals although they, like the rest of her favourite outfit, were black.

Determined, orange-coloured eyes glared into the dark cell while she writhed back and forth in her stringent bonds. Her strawberry coloured, tied back hair was kept mercifully out of her face, for the most part, save for a few stray bangs.

“Mmph,” she grunted. Why had Artema insisted on such a tough type of tape? Surely not even Artema herself could escape such strict bondage.

Lanala tugged and pulled at the tape that held her captive but it held on tight. Her mind drifted then to her current surroundings. The cell was dark and she could hardly see any of the padding on the floor and walls. She had no idea where the camera was and tried searching for it but she couldn’t make out any shapes in the darkness.

It felt a little surreal to be here in this world so different from the one they came from. And it was equally strange to find themselves here in already well established lives at the Weston Agency. They were all spies now within this modern city, commissioned by the government to gather intelligence and put a stop to counter espionage by enemies of the state. Lanala didn’t know what ‘the state’ meant since there didn’t seem to be much information on the coastal city they now found themselves within.

Weston overlooked a long stretch of ocean and its southerly setting afforded them comfortable spring and summer temperatures practically year round. Its city centre was mostly made up of tall buildings but after that, it flattened out into residential and beautiful business and recreational districts. But the city wasn’t without trouble.

High profile thieves made a name for themselves in Weston. The city had become notorious for its lax security and being a security guard in the city was quite dangerous. The thieves weren’t killers or anything but security guards often found themselves the victim of kidnapping and forced confinement.

But the Weston Agency didn’t just try to combat these thieves. Their main goal was a covert group who had infiltrated every level of the Weston government. This group, led by a woman named Jhana, called themselves the Guardian Agency Group, shortened to G.A.G. The leader of G.A.G., Jhana, was known mostly by the code name Cobra.

Lanala rolled her eyes when she thought of Jhana’s silly code name. It was like she didn’t even want to hide her true nature. At least Lanala’s own code name was short, sweet, and suited what she knew. Everyone still called her Lanala but on missions, she was Agent Spark. She liked it. The name was punchy and she felt super cool every time someone said it. Especially her wife, Artema, who went by the code name Agent Hunter.

Artema was the Director of their little detachment, though she had to report to the actual Agency Director. The woman never set foot in their little underground base but the Agency Director did at least take care to keep in constant contact.

A strong voice snapped her back to reality.

“Time’s up, Lanala. Were you daydreaming again?” Artema’s strong voice spoke to her from somewhere above through a speaker that Lanala couldn’t see.

“Mm mmm!” Lanala protested, shaking her head.

“You stopped trying, Lanala. I saw on the monitor. You got lost in that head of yours again, didn’t you?”

Lanala slumped forward into her bonds. “Hmmmm...” she sighed.

“I’m coming down there. You know what failing means.”

“Mmm hmmm,” Lanala grunted sadly. She wasn’t sure if she hated the Sensory Deprivation room more than the quiet room. At least Artema would hogtie her, blindfold her, and put headphones with loud music over her ears. The music was actually pretty enjoyable and Lanala would sometimes move with it in her bonds. But that got old after awhile and the total loss of all her senses would make her perhaps even more bored than the quiet room ever did. But now she didn’t have a choice. They had no way back home as of yet. For now, Weston was home and the Sensory Deprivation room was her only choice.

Lanala squinted when the lights of the padded cell came on again and Artema entered the room. She knelt down next to her wife and looked her in the eyes.

“I don’t need to say anything else, do I?”

Lanala just shook her head.

“All right. To the SD room with you.”

Artema hauled Lanala over her shoulder and carried her back out of the padded cell. Lanala didn’t even bother to squirm this time. She accepted her fate and awaited the complete dulling of her senses.

...

The flat screen monitor across the room showed a bound and gagged woman, gently swaying back and forth in her bonds and struggling ever so slightly. She was dressed in her favourite outfit; a cropped, red top that covered her chest but left her shoulders and arms bare, red cutoff short shorts made of denim and a matching pair of flip-flops.

Her orange hair was short and thick with long, beautiful bangs. Her deep red eyes were covered with a black, leather blindfold. A harness ball gag filled her mouth with a bright red ball. She moaned and mewled into the gag and wriggled excitedly in her restraints.

The woman’s hands were locked behind her with a bright red pair of handcuffs. Thick leather straps, also red, framed her breasts and wrapped tightly around her arms. More straps bound her legs at the ankles, above and below the knees, and high up on her thighs, pushing her short shorts even higher.

