***

AUTHOR’S NOTE: I'm a big fan of Trent Wolf’s Dominoe character and the ABC series “Alias”, so it seemed only natural to write a crossover story featuring Dominoe and SydneyBristow.  And here it is.  This story takes place after the events in "Sharp Detour" but before "Rock Solid" by Jonathan Darksong.

“Alias”, SydneyBristow, and all related characters are produced by ABC in association with Touchstone Television. All rights reserved. The characters of Dominoe, Rook, and Bishop are the property of Trent Wolf. This story is purely for personal entertainment purpose only. No financial gain or copyright infringement is intended.

WARNING: This story contains content of an adult nature and is intended for matures readers.

***

C.A.T.T. Agent Diamond Jack slammed down the shot of whiskey in one gulp. The cheap liquor burned his throat, but he didn’t care. The effect it produced was worth it. It was his fourth shot and he was beginning to feel the effects. He was suddenly hot and lightheaded. That was accompanied by a soothing buzz. Recently, he had come to rely on booze to improve his mood.

So fucking what?

Twenty years of being a secret agent had cost him two marriages, three relationships, and any hope of a normal life. And for what? His missions were all covert. The world would never know about them. He didn’t even exist. Christ! He was a grown man, and yet everyone he knew addressed him as Diamond Jack. He should have done twenty years in the special forces where he started. Instead, he chose to take down terrorists and criminals for a secret spy organization. He had made a hell of a career choice.

He slammed down his fifth shot of whiskey. What else was he supposed to do in this dump? He scanned the sleazy bar. The cheap blue paint on the walls had long since faded and was peeling. The furniture was old, grimy, and squeaky. Worst of all was the smell. It was a cross between urine and filth. He was sure this fucking no account place was the worst Belize City had to offer.

At least the place wasn’t crawling with tourists. He counted at least ten nationalities in the sun-bleached streets of Belize City. Whether they were Americans, Germans, French, or Italians it didn’t matter. They were all annoying. The world revolved around them. They were utterly oblivious to the misery and despair around them. It was too much.

What was he doing here? This type of work was for the young and motivated. He was forty-six years old and burned out. He didn’t need a birthday cake to remind him of his age--not that he recalled the last time he had a birthday cake. Weight had started accumulating around his middle. His thick hair was thinning. His lower back was now plagued by frequent pain. He knew it was time to go. This would be his last mission.

He glanced at his watch. Where was the girl? She was late. He once again scanned the bar. It was empty except for a tired bartender and two native drunks sitting at the counter. He was tempted to activate the tracking device on his watch, but changed his mind. He would give her five more minutes.

He poured himself another drink from the bottle. That’s when the girl walked into the bar. Miranda Borgetti resembled a model. She was tall and attractive. Her Argentinian descent was clearly present in her large brown eyes, long dark hair, and delicate facial features.

His looks might have been fading, but Diamond Jack had little trouble seducing the girl. She played right into his plans. She was fed up with her present life as the girlfriend of a drug lord. She wanted something better in life. She wanted a future. Diamond Jack had promised her that and more. He had even broken a cardinal rule and revealed his true intentions to the girl. It was a dangerous move, but he was sure he could trust her. He had a natural gift for reading women. Besides, how else was he supposed to convince her to get him what he wanted?

Miranda Borgetti spotted Diamond Jack sitting at the table. She made her way to him. She was dressed in a form fitting dress, sandals, and a straw hat. She carried a canvass handbag that she clutched tightly. Her eyes shifted nervously as she strolled across the bar. The tired bartender gave her a curious gaze, awe struck that someone this beautiful had entered his bar.

She sat across from Diamond Jack. “I got it,” she whispered.

Diamond Jack regarded her briefly, giving her his patent look that most women, including Miranda Borgetti, found irresistible. “I never doubted you.”

She reached inside the bag. A paperback book appeared. She placed it on the table and slid it discreetly toward Diamond Jack. He pulled the book toward him, noticing the title: Steel Courage. He suppressed a smile. He certainly wasn’t planning on reading the damned thing.

“It’s in there,” Miranda said softly. “I don’t think he suspects anything.”

Diamond Jack reached out and touched the girl’s soft hand. He made eye contact with her. “I’m proud of you, Miranda. You did the right thing.”

“Now we go away?”

Diamond Jack nodded. “That’s what I promised you.”

At that instant, two men armed with assault rifles stormed into the bar. They located Diamond Jack and Miranda Borgetti. The C.A.T.T. Agent looked past the girl, making eye contact with the two men. It was an ambush!

The two men unleashed a fierce volley of deadly gunfire. Miranda Borgetti never knew what hit her. She took three bullets in the back and slumped forward, landing face down on the table.

Diamond Jack dived for the floor. Though he was aging, his reflexes were still sharp. He reached inside the breast pocket of his sport jacket. He drew his trusty Barreta as bullets zipped past him.

The bartender and two drunks at the bar fled, taking refuge behind counter.

Diamond Jack rolled along the floor, avoiding the deadly swarm of gunfire. He landed on his stomach, took aim at the two hit-men, and fired. His special forces training made him a marksman with any weapon. A bullet struck one of the men in the abdomen. He staggered back, his face contorting in pain and shock. The second hit-man took two shots in the chest. He fell back, hitting the floor before his mortally wounded companion--who soon followed him.

Diamond Jack staggered to his feet. He was running on pure adrenaline and failed to notice the wound on his left side. Blood soaked his jacket, forming a dark patch on the fabric. There was no time for pain. He darted to the table where Miranda Borgetti slumped. A pool of blood had collected underneath her. She was finally away from this place.

He pressed a special button on his watch and raised his wrist toward his mouth. “This is Diamond Jack. I’m coming in hot!”

He picked up the paperback book and fled from the bar.
 

Diamond Jack staggered through the streets of Belize City, swerving past startled natives and tourists. The bullet wound on his side hampered his breathing and made walking difficult. There was no sign of his pick-up.

He stepped into the path of a taxi cab. The driver slammed the brakes, missing Diamond Jack by mere inches. A honking followed. Diamond Jack continued his labored walk, leaving behind the driver’s angry curses.

He leaned against the wall of a shop. His breathing was sharp and erratic. The pain on his side was unbearable. He coughed, gazing down the street. Where was his fucking pick-up? He wasn’t going to make it. It was the first time in his life he had those thoughts. He wasn’t sure what he feared most: dying or failing? If he didn’t keep moving, he would experience both.

He continued walking along the cracked and uneven pavement. Bystanders gave him curious looks, which turned to fear when they spotted the blood on his side. He was wheezing now. He couldn’t breathe! Still, he held onto the paperback book, which was now smeared with his own blood.

He took a few more steps and stopped. His legs would not move anymore. Two well-dressed CATT agents approached from down the street. Diamond Jack was thankful he didn’t have to walk anymore, not that he could. The two men closed in on the wounded agent. Thirty meters. Twenty. Ten. . .

Diamond Jack’s face went pale and empty. He knew he was a dead man, but he had  completed his mission. Like a zombie, he offered the two men the paperback book. He smiled to himself. No regrets. He was finally going to retire.

One of the men took the book.

The other man caught the lifeless body of Diamond Jack.

***

Back at the bar, three men entered. One of the men, a strong Latin type, stepped forward as the two men behind him kept him covered, ready for anything or anyone. The Latin man glanced down at the two dead hitmen--compliments of Diamond Jack. He shook his head with disgust and paid the two men no more attention.

He then shifted his attention to the body of Miranda Borgetti, slumped over the table. He approached the dead girl as the two bodyguards waited near the entrance of  the bar. The man stood over Miranda, staring at her without a trace of emotion. He zeroed in on her hand, noticing the the gold ring on her index finger.

He casually reached inside the breast pocket of his jacket and pulled out a switchblade. He flicked it open, revealing the menacing blade. He casually grabbed the bloody hand of Miranda Borgetti and proceeded to sever the finger containing the ring.

