DANGER BROAD - No More I Love You's

The music of Annie Lennox blared from the open window of the apartment on the 5th floor of the downtown building, set back off from the noon time activity of Main Street.

"No more I love you's........the language is leaving me ........No more I love you's........the changes are shifting outside the world......."


She was known as Sultry Veruca on the stage, but her real name was Madeline Carmichael. Not quite as sexy sounding, she changed her name when she turned 18 and started singing in small clubs, backroom taverns, and little holes in the wall. She never worked as a stripper, but she often wondered what her reaction would be if asked. No one ever did.


Madeline stood before her vanity mirror. She finished brushing her long brown hair and tied it back with a pony tail rubberband, the tail part reaching down to the middle of her back. Her hair was one of her trademarks, among others, at the Pink Flamingo. She tried mimicing the low throaty sounds of Annie. She sounded just like her and decided that would be one of her more popular songs. All she had to do was make up some moves on the stage to go with the words, moves that made her sway and her customers swoon. They were mostly men.


Except for the one woman who had been coming to the club fairly regularly the last month, and she made Madeline very nervous. She never approached her, but just the same, she could tell this woman was studying her. It wasn't a come on, she'd had them before from women and knew how to dissuade them. The woman was blonde and short, nearly a head shorter than Madeline. No, this was almost like she was analyzing her. God, how she wanted a drink. She only craved the booze when she was scared.


It was getting late, and her stomach growled. She needed to eat before she left for work. Thoughts of the blonde woman were replaced with a tuna on rye.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++


Beth lined her lips with red lipliner, then puckering in the mirror, she blotted them on a tissue. The doctor had made them too full again, she whined in her head, I look like a freakin barbie doll. Oh well, it helps with the get up.


She was dressed in the warehouse gear, the beige overalls covering the orange teeshirt. Her work boots were tied and her hardhat sat on the bed. The two orange flags she would need to complete the effect laid on the bed next to her pistol.


She reached down and checked the .45 one more time to see if she had set up properly. All chambers were filled. She slapped the chamber with a spin and stuck in her holster she had under her shirt attached to her bra strap. Lock and load, baby she whispered to herself. She checked her wrist watch which read 12:30 p.m. Time to go.


Showtime.


++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++


Maynard was pacing. What the hell was wrong with these women that it took them so long to change he thought. It's just a damn stake out - what could they be doing in there?


His question was soon answered when they came out.


The Rookie Sar was dressed in a leather skirt that left little to the imagination. She had on a halter top that housed her ample bosom, something Maynard had neglected to notice since he had only ever seen her in uniform.


Gone was the innocent smile. It was replaced with a hard, red lip pout that she had been practicing for weeks. Blue eye shadow covered the lids of her eyes, black eyeliner prouncing the largeness of her eyes.


"What the hell you lookin' at man" she growled in a hard edged tone. The sweetness was definitely gone. Maynard was strangely aroused.


Sgt. Canola exited the room next, and her getup was just as hard and erotic. Leather boots grabbed at her long calves and travelled all the way to top of her thighs. She too had on a mini, only leopard pattern. Her makeup was just as harsh, her blonde hair piled high on the top of her head, wisps falling down around her ears. She met his gaze with a hardness he had never seen before.


"Ladies", he said as he cleared his throat and offered his arms to escort them.


"Oh shove it, Maynard", said Canola in a deep roar. There was silence a moment, before they all burst out laughing. It broke the tension of what was going to be a difficult undercover assignment. They were keenly aware they would have to rely on all the training and skills they had acquired over the years. One of them may not come back.


It was definitely showtime.


"Remember", Maynard said, suddenly somber. "Remember the signal. It will save your life."


WIth that, they all headed towards the door of the apartment building across the street from the one they had been casing for a month.


It was 1:30 p.m. They could hear the music of Annie Lennox wailing in the background.