She would sometimes stand up from her bed, which was covered in red satin sheets, and sway in her bondage. Then she would sit back down again and moan into her gag and struggle against her tight bonds. This carried on for a long time within the same room depicted on the screen. The same orange-haired woman watched from her bed and enjoyed the sight of the video she had shot herself.

Elyn would always treat herself to some self bondage on the weekends. And today was no exception. While the video of her, bound and gagged, played on the monitor across the room, Elyn smiled and giggled beneath her gag at the sight of herself.

Elyn had slipped into her favourite red bikini this time and put on her highest, black heels to contrast the red. Silky, black rope bound her legs in five places; the ankles, above and below the knees and in two places on her gorgeous thighs. Heavy, black straps once again framed her breasts and kept her arms pinned tightly to her sides. She had gotten very good at binding her own arms.

Topping it off, Elyn had ensnared her own hands into a pair of hinged, black police-style handcuffs to keep them trapped behind her back. She loved to be blindfolded but she had to watch the video she had recorded of herself the week before so she had to forego the blindfold this time. To compensate, Elyn had placed a large, red ball gag in her mouth and then sealed it in tighter with strong, transparent duct tape.

Above her, the handcuff keys hung from a string attached to a hook in the ceiling. The string wound its way from the hook to a computer sitting on a high shelf near the monitor. It was unreachable in her bound state and the string lay tucked inside the computer’s CD tray. It was triggered to open when Elyn’s three hour long video ended. She wriggled excitedly in her bondage when she realized that she was only five minutes into the video. It would be a long time before she would be free.

“Mmmmm,” she moaned. The sensation was such a thrill and she knew she looked good bound and gagged. Elyn had the evidence right in front of her, in fact. She had worn her favourite casual outfit for the recording but she always liked to dress in something special when she would bind herself and watch them back. She often chose her tiny, black dress and heels but this time it was her silky, red bikini. She still had to wear the heels, though. She just loved those black heels. Elyn loved them even more when she got to wear those heels in bondage.

In the video, Elyn screamed into her harness ball gag. This cued her to try the same with her double ball and tape gag.

“MMMMMPPPHHH!!” Quiet as a mouse. The thrill of it was sensational. Elyn never wanted it to end. But, alas, her job as a spy in the Weston Agency would get in the way of her fun.

She was one of the best shots in the Agency so she was very often sent on missions, where she was known by the code name Agent Firebrand. Elyn hated using her gun, which was why the Agency compromised and allowed her to carry a dart gun full of sleep darts instead. But her aim was second to none, not to mention her code breaking knowledge. She was a master at deciphering coded messages and even cracking safes and picking locks if the mission warranted. Whether she liked it or not, Elyn was vital to the Agency.

Elyn did enjoy her job, of course. She always needed a good cause to fight for and stopping a potential terrorist organization like G.A.G. was as good a cause as any. But as much as she enjoyed her job, Elyn loved being tied up just a little bit more. And that was why she had placed herself in her current predicament.

Video Elyn screamed into her harness ball gag again, so Elyn screamed into her double gag once more.

“MMMMMPPPHH!!”

She writhed and squirmed, pulling hard on the ropes and straps that hugged her tight. The cuffs kept her firmly stuck and the other restraints kept her completely immobile. When they refused to budge, Elyn sat still and watched herself struggle on the monitor, moaning and mewling into the ball gag in her mouth.

She sighed, feeling quite content. Elyn felt lucky to lead such a life. To sit, bound and gagged, while watching herself on a screen, bound and gagged, felt simply incredible.

Elyn watched herself on the video get up and begin dancing in her bonds. She had edited some soft, slow music into the video and stood up herself in her current bondage. Taking in the magnificent sight of her bound and gagged form, Elyn danced alongside herself and wouldn’t stop until the music did.

...

Two wooden sticks clacked together and echoed off the walls of the training room. One woman, with golden eyes and bright red, bobbed hair, stepped back and countered with a quick punch. The other woman, with a strong, dark-eyed stare and similar bobbed hair, coloured blue, leaned back and avoided the punch. Her long bangs, which covered her right eye, obscured her vision for a moment before settling back down into their natural position shading the right half of her face.

They both wore tight, workout clothes, fingerless fighting gloves and low cut running shoes for mobility.