***

Dominoe stared at Rook and Bishop as they sat on each side of the table. She sat at the end, waiting for their reaction. She hoped they made the best of it. It was going to be a long while before she had them over for dinner again. Actually, the real reason they were here was because she needed test subjects for her new hobby: cooking.

Suspecting nothing, her two fellow C.A.T.T. agents dug into the appetizing lasagna dinner. Bishop stopped chewing after the first bite. Rook uttered several stifled and mouthful coughs. Reluctantly, Bishop resumed chewing and glanced at Dominoe.

“Well?” Dominoe asked. It sounded more like a demand than a question.

Bishop smiled politely. He stole a quick glance at Rook, who was still suffering with his first bite. Bishop finally swallowed his bite in one merciful gulp. His lips quivered and his eyes welled up with tears. “It has an . . .  interesting taste,” said Bishop. “What kind of meat did you use?”

“Squid,” replied Dominoe.

“Squid,” Bishop repeated, glancing at Rook across the table. “That’s very original, Dom. Don’t you think so, Rook?”

Rook finally swallowed his bite. He nodded in agreement. “Yeah. Why make boring lasagna when you can use . . .  squid? I specially like the burning spiciness. It's like the Fourth of July in my mouth.”

“Gives it flare,” Dominoe said flatly. “Don’t you think?”

The two male agents nodded, grunting affirmatively. They knew better than to disagree with C.A.T.T.’s most deadly secret agent.

“When did you decide to take up cooking, Dom?” Rook asked.

“Yesterday.”

“Yesterday,” Bishop repeated, surprised. Dominoe shot him a piercing look. Bishop's self preservation skills took over. “That’s amazing. Dom. You’re really a fast learner. A quick study. Don’t you think so, Rook?”

Rook nodded. “It’s a shame my mother didn’t have any . . .  squid to put in her lasagna.”

“A chef is like an artist,” Dominoe said. “He or she should experiment with ingredients like a painter experiments with style and color.”

Bishop cleared his burning throat. “That’s an interesting philosophy, Dom. But do you think it applies to lasagna?”

Dominoe’s eyes narrowed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

A sudden tension filled the air. Bishop stared at Rook, hoping for help. Rook said nothing, choosing to concentrate on his lasagna instead. Bishop was in trouble and he knew it.

A ringing interrupted the awkward silence. It was the phone in the living room. Dominoe allowed the phone to ring three times before disengaging her eyes from Bishop.

“Excuse me,” said Dominoe, rising from her chair.

As soon as Dominoe left the kitchen, Rook and Bishop reached for any liquid on the table. Rook drank a full glass of wine while Bishop guzzled an entire glass of water in a span of a few seconds.

Bishop exhaled, sticking his burning tongue out. "Holy crap! That's the worst thing I've ever put in my mouth!"

Rook shook his head, grimacing. “Why couldn’t she take up painting or belly dancing?”
 

Dominoe glanced at the name displayed on her caller I.D. She picked up the phone immediately. "Yes?”

“Davis here,” said the familiar voice of the Easter Division Boss. “I’m sorry to bother you at home, Dominoe, but this can’t wait.”

“What is it, Chief?”

Davis sighed. “I know I promised you a few days to rest while intelligence gathers information on the next Savan virus mission, but something else demands our immediate attention.”

“Say no more, Chief. When do you want me to come in?”

“Tomorrow morning.”

Dominoe and Davis exchanged goodbyes. She placed the phone down and turned toward the dinning room. Before she did anything else, she was going to make Rook and especially Bishop, eat every bite of the lasagna.

***

The fifty-four-inch flat screen on the wall of the conference room displayed the image of a thin-faced unimpressive young man. Next to his image was some basic profile information.

Easter Division Chief Davis repeated the information. “Roger Eugene Baldwin, thirty-three. Former employee of Webber Tech. An award winning chemist. He’s also a pioneer in the software field.”

“Very impressive,” said Dominoe, staring at the image of Baldwin.

The sexy C.A.T.T. agent sat crossed-legged behind the conference table. Rook and Bishop sat on each side of her. They didn’t look physically well or pleased to be in the conference room.

“We can add murder and drug-trafficking to his credits,” Davis said. “And that’s only the half of it. Baldwin has somehow developed a special serum that--when injected into the body--makes a person susceptible to outside suggestions. Perhaps by using a computer terminal, or maybe even a simple device like a phone or radio.” Davis picked up a blood stained paperback book before him. “We have a sample of this drug. It was collected by one of our agents: Diamond Jack. It cost him his life.”

A moment of silence followed. The image of Baldwin was replaced with another face. This man was older and more sinister looking. His handsome Latin features were intense. His eyes cold.

“This is Juan Miguel Galvan ,” Davis continued. “He’s a drug king. Head of the Galvan Cartel. They bring in about forty-percent of the cocaine from Mexico into the United States. He’s unstable and short tempered. He’s been linked to two dozen murders of judges, policemen, and politicians. You don’t want to cross this scumbag.”

“How are these men linked together?” Rook asked impatiently, holding his stomach as he grimaced.

Davis glanced at Rook. “As I was saying, Galvan has funded Baldwin’s research into developing this mind drug. Diamond Jack was able to . . .  seduce Galvan’s girlfriend. A woman named Miranda Borgetti. Apparently, Galvan found out about it and set up an ambush. Maybe she had something to do with it. We don’t really know what happened to her.”

“Where do I come in?” Dominoe asked. “We already have a sample of the mind drug.”

Davis nodded. “That’s the good news. Unfortunately, it will take C.A.T.T. scientists months, perhaps even longer, to study the serum and develop an antidote. That maybe too late. In the meantime, Baldwin and Galvan can create havoc. No telling what they plan to use the substance for. We can only assume that they will use it to enhance their drug-trafficking business and any other crimes they choose to commit. We must prevent that--at all costs.”

“What are you asking?” asked Dominoe. “Do you want me to take out Galvan and Baldwin?”

Davis stared at the serious face of the beautiful agent. “To be blunt, yes.” His attention switched to the screen on the wall. The image of a spacious and palatial compound appeared on the screen. It was nestled among palm trees and appeared massive. “Baldwin and Galvan have taken up residence here, outside of Belize City.”

“Looks like the Playboy mansion,” said Rook.

His remark fell flat. As usual, Davis disregarded Rook’s comment. “We also have this.” Davis held up a silver wrist watch. “It belonged to Diamond Jack. Inside is a tracking device. He installed a tiny transmitter in a ring Miranda Borgetti had. If she’s still alive, then she must be near Galvan. It’s worth a try.”

Dominoe knew the mission procedure and anticipated what was next. “What’s my cover?”

Davis hesitated. He appeared to be searching for the right words. “You and . . .  Bishop will pose as a married couple . . .  on your honeymoon. Rook will be your backup.”

Bishop’s mood improved upon hearing that. Rook shot him a jealous gaze. Dominoe remained impassive. She was a professional and didn’t see the opportunity to exploit the situation like her fellow agent. Not that she ever wanted to in the first place. It was simply part of the service.

***

Dominoe and Bishop checked into the posh beach-side hotel just outside Belize City. It wasn’t just another resort hotel. This particular hotel was partly owned by Juan Miguel Galvan. It was the most logical place to begin the mission.

They checked in as Mr. and Mrs. Celestine and requested the honeymoon suite. Bishop played up the couple angle by taking every opportunity to caress and touch Dominoe. She played it cool, responding to his advances with mock reproach between fits of laughter.

Bishop stood near the large widow overlooking the courtyard of the hotel. The spacious pool area teemed with tourists clad in swimsuits and basking in the Belize sun. He focused on a particular young woman in a black bikini, lounging near the pool bar. “What a sight.” He turned to Dominoe and rubbed his hands. “How about we consummate our marriage?”

Dominoe was unpacking on the large bed. She paused briefly and stared at her fellow CATT agent decked out in a loud print shirt and tan shorts. “How about an ass kicking instead?”

"Oooh, rough sex!" said Bishop, raising his eyebrows.

