It was a large beach house that was the size of most high schools. Occupying a pleasant strip of the Mediterranean beach on the coast of France it also had secure airspace and water around it. Even though the buyer had questionable criminal activities a little money in the French government goes a long way. Besides the protection of the government, a series of discreet black clad women watched the perimeters. Armed with assault rifles they usually caused any interested party to quickly depart, usually not taking the time to notice their skin tight black clothing.
Inside one of the balcony rooms, with a lovely view of the sunset three women sat and watched. One had blonde hair, the other two brunets. The blonde wore a light blue bikini and some see through matching fabric that hugged her like a toga. One brunet wore a one piece black swimsuit and sunglasses, the other sill dressed formally with a black blouse, skirt and sun tan colored tights.
“You should change Claire, you are far too tense.” The blonde spoke.
Claire laughed. She kicked off her heels and placed her nylon encased legs on a foot cushion, “I’m fine now, you must love defense attorneys.” She had just won her freedom for another crime.
“Of course you have to love them. Plus the French.” The blonde Victoria Stackhouse smiled. Her bribes to certain French officials had worked out well, keeping the CIA and FBI out of her hair, while she was here. That allowed her to extend her growing criminal net.
Russian Defense contractors, Chinese Generals, North Korean chemical warfare producers, all could be at her beck and call. Already she had made her name as the premier black market weapons contractor. Her latest venture had been the acquiring of some F-14 fighter parts for Iran to keep their remaining F-14s from the Shah’s era flying. The Brain Trust was becoming richer each day, and despite the best efforts of organizations like ANGELS, INTERPOL, the FBI she was in business and it was booming. Not even the pesky superheroines running around had put much of dent in her operations.
Now sitting here enjoying the sunset, it was time to plan for their next project.
“Mary your contacts in the DOD?” Victoria asked.
Mary Patterson, wearing the one piece sat up and removed her sunglasses, “He says that the new XM-250 will be ready for testing next week. If we want to move…”
“Of course we want to move. I have several very interested parties. Russia, China, the French.” Victoria smiled; her successful negotiating and her long shapely legs had made sure there were plenty of potential buyers.
“Let’s send my niece. She can test out our other new piece of equipment.” Mary offered. Victoria and Claire frowned. She saw it, “What she’s the prefect candidate.”
“With an unhealthy fixation.” Claire added.
Mary laughed, “Any more than yours? Running off to the Pacific with a teenager who had too much time on her hands.” Claire fumed at that comment, partially because it was true.
“Jessica will control herself, I assure you.” Mary said. The two other partners looked at each other and nodded. Mary smiled in return.
“All right she can go, but she is to keep her responsibilities in her mind.” Victoria said sternly.
The beach house had many rooms. One of which was a high tech command center. Cameras covered every possible angle, data screens showed information gathered by Brain Trust agents from around the world, and it even had systems to link into French Military systems. Right now three of the techs were having fun watching the radar data from a French E-3 Sentry.
Watching the techs at work was the woman only known as the Professional. Her name was only known to the three bosses above and even then she didn’t encourage them to use it. She could speak fifteen different languages, change her features with make up and special cosmetics. Right now she had short brown hair and green eyes. She was also dressed casually in a short black tee shirt and yoga pants. A phone rang on one of the consoles and one of the techs picked it up.
“Boss, its Ms. Patterson.” She said. The Professional took the phone, listened then hanged up. Without a word she walked out of the Command Center.
Her next stop was a workout/gym room. Inside a series of wrestling mats had been laid out. In the middle practicing a series of strikes and kicks was a young red head. Her top was incased in a tight black sports bra. Black spandex workout pants hugged her legs. Jessica Patterson was not the college girl who had battled it out with Supergirl two years before. Now she was a lovely 22 year old with fine muscles and combat training that made her a lethal weapon. She was fueled by a goal, the elimination of Supergirl.
She had stripped Jessica of her powers, and got her thrown in prison. Now she was out and had trained her body each day for her one task in life. The day she would have Supergirl in her grasp, weak, helpless waiting for the final blow that would end her career, maybe her life.
“Jessica.” She heard.
Turning she ceased her attractions, “Boss, what do you want.” Although her aunt was one of the founders of their little criminal enterprise, it was well established where she was, and where Jessica was.
“You have been given an assignment.” The Professional said. Jessica smiled, finally a chance to show my skills.