The golden eyed woman wore a tight, spandex top coloured bright yellow with short sleeves. Her tight, spandex capris matched her shirt, as did her shoes. The lithe, blue haired woman wore a sleeveless spandex top, black in colour, with matching spandex capris and shoes.

The long sticks they each wielded clacked together again but this time the golden eyed woman wrestled the blue haired woman to the mat and pinned her there. The blue haired woman fought back but the strength of the woman with the gold eyes was surprising. The woman with blue hair looked more muscular than the woman with gold eyes but she was shorter and perhaps more nimble. The gold eyed woman was taller and slimmer but her lean, curvy figure hid the well toned muscles and incredible strength she possessed.

“You give up, Taria?” the gold-eyed woman asked.

“Nrrrggh!” Taria grunted. “Damn it, Meryn. When did you get so strong?”

“I train,” Meryn said, simply. “You know this. Now do you yield or not?”

Taria grunted again and tried to push Meryn back but the gold-eyed woman held her down.

“Yes. Yes, all right.”

Meryn stifled a smile. “I think you may have gotten slow, Taria. I never could beat you before.”

“Yeah, well there’s a first time for everything. Let’s get the next part over with already.”

As part of combat training and sparring, Artema had integrated part of escape training along with it. She had surmised, after all, that a captured agent would likely have to fight her way out of trouble as well. To practice both at once, whoever would yield in combat training would be restrained and gagged to test her adaptability.

Meryn reached into a thick bag behind Taria and produced a heavy pair of zip cuffs and lashed Taria’s wrists together behind her back. With a second pair, Meryn restrained Taria’s ankles as well. She reached into the bag for further restraints, finding three thin straps to bind Taria at the knees and keep her arms bound. The finishing touch involved a roll of silver duct tape lying just on top of the bag. It took Meryn only a few seconds to pull the tape tight over Taria’s mouth and seal it shut, wrapping the tape around her head five times.

“We’ll see how well you do. I’ll be keeping my eye on you.”

“Mmph,” Taria grunted.

With Taria firmly restrained on the mat, Meryn crossed the room and leaned against the wall. She watched Taria wriggle and squrim in her tight bonds but she didn’t seem to be making any progress.

The lithe woman Meryn watched was an expert hand-to-hand combatant and had never really lost a training fight before now. All the extra training Meryn had been doing certainly seemed to be paying off. But Taria was still a formidable fighter. She was perhaps still the best among them, despite this setback. Only Artema could beat her one-on-one, normally. Taria was such a force that she had been given the code name Agent Blade in the field.

Meryn felt genuine pride at finally defeating Taria in a one-on-one fight. She would have to train harder and see if it would be possible to defeat Artema herself. That would be quite a challenge as the might director was a much larger woman and combined both speed and tremendous strength. Meryn wasn’t sure she could match Artema’s strength but perhaps if she could be faster...

Taria growled angrily behind her tape gag. Being restrained always brought out the worst of her temper and made escaping that much more difficult. Still, only Artema was a better escapologist than she was, when she was able to concentrate. But her anger would prevent her from thinking clearly a lot of the time and she escaped far less often than she liked to admit.

She thought back to Meryn and their sparring match for a moment. Taria hated losing but she had been training Meryn personally for a few months. But she hadn’t realized that Meryn had done both combat and strength training on her own. Now the student had bested the teacher. With this thought in mind, Taria did feel a little bit proud of Meryn, code name Agent Gold, for finally beating her in a sparring match.

With a quick glance, Taria noticed that Meryn was still watching her, stoic as ever. The two of them had a lot in common, it seemed. Taria was perhaps a bit more friendly than Meryn but both of them took their jobs very seriously. She also remembered that Meryn was always quite fiery whenever she was bound and gagged as well. Neither of them really liked to be caged. Taria didn’t know about Meryn but she actually liked to be tied up to an extent. She enjoyed the challenge of escape and, when it was on her terms, Taria could even just enjoy the peace and serenity that came with being bound. But failing to escape, or when she really didn’t feel like being tied up, Taria’s unquenchable rage would boil to the surface.

Deep breaths she thought to herself, in an effort to keep calm. The zip cuffs dug into her wrists and she didn’t know where Meryn hid the pliers to cut them off herself. Before sparring, the combatants would both agree that the winner would hide the pliers and the loser would have to find them to aid in her escape.