Dominoe let it go and glanced at her wrist. The transmitter that had been used by Diamond Jack had been reinstalled inside her own watch. “Let’s see if we can get a signal.”

She pressed a button on the watch. The numbers disappeared, replaced by a radar image. A green blip appeared. It was accompanied by a low beeping as well as a series of numbers indicating the distance and location of the target.

“I’ll be damned,” said Bishop.

“Whoever has the ring is in the hotel,” Dominoe said. “In fact, he or she is somewhere in the courtyard.”

The two agents stepped to the window, scanning the pool area.

“Miranda Borgetti?” Bishop ventured.

“Only one way to find out.”

***

Dominoe strolled through the pool area of the resort. She wore a blue string bikini and turned every male head--along with some female heads as well. Bishop had stayed behind in “their” room. He was settling in and would join her later.

The CATT agent took a lounge chair near the pool. A pair of sunglasses allowed her to scan the area without being too obvious. She activated her tracking device discreetly. Her gaze stopped on the shapely form of a fair-skinned and toned woman sitting at the pool side bar. She had her back to Dominoe and she was unable to see her face clearly. She was sure of one thing: The woman had the transmitter ring.

Dominoe stood and made her way to the bar. “Is this seat taken?” she asked the woman, motioning to the empty chair.

The woman turned and shook her head. “Please.”

Dominoe sat next to the woman--who was actually younger than she expected. She noticed the ring on her finger. Then she noticed the striking face of the girl. Straight brown hair framed a creamy and clear complexion. Expressive brown eyes reflected a wildness within her. Her most prominent feature was her sensuous mouth. Her lips were full and tight, begging for attention. She radiated an appealing innocence, but Dominoe knew better than to be swayed by physical appearances.

A bartender stood before Dominoe. “Drink, senorita?”

Dominoe glanced at the red concoction in front of the girl. “I’ll have what she’s having?”

The bartender nodded and turned away. Dominoe decided to play the part of the sappy tourist. “I can’t believe I’m like in Belize . . .  on my honeymoon.”

This got the girl’s attention. She flashed a perfect smile “Congratulations.”

“Thank you,” said Dominoe. She looked around the pool area, feigning annoyance. “Now where is that husband of my mine? He’s on call from his job, even on our honeymoon. That’s where he is now. Can you believe that? I hope it doesn’t turn into a regular thing. He promised me it was really important, that it would only take a few minutes, but that was half an hour ago.”

The girl shrugged politely. “What can you do?” She spoke in a rich, soothing voice. The kind of voice that could persuade or convince anyone of anything.

Dominoe nodded. “You’re so right.” She accepted the red drink from the bartender. “So what brings you to Belize City, Miss.  . . . ”

“Conner,” finished the girl. “Vanessa Conner.”

“Christina Celestine,” said Dominoe, offering the girl her hand.

The girl shook her hand. “Pleased to meet you.”

“Likewise. Business or pleasure?”

The girl stirred her drink with a straw. “Pleasure.”

Dominoe smiled. “Why else would anyone come to Belize City?”

“Exactly.” The girl noticed the watch on Dominoe’s wrist. “Do you have the time?”

Dominoe glanced at her watch. “One forty-five.”

The young woman reacted with surprise. “I’m sorry but I must be off. I have an engagement. Nice meeting you. Sorry I missed meeting your husband.”

Dominoe waved her hand casually. “Perhaps later. Have a great time.”

***

It took Bishop about ten minutes to hack into the resort main computer, using the computer located in the hotel room. Dominoe and Bishop were able to discover Vanessa Connor’s room number, along with some basic profile information. She was twenty four years old, single, and listed her occupation as a part time substitute teacher currently enrolled in graduate school. Besides the room number, Dominoe gave the information little credence.

Dominoe swiped the all-access key card on Vanessa Connor’s hotel room door. It was the latest device from CATT. It was almost too easy. Bishop had watched Vanessa leave fifteen minutes before and informed Dominoe. The CATT agent was determined to find out who this girl really was and why she had the ring equipped with the transmitter.

Dominoe closed the door behind her and scanned the silent room. It was located on the top floor and much nicer than Dominoe’s own suite. The luxurious room was spacious with abnormally high ceilings, giving the place a soothing grandeur. The Mayan and African art throughout the suite looked authentic. Graduate student my behind, thought Dominoe. She took a few steps into the room, contemplating where to begin her search.

“Funny, I don’t recall ordering room service,” a familiar voice said.

Dominoe spun toward the voice. She came face to face with Vanessa Conner, who stood before a large window. She had been hiding behind the drapes all along. She was dressed entirely in black and her slender form contrasted with the beige curtains. She eyed Dominoe with a determined expression.

Instinctively, the two women jumped into a ready stance.

“Who are you?” asked Dominoe.

“You first.”

“One way or another you're going to tell me who you really are,” said Dominoe. “It’s up to you if you want to make it easy or hard.”

Vanessa Connor suppressed a smile. “Let’s make a deal. The loser tells the truth.”

“I like your style,” the CATT agent said evenly. “Let’s tango.”

The two women stepped toward each other, meeting in the center of the spacious room. They circled each other, sizing each other up like two gladiators about to engage in mortal combat.

Vanessa Conner made the first move. She leapt through the air, attempting to kick Dominoe’s face. The CATT agent sidestepped the attack. She countered with a roundhouse kick, but Vanessa ducked the sweeping leg.

The girl swept her leg across Dominoe’s ankles. Dominoe vaulted backwards, executing a perfect black flip as she avoided the leg whip. Vanessa pivoted toward Dominoe and  attacked again, unleashing a series of lightning quick forearms and punches. Dominoe bobbed, swerved, and blocked every blow. She retaliated with a spinning kick to Vanessa’s middle, sending her staggering back.

Vanessa retreated, stopping next to a coffee table. Her breathing matched the intensity in her eyes. This time it was Dominoe who initiated the attack. She darted toward Vanessa. Dominoe flew through the air, attempting to connect with a spinning kick. Vanessa dodged Dominoe’s foot. She then jumped back, landing on top of he coffee table.

Dominoe spun toward her opponent, just in time to receive a vicious kick to her chin. The CATT agent’s head snapped to the side, scrambling her bearings momentarily. Vanessa jumped down from the coffee table and followed up with a spinning kick, striking Dominoe’s chest. The CATT agent went flying, knocking over a lamp. She landed with a loud thud several meters away. Vanessa sensed victory. She dashed toward her fallen counterpart, determined to finish her off.

The CATT agent was far from done. She rocked back and launched herself to a standing position, ready to resume the fight. The two determined women clashed again. They moved throughout the living room, exchanging kicks and punches. It was a fierce give and take exchange with neither woman backing down. Furniture was overturned and artifacts were smashed.

The fighting continued into the master bedroom of the suite. Dominoe managed to grab Vanessa’s arm, holding her still as she planted two sharp kicks to her face. She then flung her against the wall, sending Vanessa crashing into a full-length body mirror, cracking the glass. Vanessa gasped, grunting with pain. She recovered quickly. She noticed Dominoe's foot in the mirror and stepped aside. The CATT agent's foot missed Vanessa but connected with the glass, shattering the cracked mirror.

Vanessa spun and struck with a sharp kick to Dominoe’s cheek. The CATT agent backtracked and hesitated, panting and gasping. Vanessa did not look any better. Loose strands of hair fell across her angular face, but her eyes did not waver from their original intensity.

“You’re very good,” Vanessa gasped. “But I'm much better.”

She charged again, chasing Dominoe out of the master bedroom and accross the living room with a combination of spinning kicks and accurate punches. Dominoe managed to avoid and block almost every blow. She suddenly lowered her shoulder and plowed into Vanessa. The two combatants fell over the couch, rolling to the floor. Arms and legs kicked and bucked wildly as they fought for any advantage.

Dominoe rolled on top of Vanessa, straddling her around her abdomen, pinning her arms against her torso. Vanessa executed a sit-up, head-butting Dominoe in the forehead. The blow left the CATT agent dazed long enough for Vanessa to land a solid punch to Dominoe’s face. Vanessa rolled on top of Dominoe, straddling her around the chest. Now she had the advantage. She prepared to finish off the CATT agent with another punch.