The Professional walked deeper into the room to talk face to face, “Fermi Labs.” She expected the coming look of joy over Jessica’s face.
“And you’ll have strict rules.” Her boss added.
Jessica furrowed her eyebrows, “What?”
The professional closed her face right next to Jessica’s, “It means that if a certain Girl of Steel shows up you are to complete your mission, not a personal vendetta.”
Jessica soured; she was expected to run…no not after all this time! The boss could see her continued anger and decided it was time to give her some of the good news.
“Since you will be in Supergirl’s turf though you will be allowed to tryout the XM-50 Exosuit.”
Jessica beamed at those words. “So it’s ready?” she asked with eager anticipation.
The professional nodded. Jessica screamed yes and eagerly asked when she could try it out.
“We’ll start immediately.” Jessica followed her out of the gym and the two moved towards the lab. After the short stroll they now were inside the lab and headed to where a technician worked on the exosuit. It was on a mannequin, Jessica looked it up and down.
It looked like a one piece catsuit to start off. Going from neck to toe, everything but her head would be incased in what looked like black lyrca and nylon, but was really a special mix of Kevlar and fiberoptic energy lines. The next piece of the suit was a one piece sleeveless leotard. Again it looked like lyrca and spandex but wasn’t. Also on the leotard was belt that lead to a small flat rectangular solid buckle in the center. From the buckle a series of thin tubes that appeared to be large pieces of thread went around and to the back of the leotard from across the abs. Two tubes traveled up the stomach and encircled the breasts then cut each one in half by running across the diameter of the breast.
Jessica was smiling with visions of Supergirl being pounded by her in the suit, “So did we get all the requirements?”
“Yes, strength, speed, invulnerability where the suit covers your skin, and ability to fire and energy beam from the finger tips.” The professional answered. Jessica ran her hand down the fabric enjoying the feel of the power that would soon come through it.
“The power source?” she asked.
“Installing it today.”
She walked by the stars on the wall. Looking them over, she knew each one of those stars had been an officer who gave their life in the service of the Agency. I nearly became one of them, she thought. Jennifer Ryan, ANGELS operative quickly flashed her Agency badge and proceeded to the elevators. Her dark clothes were evident of the coming mood she expected from the staff near her boss. Once she was up on the seventh floor of the CIA Headquarters building she proceeded to the office of her boss, Karla Lee. Some of the stares she got were quite menacing as she expected. Even with the arrest of the Deputy Director as the leak in the Agency, she was still a product of suspicion.
Her drug induced leak had been covered up pretty well, agents reassigned, missions changed, millions spent as a result. That is what had made her the target of the CIA’s internal security, she cost the bureaucrats lots of money. Probably part of the reason she was re-staffed to the analyst position in ANGELS. Even then I bet what I get is filtered, she thought. Her career was over, she’d talked, and people were hurt as a result. So why am I being called to the head of operations? Jen pondered.
“Jen, take a seat.” Lee offered as she came through the door. Karla was finishing up some paperwork that needed her ‘utmost attention’ but really didn’t. Damn bureaucrats, she thought. As much as the CIA was assumed to have magical and evil governmental powers, it was still another government agency.
“So I bet you’re wondering why I called ya up here.” She began.
Jennifer nodded, “I am, I thought I was off field ops?”
Karla sighed, “Listen, I didn’t agree with the decision. I fought it but there were higher forces at play, but since the latest incident with the Deputy Director I can you get back in.”
Jen sat a little straighter not believing it. Karla continued, “What do you know about Railguns?”
“Well…no propellant right? They use magnets to fire bullets at super high velocities.” Jen furrowed her eyebrows trying to recall everything on the subject.
“Right, anyway the DOD has been working on them since the early eighties. They got a boost in funding during SDI spending but, the problem with them is the power requirements are extremely high. Smallest they worked one down could be placed on a battleship, and would have taken up the entire bow. Not anymore.” Karla handed her a briefing book. Jen flipped through it while Karla kept talking.
“Fermi Labs worked out a new way to do it, balancing the power and size issues. In fact they now have a working prototype with more on the way.”
“Let me guess, someone is taking an interest in the project.” Jen finished. Karla nodded.
“Yep, Russia, China, Europe, you name it they want it. So security has gone up the wazo around the damn thing. It’s going to move out to Groom Lake for more testing, that way it be safe from everyone.” Lee explained.
“So, you want me to watch over the thing?” Jen asked.
“No, steal it.”