Taria pulled hard against the straps that bound her arms but Meryn had pulled them tight. She wasn’t about the get them off her body with her wrists still bound behind her. She shook her head a bit but the duct tape wouldn’t budge and clung to her face like a tight mask, showing off her pursed lips ever so slightly.

Struggling furiously, Taria fell to her side and angrily kicked her bound legs out on the mat.

“MMMMPPHH!!”

Nothing would come loose if she continued like this so she had to concentrate. Where would Meryn have hid the pliers? And if she couldn’t find them, how was she going to break the zip cuffs. Taria wasn’t certain she had enough energy to break through the cuffs so finding the pliers was her only option.

Taria struggled into a sitting position and closed her eyes. She let a deep calm overcome her and thought hard about what Meryn would do. She was clever, Taria knew. Meryn was a smart crimefighter who never made things easy for her opponents. The pair of them often liked to play cards together and Taria found that Meryn was a master of the double bluff. The woman with the steely, golden eyes never could be trusted to show her hand but she so often pretended to have a good hand when she actually did, hiding it in plain sight. That had to be it.

The bag Taria thought. She’d never expect me to check the bag of restraints. It’s far too obvious.

“Mmm! Mmm mmph!’ Taria grunted and shuffled her way to the bag of restraints along the back wall of the sparring gym. She swung her bound hands into the still open bag and rooted around inside the piles of zip cuffs, straps, and rolls of duct tape. The search was fruitless at first and Taria stamped her bound feet in frustration.

“MMMPPHH!!”

But then her hands touched something cold and metallic. She grabbed the object tight in her hand and felt the head of the tool. Taria had found the pliers. Now all she needed to do was manoeuvre the pliers up to her bound wrists and cut open the zip cuffs; a task easier said than done.

It took her some time but Taria managed to get the sharp edges of the pliers around the thick plastic and squeezed the rubber handles hard. The plastic was tougher than she had been expecting so she needed a few tries to cut all the way through it but she sighed with relief when the zip cuffs broke and her wrists were free. Now it was just a matter of undoing the straps and cutting the zip cuffs that bound her ankles. With her hands free, all of that was short work. With a final effort, Taria found the edge of the duct tape around her mouth and unwound it until her mouth was free as well. She stood up and smirked at Meryn.

“That was pretty tight,” Taria said. “But you know the rules, right?”

Meryn sighed. She did know the rules. If the losing combatant could escape her bonds then she would get to restrain the winning combatant any way she chose. Artema said it helped them stay adaptable and think quick on their feet.

“All right,” Meryn said. “Just don’t make it too easy, now.”

“Trust me, I won’t,” Taria said.

Taria took no time at all to bind Meryn even tighter than she herself had been bound. Two zip cuffs went around Meryn’s wrists and she used straps, pulled tightly, for the rest of Meryn’s body. Her legs were bound at the thighs, above and below the knees, and at the ankles. Taria wrapped three straps around Meryn’s arms just below her shoulders, just above her elbows, and around the waist to bind her already bound wrists tightly to her body. With seven wraps of the silver duct tape, Meryn was tightly gagged and left to squirm on the floor mats.

“I’ll give you an hour,” Taria said. “If you can’t escape by then, I’ll let you out and we’ll be done. But if you do, then you can tie me up again. How’s that sound?”

“Mmmph,” Meryn grunted, nodding.

“All right. Go on then. Your hour has already started.”

While Taria crossed the room, Meryn began pulling and struggling hard against her very tight restraints. It became clear to her then that she had been bound and gagged much tighter than Taria had. An hour might not be enough time. She growled in frustration at her predicament and rolled onto her stomach, thrashing away. Taria could only smirk. She was fond of getting payback, even when it was against a friend.

Meryn continued her useless struggles while Taria’s smirk grew to a smile as she gripped the pliers behind her back. Across the room, Meryn was getting more and more frustrated.

“Mmmph!”

...

The last two of the main seven of the Agency were together within one of their sleeping quarters. A dark skinned woman sat on the bed, completely bound and gagged. She was a tall, slim woman with a strong, athletic figure and deep, cold eyes the colour of ice. Her long hair was tied back into a perfect ponytail and coloured a light, icy blue. On that day she wore her preferred casual outfit of a tight, sleeveless shirt that was an even lighter blue than her hair, matching skintight pants and long, heeled boots that were a darker blue and reached the middle of her thighs. A short, blue and white scarf hung in a loose knot around her neck.

Another woman sat across the room from her in a swivelling office chair. She leaned forward and held a stopwatch in her hand.