Vanessa failed to notice the looming figure of Bishop behind her. Bishop delivered a hard chop to the back of Vanessa Connor’s neck. She uttered a painful grunt and collapsed over Dominoe.

Dominoe looked up at Bishop with the limp body of Vanessa Connor draped over her. “What took you so fucking long?” she gasped.

***

Vanessa Connor awoke, only to find herself retrained. Actually, she was tied up on the floor of the bedroom of the hotel suite. She sat against the base of the bed, arms and elbows tied behind her with a soft but strong material. She glanced down at her body. Her ankles and knees were tied with strips of cloth, probably bed sheets.

Dominoe and Bishop stood over the bound girl. Dominoe was still recovering from the fight. She was more than impressed with the girl’s fighting skills. Had it not been for Bishop, she might be the one on the floor tied up right now. While Vanessa was unconscious, Bishop had injected her with CATT’s truth serum. Dominoe had also taken the opportunity to clean up the trashed suite. The disorder of the place was more than she could bear. Now it was time to get some answers.

“What is your real name?” Dominoe asked.

Vanessa glared at Dominoe. “Little Red Riding Hood.”

Dominoe tried again. “What is your real name?”

Vanessa was about to offer another bogus response but suddenly winced in discomfort. She closed her eyes and gasped. “Sydney . . .  Bristow,” she blurted. She was startled by her honest answer.

“Whom do you work for?” asked Dominoe.

Sydney exhaled deeply as if attempting to resist the truth drug. "I’m . . .  a double agent for the CIA. I also work for a sub-organization within the CIA called SD-6.”

“SD-6?” said Dominoe. “What’s SD-6?”

“A rouge CIA group located throughout the wrold. They deal in weapons, drugs, and intelligence. They use covert means to undermine government agencies in pursuit of their ultimate goal."

"Which is what?" asked Dominoe.

Sydney gasped. "World domination. They tricked me into thinking they were CIA.” Sydney’s face filled with a pain that went beyond the effects of the truth drug. “They killed my fiancé when I told him about SD-6.”

“Then why do you work for them?” asked Bishop.

Sydney shook her head, as if trying to clear her mind. “I’m trying to take them down. They don’t know I work for the real CIA. If they did, they would probably torture and execute me.”

Dominoe knew the truth drug would not last long, especially in strong willed subjects. “What are you doing in Belize?”

“Infiltrating the Galvan Drug Cartel,” replied Sydney. “It’s rumored they have developed a mind control drug. I’m here to verify that and collect a sample for SD-6.”

“You’re going to give this . . .  SD-6 the drug?” asked Bishop, confused. “I thought you said . . . ”

“I’m going to give them a false sample.” Sydney closed her eyes and gasped. The internal battle raged within her. “The CIA will get the real sample.” She hung her head, breathing deeply.

“Where did you get that ring?” asked Dominoe.

Sydney did not raise her head. “It's a gift from Juan Galvan. I’m . . .  posing as his mistress. He set me up here . . .  in his personal suite.”

“That explains that,” Bishop said flatly. “Drug lords get all the women.”

Dominoe ignored her partner’s remark. “Do you know who Miranda Borgetti is?”

Sydney shook her head. “Never heard of her.” She suddenly opened her eyes and looked up at Dominoe, making eye contact with the CATT agent. “What . . .  what did you give me?” she asked sharply.

Dominoe realized the effects of the drug had expired. She couldn’t help but feel guilty. From personal experience, she did not like to use mind-altering drugs. Still, it was the most effective way of obtaining information without resorting to the threat of physical harm. That threat would probably not work on this . . .  Sydney Bristow.

“My name’s Dominoe,” the CATT agent suddenly said.  “This is my partner, Bishop. We’re from a secret government organization called C.A.T.T. Covert Anti-Terrorist Taskforce.”

Bishop turned to Dominoe, taken aback by his partner's words. “What the hell are you doing?”

“Dominoe and Bishop?” Sydney said, unconvinced. “From CATT? Never heard of it.”

“Nor should you have,” Dominoe said. “All of our missions are covert. No one knows we exist. I’m here to take down Juan Galvan and a man named Roger Baldwin. He’s the one who’s developed the mind drug. It’s no rumor.”

A look of disbelief was etched on Bishop’s face. “Dom, what are you doing? Shouldn’t we clear this with CATT first?”

Dominoe ignored Bishop’s suggestion. “We already have a sample of this drug. If you agree to help me take down Galvan and Baldwin, we’ll give you part of the sample.”

“The hell we are!” Bishop exclaimed. “Dom, are you out of your mind?”

Sydney regarded Dominoe. “Why should I trust you?”

“I’m going to take down Galvan with or without you,” said Dominoe. “It’s up to you if you want to help me. If not, I advise you to stay out of my way.”

“Where is this . . .  sample?” Sydney asked.

“CATT headquarters.”

“Dom, this is not--.”

“Shut it, Bishop!”

Sydney’s eyes shifted back and forth from the two bickering CATT agents. She focused on Dominoe. “I’ll help you, if you give me the sample first.”

“Deal,” said Dominoe.

Bishop sighed with disbelief.

***

Bishop finished releasing Sydney Bristow from her bindings. She stood and stared at him as she rubbed the back of her neck. “You hit me?”

Bishop shrugged. “Sorry.”

With blinding speed Sydney buried a solid punch into Bishop’s stomach. He doubled over, groaning with pain, his eyes bulging.

“Don’t worry about it.”

Dominoe looked on, amused and impressed.

Sydney scanned the suite, suprised that it was back to it's original order. She eyed Dominoe curiously but didn't pursue the matter further.

“Where is Juan Galvan?” asked Dominoe.

“In his compound outside Belize City.” Sydney replied. “He’s having a very exclusive party tomorrow evening.” She gave Dominoe a quick look-over. “He has a weakness for beautiful women. All of his drug dealer friends will be there. They all have this weakness.”

“How am I going to get into this exclusive party?” said Dominoe.

“You’ll be my friend from college,” Sydney explained. “My less than smart friend from college. Galvan is a typical man. He’ll be pleased. If you play your part right. Can you handle it?”

Dominoe smirked at Sydney. “I’ll do my best.”

Sydney nodded. “One more thing. How do you know about me?”

Dominoe motioned to Sidney's hand. “The ring on your finger belonged to Galvan's former girlfriend. It has a transmitter in it."

Sydney raised her hand, staring at the ring. “You people are good.”

“The best,” said Dominoe.
 

***

After the suite was restored to its proper order, Dominoe and Bishop departed. Sydney Bristow waited a few minutes. She made a quick phone call and then left the hotel. She took a taxi to a nearby restaurant.

A middle-age black man, Marcus Dixon, waited for her inside the restaurant. Dixon was Sydney’s SD-6 loyal partner and her confidant. He knew nothing of her counter activities or the nefarious actions of SD-6. It bothered her each time she spoke to him about their missions. She was lying to him, concealing her true intentions. Dixon was a good man and deserved better.

Sydney took a seat across the table from Dixon. She hadn’t told him about Dominoe or CATT over the phone, but her partner immediately sensed something was wrong. She spent the next few minutes revealing her encounter with Dominoe and Bishop. As usual, Dixon listened, showing little emotion. He even managed to remain stoic when Sydney explained her intention of teaming up with this Dominoe in exchange for a sample of the mind control drug.

Dixon finally spoke. “Do you trust this . . .  Dominoe? After what they did to you? We have no idea who these people are or what they really want.”

“They know about me and our mission,” said Sidney. “It’s best I stay with them and monitor their activities.”

“Do they know about me?”

Sydney shook her head. “I didn’t tell them anything about you during my interrogation. They didn’t ask.” She glanced at her hand, which no longer had the ring on her finger. “Let’s keep it that way.”

“I still think it’s risky,” Dixon said. “We work alone. Involving anyone else only complicates things.”

Sydney sighed. “It’s not like I have a choice.”

