Chapter One
March 2nd, 5:00 PM
Brent Hammerson hadn't heard from Sunny in days.
He sat at his desk in his office, his fingers running through his slicked-back hair.
There was a bill in front of him, a stack of papers about six inches high. He didn't care. He wasn't thinking about his day job at all. These days, he was only thinking about the Blue Lynx.
"Mr. Hammerson?"
He looked up. The intern. She had started here a couple of weeks ago. A young thing, a cute girl. Long dark hair, like the Blue Lynx. Was she the Blue Lynx? That's what Hammerson was trying to figure out.
"She'll be coming for me," he thought. "She'll find a way to get near me. She'll go undercover."
"Mr. Hammerson?" the intern repeated. "Are you alright?"
Long dark hair, crisp lavender blouse, short black skirt, long legs. Standing there, in front of the desk, the two of them alone in his office. She was holding a manilla folder stuffed with papers close to her ample chest. Very cool, very cocky. Oh yes. Definitely the Blue Lynx. What was the girl's name? Rose?
"Oh yes, quite alright," Hammerson said, resting his hands on the desk. "How are you doing... Blue Lynx?"
The girl blinked at him.
"What did you just call me?"
Hammerson swallowed. "Uh, I think you know, what I just called you."
"You called me the Blue Lynx, didn't you?"
"Yes, I did," Hammerson said, running his fingers through his hair. "Because, uh, that's, who..."
The girl stepped back. "You think I'm the Blue Lynx?"
Hammerson shut his eyes. God. What the hell was he doing?
"No, sorry, umm," he said. "I misspoke."
The girl laughed. "That's okay, Mr. Hammerson. Hey, Rob wanted you to go through these papers. I'm just gonna set em right here on your desk."
She laid the folder next to Hammerson's slightly twitching hand.
"I'll see you later," she said.
Hammerson watched as the intern sashayed toward the door.
"You want this shut?" the girl asked, turning her head around.
"Yes, please," Hammerson said.
The girl closed the door, leaving Hammerson alone, staring vacantly at his desk, eying the pile of papers and the folder and his lamp and the back of the name plate that read "Speaker of the House."
He was getting paranoid, and his staffers knew it. They didn't know why, of course, and they never would, if Hammerson could help it. He liked to think he was extra careful about his secrets. Unfortunately, there was at least one young woman who was well-aware of his dark double life. And that young woman was apparently back from a long hiatus.
And now, he needed to hear from his right-hand woman. He needed some reassurance that something was being done... that his "Fearsome Five" was actually being, well, "fearsome."
His cell phone buzzed. His hand dove into his pocket and pulled out the device.
Sunny was calling.
Finally.
"What's up," he said, bringing the phone to his face. "Why haven't I heard from you?"
"It's a long fucking story," Sunny grumbled. "Fucking long, fucking story."
"I've got time," Hammerson said, looking carelessly at the papers on his desk.
And Sunny proceeded to tell it all: Lora's plan. The trap set by the journalist, Julia Wright. How Lora and Steve had captured the Blue Lynx and taken her to Lora's house. How they were inches from unmasking her when that bitch of a partner came out of nowhere and knocked them all out. How, when they woke up, they'd found the basement crumbling all around them. How Steve had been just barely able to get Sunny out, how Julia and Lora were surely killed, how the ninja had dug through dirt and branches and concrete and wood and debris and burst from the ground, Sunny in his arms, like the fucking creature from the black lagoon. How they had gotten to their truck and the truck had been destroyed, probably by the Blue Lynx in some bullshit act of revenge. How they'd walked for miles through the forest until the came to a highway and hitchhiked their way into town. How she hadn't had time, or the ability, to call.
"Jesus Christ," Hammerson said. "That was a long fucking story."
"Well, I fucking told you it would be," Sunny growled.
"So Lora is dead. Julia Wright is dead. That means there's you, Steve, and Todorov."
"And Todorov barely counts," Sunny said. "The man is useless."
Hammerson shook his head. "Well, you're going to have to use him, Sunny. Because the Blue Lynx is back. She's been going out again. And..."
"I know, I know," Sunny said. "Trust me, I want the bitch as much as you do."
"So, what's going to happen? What's the plan this time?"
"Well, Steve and I have had a lot of time to think about it," Sunny said. "And it's pretty obvious what needs to happen. We need to go after the partner. That little cunt swoops in and saves her punk girlfriend's ass every single time."
Hammerson smiled. "Okay," he said, drumming his fingers on the desk. "I like this idea."
"We capture her, and the Blue Lynx will come crawling to us like a kitten."
Hammerson could feel himself getting giddy. "Yes, yes. Brilliant, Sunny."
"We know that she comes along with the Blue Lynx every time. We just need to find her in her little car and take her."
Hammerson was standing up now. He could barely contain himself.
"We'll surprise them," Sunny continued. "We'll wait until they aren't expecting us."
"Right," Hammerson said, his head nodding feverishly. "Yes, yes, yes."
"It shouldn't be hard. After all, the bitch thinks I'm dead."
Sunny laughed. And Hammerson joined her.
"I'm so happy you're alive and well, Sunny my dear," he cackled, galloping around his office, pushing papers off his desk, a new man.
On to Chapter Two
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