The dark-skinned woman had been bound fairly tightly with soft, white rope. It kept her bound at the ankles and knees. One long length of the white rope bound her arms behind her back at the elbows and a second pinned her arms to her back. Her chest jutted out in front of her from the position she had been put in. Her wrists were secured with a final length of the rope and a soft cloth had been pulled between her teeth in a cleave gag.

The other woman in the chair crossed her legs and eyed the dark-skinned woman carefully. She herself seemed to exude a sort of bubbly, bright happiness in her shining, dark brown eyes. Long, gorgeous green hair fell about her shoulders and it, too, seemed to shine. This woman was quite a bit shorter and leaner than the dark-skinned woman. On this day, she had chosen to wear her favourite short, summer dress, without sleeves and coloured a rich brown. On her feet, she wore matching flats and a long, elegant red scarf sat draped over her shoulders. A handbag that matched her hair lay on the desk behind her.

“Are you ready, Luna?” the smaller woman asked.

Luna shuffled a bit in her bonds and nodded her head. “Yesh, Mirelle” she said through her cleave gag.

Mirelle’s showed her perfect, white teeth when she smiled at Luna.

“All right. Go!”

Luna giggled a bit at Mirelle’s amazing smile and this made Mirelle giggle back. The pair of them couldn’t stop laughing for some time and they both kept constant eye contact the whole time.

“Stop your giggling,” Mirelle said. “You’ve only got four minutes left.”

“You shtop,” Luna said, struggling with the ropes and still laughing.

In recent days, Mirelle found she couldn’t stop staring at Luna. The two of them had always been close, even from the first moment they met, but this felt different. Mirelle would look at Artema and Lanala and the love they shared and she wanted that for herself. She caught herself thinking that way a lot these days and Luna was never far behind in those thoughts.

In the Agency, Luna was the stealth specialist. Trained to go undetected by even the sharpest of enemy eyes, she was a master of infiltration. Mirelle felt positively useless in comparison to Agent Moonlight, as they called her on missions. But that was perhaps because Mirelle didn’t specialize in anything.

She was both a very capable hand-to-hand combatant and quite good at stealth but she wasn’t a master of either one. Even still, her versatility meant Artema trusted her with many missions and Mirelle would be the one sent in most frequently without a partner. She was just that versatile and adaptable. It was missions like those when she would miss Luna the most. Her best friend always knew how to get the best out Mirelle. Of course, Luna would think the same of Mirelle, who went by the code name Agent Rune.

Luna was currently trying not to giggle at Mirelle's pretty, smiling face and undo the knots that kept her bound. She was having some success but it was slow going. Those elbow ropes that Mirelle had tied were giving her no end of trouble moving.

Luna, too, had been thinking about Mirelle a lot herself. Nobody had ever brought out her deeply hidden personality quite like Mirelle. With Mirelle, Luna was known to smile quite often and speak what was on her mind. Without Mirelle, Luna was a loner who rarely spoke or showed emotion of any kind. It seemed to Luna that they brought the best out in each other. Perhaps it was time to tell her...

“Two minutes left and you’re still tied up, Luna. What are you waiting for?”

“Chrishmash,” Luna said, giggling.

“Oh, ha ha. You’re hilarious, Luna. Do you steal all your jokes from movies?”

“Jusht the good onesh,” Luna said.

“Quit your gag talk and get to the escaping, moon girl,” Mirelle teased. “Or else you won’t get to tie me up.”

“We’ll shee about thaght!” Luna said with a giggle.

Luna began struggling harder, putting all of her strength into pulling against the ropes that kept her tied up. They didn’t really move much but the knot on her wrists was almost undone. She fiddled with the knot while Mirelle smiled at her. It was so close...

“One minute, Luna.”

With one final pull of her fingers, the knot slipped loose and Luna managed to pull her wrists apart. She slipped the rope binding her elbows down just enough to make it loose and slip her arms out. The rope pinning her arms to her back went up and over her head and she pulled the cleave gag down from her mouth. Luna was quick with the ropes binding her legs and she stood up straight and raised her arms in the air.

“Time!” she said.

“Eight seconds to spare,” Mirelle said. “Well done, moon girl.”

“Call me moon girl one more time,” Luna said with a warm smile. “And you’ll fine yourself with a muzzle over that big mouth.”

“I dare you to try it,” Mirelle said, smiling back.

“Do you?”