***

Sydney and Dominoe were picked up by a car outside the hotel at six o’clock sharp. They were driven through the streets of Belize City, toward Juan Galvan’s compound. Sydney had informed Galvan about her friend, Elizabeth. He had been surprisingly accommodating about Sydney’s unexpected friend. He seemed eager to meet this girl. Perhaps because Sydney had dropped subtle hints about how attractive her friend was.

Sydney glanced at Dominoe, sitting next to her in the back seat. She had certainly told Galvan the truth about the CATT agent’s physical charms. She sported a skin tight mesh dress that was low cut and short. The mesh pattern widened around the midriff and upper thighs, enhancing the peekaboo effect. Spiked heels completed the daring outfit. Her hair was up and loose strands dangled around her sooth, sensuous neck. Sydney was actually . . .  envious of her counterpart.

Sydney was no slouch herself. She had gone all out in choosing her outfit, which consisted of a short black leather skirt, vest, and matching blazer. Knee high boots complimented her long shapely legs perfectly. She had curled her hair and applied a light base of make-up, showcasing her prominent lips. A choker, which contained a secret transmitter, was tied around her neck. Compliments of Marshall Flinkman, SD-6's awkward gadget guru.

Dominoe had kept her word regarding the drug control serum. The sample arrived early that morning, delivered by two humorless CATT agents. Sydney had no idea of the red tape and trouble Dominoe had gone through in convincing Chief Davis to surrender part of the sample to a mysterious woman. Dominoe and Davis shared a special bond and she was able to penetrate the chief’s usually stalwart position.

***

The car left Belize City and traveled along a paved coastal road. It was late evening and a golden sunset covered the western sky. Dominoe looked out the window, mesmerized by the view . . .  and Sydney Bristow. She was intrigued by the girl, from what little she knew about her. Dominoe detected a sadness in her. She had mentioned that SD-6 had killed her fiancé. Sydney Bristow seemed to have a checkered past that Dominoe would probably never understand. . .  or envy.

Galvan’s mansion came into view through the front windshield. The spacious estate was surrounded by a wooden fence covered with ivy. Though not a sports fan, it reminded Dominoe of Wrigley Field in Chicago. The effect was soothing and pleasing to the eye. She reminded herself that pleasant appearances usually belied sinister interiors.

The driver suddenly veered off the main road, making a detour along a dirt road leading into a wooded area. Sydney and Dominoe stared at each other, exchanging confused expressions.

Sydney leaned forward. “Excuse me. Where are you going?”

“You are special guests of Mr. Galvan,” the driver replied, glancing in the rear view mirror. “I have my orders from him.”

“You didn’t answer the question,” said Dominoe, sensing danger.

The driver pressed a button next to the CD player. The doors in the back of the car locked automatically. At the same time, a thick sheet of plexiglass went up between the front and back seats.

Dominoe darted toward the driver but the glass barrier stopped her attack. She and Sydney were now trapped in the backseat. Dominoe pounded on the thick glass, cursing and yelling at the driver. Sydney tried the door handle but of course it was useless.

The driver glanced in the rearview mirror, amused by the sight of the two furious although beautiful women. He could watch them curse and rant all night but he had his orders. She pressed a second button on the panel. Almost immediately the back of the car filled with a thick gas.

Sydney and Dominoe coughed and gasped as the mysterious gas attacked their noses and mouths. Still, they continued attempting to find a way out of the car. Sydney laid back on the seat and kicked at the window on her side. The blows had no effect whatsoever. The window was made of the same material as the barrier that separated them from the driver.

The driver shook his head, amused as he watched the two desperate women. He casually pressed the PLAY button on the CD player. The entire car filled with Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony. He continued his drive, thoroughly engrossed in the beautiful movement of the classical piece.

In the back seat Dominoe and Sydney were near exhaustion. Their futile attempts at escaping, along with the choking gas, had almost incapacitated them. They could do nothing but gasp and fight the drowsiness that slowly but surely descended upon them.

Sydney gave out a final gasp as she slumped down on the seat, out cold. Dominoe was able to fight off the effect of the gas for a few seconds later but eventually succumbed to the gas. She collapsed on the seat next to Sydney Bristow. The last thing she heard was the blaring classical music.

***

The raucous roar of a cheering crowd, along with a fast talking announcer, snapped Dominoe from the comfortable darkness. She moaned and opened her eyes as she lifted her head. A posh room came into focus. Details followed. A huge television screen displayed the image of a football game. A lone man stood the behind a bar, transfixed by the sound and furry of the game. His back was to Dominoe and he failed to notice that she had come to.

Dominoe immediately tasted something hard and bitter in her mouth. A ball gag. It was cinched tightly under her chin and behind her head, forcing her mouth uncomfortably apart. Thus far, it was not a good start.

She regained her full senses and found herself in a bind--literally. She stood against a smooth wall in a spread-eagle position, forming a perfect X. Her wrists and ankles were secured to the wall with metal manacles that had no slack at all. Here we go again, the CATT agent thought.

She strained her head to the left and spotted Sydney Bristow next to her. She was bound exactly like Dominoe, except that Sydney was still out. Her head hung limply from her shoulders and a long strand of drool dangled from her ball gag. Dominoe sighed with relief when she realized that they were both still dressed as when they had left the hotel and fallen into this trap. Though their respective skirts were raised higher than normal, stretching to accommodate their spread legs.

Dominoe looked away from Sydney and focused on the football-watching-man. Something had gone wrong. They had been made. It seemed they had underestimated Galvan. Dominoe watched the huge TV screen in front of the man. She finally identified the football game as Super Bowl XX, the classic blowout featuring the Chicago Bears and New England Patriots.

The Bears scored. The man whooped and hollered as if he was watching the action live. He picked up a bottle of beer on the bar next to a laptop computer and took a long swig. He suddenly turned and noticed Dominoe staring at him. Their eyes locked for a moment and he smiled. Dominoe found sports nuts disturbing, and this guy seemed to fit that mold.

She immediately recognized the man as Roger Baldwin. He hardly looked the part of a hardened criminal. He was shorter than she expected and looked younger than his thirty-three years. His wardrobe did not help matters. He was dressed in loose jeans and a white T-shirt that had the words: Girl Hunter written in black letters across the chest. A single word flashed in Dominoe’s mind: dork.

Baldwin picked up a remote control and turned the volume down on the football game. “Hi,” he said enthusiastically. “Dominoe, is it?”

Dominoe gave him an icy look. There’s a huge ball in my mouth, idiot.

At that moment, Sydney Bristow regained consciousness. She gasped as she took in the situation. She was less successful at concealing her distress than Dominoe and Baldwin seemed to enjoy the fear in her face. Dominoe had a sinking feeling that Sydney Bristow had never found herself bound and gagged before. Sydney gave Dominoe a questioning look and then turned to Baldwin.

“Hello, Sydney.” Baldwin walked out from behind the bar. “I’m Roger Baldwin, a.k.a. mind-bender. Juan Galvan is having a party downstairs and asked me to keep you company.” He studied the two bound agents. “I’m glad he did. So. . .  you two are here to . . .   take me out?”

Dominoe’s eyes narrowed. There was no denying the taunting tone in Baldwin’s voice. There was only one explanation.  Sydney Bristow's hotel room was bugged. That’s how Baldwin and Galvan knew everything. The simplicity of that fact infuriated Dominoe. She should have known better.

Baldwin’s eyes swept over the bodies of his two captives. “You chicks really have a great sense of style. Naughty yet nice. I’m glad I talked Galvan out of killing you.” He rubbed his hands. "Now that you're both awake we can begin."

Baldwin turned and walked toward the bar. Sydney and Dominoe glanced at each other, expressing mutual frustration at being utterly helpless. Baldwin picked up a strange gun from the counter. It looked like a dart gun and had a long, narrow barrel.

“You’re going to love my invention,” said Baldwin, stepping away from the counter. He stood across the room from Dominoe and Sydney. He held the gun at his side, poised and ready, like an old west gunslinger. “Like Dirty Harry once said, ‘Nothing wrong with shooting, as long as the right people get shot.’”

Baldwin raised the dart gun and fired. A single dart struck Sydney Bristow in the stomach. She flinched and uttered a muffled grunt. Dominoe braced herself, expecting a second dart to strike her. Baldwin lowered the gun, staring at Sydney proudly.

“Congratulations, Miss Bristow,” Baldwin announced. “I’ve just injected you with my very special and amazing invention. Within a few minutes your mind will be mine.” He addressed Dominoe. “You can be the control subject. Besides, I like to show off.”

Dominoe turned toward Sydney. The CIA agent closed her eyes and trembled, gasping erratically through her ball-gagged mouth. She groaned and bucked against her restraints.

“UUMMPPHHH!” Sydney screamed, clearly in the peak of her discomfort. She squirmed and thrashed as if possessed by an inner force. “MMMPHHHM! URRMMPPPHHH!”

Baldwin watched Sydney writhing, enthralled by her violent struggling. His face reflected a perverse pleasure. Dominoe glared at Baldwin. The CATT agent fumed when she realized that Baldwin was getting off from Sydney’s pain. Great, she thought. A sports loving sadist.

After a few more seconds of intense squirming, Sydney’s lithe body slackened as if all the energy had suddenly abandoned her. Her restraints prevented her from collapsing. She was still conscious and moaned softly. Her breathing steadied and she raised her head.

Baldwin stood before the laptop computer. His fingers danced across the keyboard. “I’ve created a way to . . .  connect a computer program into the brain of any subject injected with my special serum. Pure genius. In short, I can make Sydney here do anything I want.” He suddenly looked up from the computer screen, making eye contact with Dominoe. “Watch and learn, baby.”

Baldwin picked up the television remote control from the bar counter. He pointed it at Sydney and pressed a special button. The manacles around Sydney’s wrists and ankles suddenly parted. She was free but did nothing. She simply stood at attention with a blank expression.

Baldwin rubbed his hands together, eyeing Sydney like a wolf about to devour a helpless lamb. “Come here, Sydney,” he ordered.

Sydney Bristow walked toward Baldwin. She seemed to be aware of her surroundings but her free will was obviously gone. She stood before him, awaiting further instructions. The ball-gag was still stuffed in her mouth, but she seemed not to notice.

“Remove your gag,” Baldwin said, stressing the words for phony emphasis.

Sydney reached up and unbuckled the straps under her chin and behind her neck. She pulled the ball from her mouth, taking a long strand of drool with it. She dropped the ball-gag on the floor.

“Much better,” said Baldwin. He circled Sydney, studying her shapely body carefully. He suddenly stopped before her. “From now on, Sydney, I’m your daddy.” Baldwin stared at Dominoe. “I love this part.”

Dominoe shot Baldwin an icy look. She flinched in her restraints, pulling uselessly against the wrist manacles. She could only imagine what was coming next.

Baldwin shifted his attention back to Sidney. “Who’s your daddy, Sydney?”

“You are,” replied Sydney.

“Who?”

“You are.”

“Say it.”

“You’re my daddy.”

Baldwin stepped behind Sydney. “Damn right I am.” He swatted her shapely behind sharply. The leather skirt amplified the smacking sound, producing a loud popping.

Baldwin stood behind Sydney and crossed his arms. “Take your clothes off, Sydney. . .  slowly.”

Without any hesitation whatsoever, Sydney Bristow began to strip . . .  slowly. She removed her leather blazer, dropping it at her feet. Her sleeveless leather vest followed. She slipped it past her arms, dropping it on the floor along with her jacket. She wasn’t wearing a bra and her small but firm breasts protruded from her upper torso, like two ice cream scoops side by side, ready to be licked and enjoyed.

Baldwin raised his eyebrows, impressed by the sight of the topless CIA agent. Sydney reached behind her, unzipped the leather skirt, and tugged it past her hips. She bent forward, sliding the skirt down her shapely legs. It hissed as it brushed her silky smooth skin. She stepped out of the skirt and stood before Baldwin clad only in her leather boots, black G-string panties and choker.

“Stop,” Baldwin ordered, stepping in front of Sydney. He took in the sight of Sydney Bristow’s seminude body. “I like to leave a little to the imagination.” He turned and winked at Dominoe.

Dominoe continued watching, her heart pounding away, her anger rising. If only she could get free. Adding to her humiliation was the fact that she had started drooling. A long strand of glistening spit hung from the bottom of her ball-gag. She shook her head in a futile attempt to sever the drool strand but it only rocked sideways and stretched further.

Baldwin continued degrading Sydney Bristow. “Get on your knees and suck my cock, Sidney. Give me the greatest blow job you’ve ever given in your life. Understand?”

“I understand,” Sydney said enthusiastically.

Sydney Bristow, chaste but deadly CIA double agent, had no idea what was happening to her as she knelt before Baldwin. She felt herself drifting. Not her body, but her mind. Nothing else mattered but the compelling voice of her Master. And yet she did not mind. She didn’t care. Her mind was receptive to infinite suggestions that she was only too willing to fulfill.

At this moment, her mission was to suck her Master’s cock. She stood on her knees before him and unbuttoned his jeans eagerly. She pulled his zipper down and plunged her hand inside his fly, searching for his member. She pulled the limp cock from his pants and quickly went to work on it. She stroked the shaft and caressed his balls. In a matter of seconds the cock was rock hard and ready. Sydney couldn’t help but feeling a surge of excitement as she handled the cock. She loved giving head. What woman didn’t like the feel of man’s organ inside her mouth?

She attacked the erect penis, licking the balls and smothering the shaft with her moist full lips. After bathing the entire penis with saliva she turned her head parallel to the stiff member and pretended to bite it, being extra careful with her teeth. She ran her mouth back and forth along the glorious instrument, teasing her Master. He gasped and twitched excitedly at her gentle touch.

She suddenly reached up and took the base of the cock in her left hand. She flicked her tongue at the top, barely making contact with it. Her left hand stroked and squeezed her Master’s balls ever so gently. He was shuddering and breathing deeply. His excitement was contagious and Sydney’s arousal increased with each passing second. Her nipples hardened and her cunt ached sweetly.

She took the head of the cock in her mouth, sucking and licking enthusiastically. She found the opening at the tip of the cock and gave it extra attention with her expert tongue. Her Master responded with a series of groans and sharp gasps. This only motivated Sydney to further enhance his pleasure. Her ultimate goal was to please.

Her mouth advanced gradually, enveloping the cock slowly. She took the shaft in a centimeter at a time. As she enveloped the cock she pulled back, sucking hard while her tongue caressed the bottom of the prick. She would then plunge her mouth further down the shaft, advancing a centimeter more than before. Her Master was squirming and moaning over her, running his hands through her hair. Sydney continued taking his cock insider her until she had no more room for him. She then worked her mouth back and forth furiously.

Dominoe couldn’t watch any longer. She turned her head and everted her eyes. She wished she could cover her ears and block out the sounds of Sydney’s ravenous mouth on Baldwin’s cock. Part of her was utterly disgusted by the spectacle while deep down inside there was a more primal feeling fighting its way to the surface: arousal.

Dominoe had always been aroused by the thought of wild sex. There was nothing more erotic than watching and listening to two people engaged in a “forbidden” sexual encounter. The fact that Baldwin was in total command of Sydney’s actions did not dampen the mood. It merely injected a certain air of . . .  cheapness to the act. Watching a sex act was much more exciting when there was an element of depravity in the equation. This certainly fit that mold.

Dominoe’s cunt throbbed, sending a wonderful tingling sweeping throughout her helpless body. She closed her eyes and exhaled. If only she wasn’t restrained. Then she could reach down between her legs and . . .

What was she thinking? Baldwin was actually raping Sydney. She should have felt anger and disgust at his actions, but her quivering body had other . . .  feelings. Dominoe had long since accepted that when it came to sex, the desires of body far outweighed the objections of the mind.