Mirelle giggled and shook her head. “All right, all right. I won’t call your bluff then.”

“That’s what I thought. Now come here.” Luna pulled the chair closer and grabbed some of the rope from the floor.

“Don’t I need to get up?” Mirelle asked.

“Nope,” Luna replied.

Luna pulled the rope tight against Mirelle’s body, wrapping around her upper arms and the back of the chair. She pulled it tight and Mirelle giggled.

“Hey! That’s pretty tight!”

“That’s the idea, Agent Rune,” Luna said, doing her best stern impression of Artema. “Escape practice is essential, blah, blah, blah. You need to be ready for any eventuality, yadda yadda.”

Mirelle giggled again. “That’s pretty good,” she said. “Just don’t do it in front of Artema. I doubt she’d like it.”

“That one is all for you, Mirelle. Besides, I know Artema hates fun. Now sit still and be a good captive.”

“I’m your captive now? What are you, some kind of evil villain?”

“Mwahaha! Of course I am!” Luna said, with a wide grin. She finished binding Mirelle’s ankles and moved on to her knees next.

“You would make a terrible villain, Luna. You’re way too sweet to be evil.”

“Evil can take many forms,” Luna said.

With Mirelle’s legs firmly cinched and bound at the knees, Luna pulled Mirelle’s hands behind the back of the chair and lashed them together tightly. The final rope went around Mirelle’s waist and looped around her bound wrists.

“Honestly, Luna, even when you’re joking, you just can’t sound evil. You’re way too much of a sweetheart. You just can’t be a villain.”

Luna smiled wide. “I can’t, can I? I’ll show you a villain, Mirelle!”

Luna pulled a rolled, white scarf between Mirelle’s teeth tightly in a cleave gag. She then took off her own blue and white scarf and pulled it tight over top of the cleave gag. Mirelle giggled the whole time and Luna did her evil laugh again.

“Spit your poison words now, my dear!” Luna said. “You are now my helpless and silent captive!”

Mirelle giggled again. Luna leaned down into her face and couldn’t wipe the silly grin off her face. She snatched the stopwatch from the desk behind Mirelle and set the time.

“Ten minutes,” she said. “And if you can escape faster than me then you will be victorious and I shall be your helpless captive once again. But if you should fail or if you are slower than me, well, I dread to think of what may happen to you, dearest Mirelle.”

“Hmm mmmph!” Mirelle said, stifling yet another giggle.

“Your time begins... now!”

...

Artema leaned back in her chair and took in a deep breath. With Lanala in the SD room and the rest of her team occupied, there really was nothing else for her to do. The thought occurred to her that she might kill some time by joining her wife in the SD room for some meditation. It would be difficult to bind herself so that escape would be difficult but Artema had done it before.

As soon as she stood up, however, someone buzzed the speaker from outside her door. She walked over to it and spoke into the speaker.

“Who is it?” she asked.

“It’s Jonas,” answered a tired, male voice. “I have a mission from the Agency Director herself.”

Artema unlocked the door and pulled it open. A tall man stood there before her. He wasn’t quite as tall as Artema herself but he was a large man nonetheless. A scruffy beard grew on his face that matched his dark brown hair. Tired, grey eyes stared into Artema’s as he entered the room.

The man was dressed in a sharp suit with black dress pants and a black vest with gold buttons. The white shirt underneath contrasted the black and a brown jacket covered the vest and shirt. A thin red tie hung loose around his neck. He folded his arms behind as back as Artema closed the door.

“Good to see you, Jonas,” Artema said.

“Likewise,” Jonas said. “It still feels odd to be here, you know?”

Artema smirked and clapped him on the shoulder. “And you were worried we would all die in that portal, you old worry wart.”

“None of us knew it would bring us... here,” Jonas said, gesturing at the room around them. He took a step forward and it was then that Artema noticed his limp.

“What did you hurt this time, you stubborn bastard?”

“Oh, um, that’s nothing, Artema. Just a bit of combat training with Celia. She’s small but she packs a punch, let me tell you.”

“Combat training? Since when do you do field missions? In thought your area was intel.”

“It is but I do occasionally go out into the field and I need to be ready.”

Artema nodded and folded her powerful arms. “I suppose that’s true. Now, do you want to tell me the mission or not?”

Jonas smirked. “You may not like this.”

“Hit me with it already.”

Jonas shrugged in response. “Okay. It’s our informant. She knows where Jhana is hiding.”