Sydney sucked Baldwin’s cock halfway into her mouth. She paused briefly, allowing her Master to enjoy the sensation of her mouth on his member. He was panting wildly, nearing his climax. Sydney’s twirling tongue and persistent mouth had almost driven him mad, but he had somehow held out. She took it as a challenge to make him come.

Sydney continued taking more of the cock into her mouth-slowly. She took a deep breath through her nose and held it. She suddenly gripped Baldwin’s buttocks and slid her entire mouth over his cock, tilting her head back slightly. The cock slid smoothly down her throat until it disappeared completely inside her. Sydney’s face was now buried in Baldwin’s bush and her chin grazed his balls.

She moaned deeply, further aroused by having her Master’s entire cock in her mouth and throat. Baldwin proceeded to throat-fuck her, sliding his shaft in and out of her with a steady rhythm. Each time the cock reached her throat she held it there briefly, thrilled by the notion of being able to engulf him fully. Her cunt was streaming and she trembled with excitement.

As Baldwin’s throat-fucking continued, Sydney gave his cock extra pleasure by caressing the bottom with her tongue. Baldwin interlocked his hands behind her head and drove her back and forth on his cock. It seemed like he was attempting to ram his prick down into her stomach and out through her cunt. Sydney’s discomfort was overshadowed by sheer pleasure. She was completely determined to give her Master the greatest blow job she had ever given in her life. The intense throat fucking continued.

Dominoe squirmed and grunted through the ball gag. She couldn’t help but steal quick glances at what Sydney Bristow was doing to Baldwin’s cock. The sight of Sydney’s face in his groin along with the smacking and sucking noises all combined to drive the C.A.T.T. agent toward a hurried climax. For a split second she actually wished she was in Sydney’s position. She wished someone would relieve her by touching her down there.

She twisted, jerked, and bucked in her restraints. The metal manacles actually enhanced her arousal. It was like having a blindfold during foreplay, only much better. She continued to suffer while Sydney Bristow continued to have her throat ravished by Baldwin's pumping cock.

After an intense session of furious throat fucking, Sydney finally pushed Baldwin over the edge. She felt his cock pulse and twitch in her mouth. He uttered a loud grunt and shot his initial load down her throat and toward her stomach. Instinctively, Sydney pushed his hips away, pulling his cock from her throat. Baldwin shot another load of cum in her mouth. She swallowed it eagerly and held the cock there, allowing him to finish. Baldwin panted and shuddered as he descended from his orgasm. He kept his cock in Sydney’s warm mouth until it softened.

“MMMMMMPHHHH,” Dominoe moaned, in the throes full arousal. Her eyes were closed and she was shaking her head while she slithered, her bindings preventing her from doing anything about her aching body. Her breath came in short spurts and she was now drooling profusely through the ball-gag. She was wet and sticky. She needed to be touched, stimulated, and thoroughly fucked.

Baldwin finally withdrew his cock from Sidney’s mouth. He patted her head. “Well done, Sydney, but you can do better.”

Sydney looked disappointed at not pleasing her Master entirely. “I can do better,” she said flatly. Her tone suddenly brightened. “Can I please try again? I promise it will better.”

Baldwin tucked his penis inside his pants. “Not now. Daddy’s recharging. You may stand.”

Sydney rose to her feet, awaiting further orders.

Baldwin approached Dominoe. He was still basking in the afterglow of the incredible blow job he had recieved from Sydney Bristow. The CATT agent was still breathing hard, still aching for sexual release. She looked up at Baldwin, angry at him for humiliating her like this. She would worry about Baldwin later. At this moment her only objective was to finger fuck herself till her body was content. She continued writhing in her tight bonds.

Baldwin smiled thinly. “You naughty girl,” he taunted. “You enjoyed the show, didn’t you? Since you’ve been a great audience, I’m going to reward you.” He turned to Sydney Bristow, who was still clad in her panties, knee high boots, and choker. “Sydney, give your hot friend here some pleasure.”

Sydney said nothing as she approached Dominoe with a determined expression. Dominoe stared into Sydney’s eyes. Even under the influence of the mind drug there was still a hint of raw emotion within CIA agent’s countenance: lust. Sydney proceeded to unbuckle Dominoe’s ball-gag. She pulled the rubber ball from her mouth and discarded the gag, her eyes never wondering from Dominoe’s face.

Dominoe took a deep breath and exhaled, relieved to be free of the rubber ball. Her hungry gulps of air were cut short when Sydney’s mouth connected with her lips. The CATT agent’s eyes widened and a startled grunt escaped her lips as Sydney Bristow plunged her tongue deep inside her mouth. She was gentle at first, but her kissing soon intensified.

Dominoe welcomed Sydney’s wonderful mouth. She slipped her tongue between Sidney’s teeth. Tasting her. Savoring her. Sydney had a delicious freshness and Dominoe couldn’t get enough. Their passionate tongue wrestling went on. . . and on. . . and on. . .

Sydney pressed her body against Dominoe. Her hands slipped discreetly down the CATT agent’s sides, stopping at her thighs. She slipped her hands under the hem of Dominoe’s mesh skirt and pulled it up. Dominoe’s mind was still enthralled by Sydney’s kissing and she failed to notice that her skirt was now up around her waist.

Sydney pulled away from Dominoe’s mouth, leaving the CATT agent breathless and hungry for more. Her mouth soon found Dominoe’s ears, cheeks, and neck. She kissed and licked every part of her face. Dominoe gasped, panting softly. Sydney’s touch was nothing short of bliss and she wanted stimulation between her burning thighs.

It was as if Sydney had read her mind. She plunged her right hand inside the front of Dominoe’s panties. The CATT agent’s body tensed with anticipation. Sydney inserted one finger . . .  then two inside Dominoe’s throbbing cunt. She fingered her expertly, twirling and penetrating her opening with just the right amount of manual stimulation.

Sydney’s left hand pulled at the neckline of Dominoe’s low cut dress. It took her a couple of rough jerks to yank the neck of the mesh dress down past Dominoe’s breasts, exposing her black lace bra. Sydney pulled the bra up and over Dominoe’s breasts, revealing her perfect mounds completely. The CATT agent shut her eyes and moaned, feeling Sydney’s fingers on her cunt. Then she felt Sydney’s mouth on her breasts, licking and sucking gently, trapping her hard nipple buds between her full lips.

The foreplay was almost too much for Dominoe. Her restrained body arched forward as it received wave after wave of constant pleasure. She trembled violently with unabashed excitement. Her breathing was sharp and erratic. Her moans intensified as Sydney Bristow slowly but surely drove her toward the edge of desire.

Sydney withdrew her mouth from Dominoe’s breasts. She pulled her hand away from the CATT agent’s moist pussy and brought her fingers up to her lips. Sydney licked and sucked the juice from her fingers as if she had just finished enjoying a delicious albeit messy food.

Sydney went down to her knees, kneeling before Dominoe as her hands journeyed down the CATT agent’s squirming body. Her hands moved up Dominoe’s smooth thighs. She hooked her fingers inside the waistband of her panties and pulled them down around her upper thighs. She gripped Dominoe’s taut buttocks with both hands and drew her crotch toward her mouth.

Sydney’s lips brushed against Dominoe’s mound, forcing the CATT agent to twitch with anticipation. Sydney licked and probed the area around Dominoe’s pussy, teasing her into a frenzy. Dominoe bucked against her manacles, chaffing her wrists and ankles. She didn’t care. The only thing that mattered was satisfying her sexual urge.

Sydney’s thumbs found Dominoe’s labia. She ran them along the lips, tracing long and slow deliberate strokes along the length as she parted them apart. She stretched Dominoe’s cunt lips open, exposing her pink sweetness.

Sydney buried her mouth inside the opening. She concentrated on Dominoe’s engorged clit, sucking it gently. Each time she pulled her mouth back she would flick the clit with the tip of her tongue, sending waves of blissfulness pulsating though Dominoe’s body.

Dominoe moaned, gasping loudly as she arched her body. She clenched her fists as the intense stimulation that originated from Sydney’s tongue threatened to overwhelm her. Sydney pulled Dominoe’s cunt further apart, almost painfully. She pressed her lips against Dominoe’s pussy, taking it entirely in her mouth. Her tongue continued working, twisting and drilling inside Dominoe’s wet cunt without mercy. Every so often she would return to her clit.

Dominoe could not hold back any longer. “OOOOOHHHHHHHH!” she exclaimed between gasps. “OHHHH MY GODDDDD! YESSSSS! YEEEEESSSS! SO GOOOOOOD!”

Dominoe’s cries of pleasure only fueled Sydney’s desire to please. She stepped up her oral assault. She fucked Sydney’s cunt with urgency as the CATT agent shrieked and moaned over her. She flicked, licked, and sucked every inch of the pussy. Dominoe shuddered, lost in the mind numbing pleasure.

Still, Sydney Bristow did not let up. She continued eating out Dominoe’s pussy with incredible resolve and stamina. Each time she brought Dominoe near orgasm she would relax and allow her to descend from her incredible pleasure. It was like a game to her, and Dominoe was nearing exhaustion. She couldn’t take much more teasing. She needed to come!

Baldwin stood behind Sydney, smiling sadistically as he watched. He knew exactly what was happening and took special pleasure in watching Dominoe squirm as she begged for sexual release. “Stop, Sydney,” Baldwin suddenly ordered.

Sydney Bristow immediately ceased pleasuring Dominoe. She withdrew her tongue from the CATT agent’s pussy and stood on her knees before her gasping counterpart. Dominoe groaned in agony. She had been so close to a shattering climax and just as quickly she had been denied. It wasn't fair! She pulled on her wrist and ankle bonds with utter frustration, twisting furiously. She gasped and groaned, her breasts heaving.

“Step away from your friend, Sydney,” said Baldwin, making his way to the bar counter.

Sydney obeyed the command. She stood and backed away from Dominoe. Anything for her Master.

“Please,” Dominoe begged, gasping. “Let me . . .  finish. Please!”

Baldwin stared at the trembling CATT agent. “Don’t worry. You will get plenty of satisfaction later . . .  but for now. . . .”

Baldwin picked up the dart-gun from the bar, aimed it at Dominoe, and fired a single shot. A dart struck Dominoe in the abdomen. She uttered a startled gasp and tensed.

***

Inside a parked van, in a wooded area near Galvan’s property, Marcus Dixon listened in stunned silence as his partner, Sydney Bristow, did things he never imagined her doing. His initial reaction was to tear the earphones off his head, but a morbid fascination had compelled him to listen. He wished he hadn’t because he now felt sleazy and guilty.

His heart pounded wildly and he trembled with anger. Sydney was his partner and it was up to him to watch her back. He had done a poor job thus far. He had failed to find the bug in Sydney’s hotel room and now he could do nothing but sit and listen to this pervert have his way with Sydney.

He had reported Sidney’s capture to SD-6 headquarters, but had been ordered to stand by. Damn that Sloane! Dixon knew it was the SD-6 director's orders. They had no idea of the serious trouble Sydney was in. So for the past two hours, Marcus Dixon sat in the back of the van and listened in horror as his partner engaged in sordid sexual escapades. He never felt so helpless in his life.

***
 
Rook and Bishop moved through the thick woods that surrounded Galvan’s estate. Dominoe had failed to check in as planned. Something had gone wrong and it was up to them to locate their fellow agent. They donned camouflaged uniforms and were armed with assault rifles, handguns, and knives. They were treating this as a rescue mission until they knew otherwise.

They stopped in their tracks when they spotted the dark van parked on the side of the dirt road at the edge of the woods. They stared at each other, not sure what to make of it. Bishop motioned for Rook to hold his position.

Bishop emerged from the woods and approached the van cautiously, his weapon locked and ready. He noticed that the front seat was empty. He moved along the side of the van, stopping before the sliding door. He gripped the door handle with his left hand.

Bishop pushed the sliding door open. He gripped his weapon with both hands, searching for a target. Aside from some monitors and keyboards, the van was empty, or at least it gave the appearance . . .

CRACK!

Bishop felt a vicious kick to his chin as an outstretched leg from inside the van made contact with his face. The blow stunned him and sent him staggering. He recovered in time to see a black man jump out of the van and charge at him.

The black man followed up with a solid punch to Bishop’s stomach. The CATT agent doubled over in pain. The man then delivered a knee to Bishop’s face. Bishop dropped his assault rifle and fell back, groaning. The black man spotted the weapon on the ground and made a move toward it.

“Hold it!”

Dixon froze. He looked up and spotted a second man in camouflaged fatigues, aiming an assault rifle at him. For a split second, Dixon contemplated playing the odds and reaching for the rifle. He was a smart man and reason won out.

Rook studied Dixon. “Who are you?”

“A black guy inside a van in the middle of nowhere,” Dixon replied. There was nothing in his voice to indicate sarcasm. “Who are you?”

Bishop rose to his hands and knees. He glared at Dixon. “I’m the guy who’s gonna kick your ass!” He shot to his feet and made a move toward Dixon.

“Bishop!” Rook warned.

For some unexplained reason, Bishop ceased his attack.

Dixon’s eyes narrowed when he heard the name. “You’re Bishop?”

Bishop grabbed his nose, wincing with pain. “You know me?”

Dixon knew the longer he engaged in this banter, the worse it got for Sidney. “I’m Sydney Bristow’s partner.”

“She didn’t say anything about having a partner,” Bishop countered.

“You didn’t ask her.”

“All right, cut the bullshit,” said Rook. “Do you know where Dominoe and your partner are?”

“In Galvan’s estate,” Dixon replied. "Some guy named Baldwin. . .  has them. Sydney has a secret transmitter. I’ve been listening in.”

“Are they all right?” asked Bishop.

“For now.”

Rook lowered his weapon and relaxed. “Looks like we’re in the same boat.”

“Three’s better than two,” Bishop added grudgingly.

Rook peered inside the van. “Got anything in there for a rescue mission?”

Dixon remained impassive. “Maybe.”

***

Roger Baldwin circled Dominoe and Sidney. He wore dark slacks and a black and white striped referee shirt. A whistle hanged around his neck.  The two agents stood at attention, under his control, and wearing nothing but thong bikini bottoms. Behind them was a circular ring that resembled a child’s swimming pool. It was eight meters in diameter and covered with a layer of scented oil.

A group of sharply dressed but rugged looking men stood around the room, forming a circle around Baldwin and the two women. Their intense eyes were clearly focused on the two seminude young women. Juan Galvan stood inside the circle of men, his arms crossed, watching impatiently.

Baldwin paced around Sydney and Dominoe, like a ring master explaining an upcoming show. “As you can see, gentlemen, these two lovely specimens are under my command. They will do anything I say. Even fight to the death. Using my computer terminal, I can program them to do anything.”

“How long does this control last?” came a question from one of the men.

Baldwin stopped pacing. “I have yet to test the limits of my mind control serum, but I can assure you that there is no way the control can be broken. You see, the brain--.”

“Explain your plan,” Galvan interrupted.

Baldwin turned to Dominoe and Sidney. “It’s very simple. We will use one of these hot babes to undertake a very special mission on our behalf. They will. . . fight for the honor to be chosen for this mission. The loser will. . .” Baldwin regarded the circle of hardened criminals. “Let’s just say one of you will be very lucky, if the price is right.”

This produced an excited murmuring from the collection of men.

Baldwin clapped his hands together. “Now for the moment you’ve all been waiting for.” He addressed Sydney and Dominoe. “Please get in the ring.”

Dominoe and Sydney stepped over the border of the plastic ring and faced each other, waiting for further instructions.

Baldwin turned to the men. “Just to make the match more interesting, please feel free to place your bets.”

“Get on with it,” Galvan muttered.

Baldwin shrugged. “Cool.” He turned to the two agents, making a sweeping gesture with his hands. “Okay, ladies, show time!”
 

END OF PART ONE