Laila reclined her seat, bobbing in thought. Jada tapped her fingers against the sleek steering wheel. Ciema looked between Laila and Jada, clearing her throat.
"Laila?" She began. "Do you have something to say to Jada?"
Laila cast her a 'are you serious' look. She then groaned, resting her head against the headrest.
"I misjudged you," she said in defeat. "Somehow, you haven't killed us in the past 25 minutes."
Jada laughed. "Thank you, sugar."
"You know, this trip hasn't been so bad," Ciema said, legs crossed.
"It's about to be better," Jada said, tapping the screen. She pressed on Spotify. "Laila, type in Like A Prayer."
"Oh my God!" Laila groaned with a smile. "That song's only popular because of Deadpool and Wolverine."
"I thought it was Deadpool vs. Wolverine?" Jada pouted.
"No," Laila said, pressing the song.
Jada chuckled lightly. "Sorry, sugar. I tend to misremember movie names."
"Clearly," Laila murmured, pressing play.
"What's Deadpool and Wolverine?" Ciema asked.
Laila slowly turned around.
"Are you serious?" Laila said. "Do you watch any movies?"
"I was in corporate hell for five years," Ciema reminded her. "Having a life was not an option."
"It's begun!" Jada yelled.
Taking a breath, she began. "Life is a mystery."
Laila joined. "Everyone must stand alone."
"I hear you call my name, and it feels like...home," they sang in unison.
Ciema scoffed, pinching her nose.
"When you call my name, it's like a little prayer," the duo sang. "I'm down on my knees, I wanna take you there."
"In the midnight hour," Ciema sang softly. "I can feel your power..."
Laila and Jada turned around, stunned.
"Just like a prayer, I wanna take you there..." Ciema lowered her voice.
Laila and Jada cheered then turned back ahead. "I had not choice, I hear you voice," they all sang in unison. "Feels like flying..."
-
Aleen Leon marched into the warehouse. "Mr. Spencer!"
Mr. Spencer jolted in his chair. He turned, wringing his hands nervously.
"My quota of bombs?" She asked, arms folded. "The three thousand I asked for?"
His eyes flitted to the men behind her. "Ah, yes. They're almost ready."
"Define almost ready," she growled.
Mr. Spencer swallowed. "I mean...there's only two hundred bombs."
"What?" She asked, surging towards him slowly. "When I told you when I needed them and they weren't ready, you said you need more time. I have given it to you. And you can only muster two hundred bombs?"
She grabbed him harshly by the collar. Hoisting him to his feet, she pressed her pistol to his head.
"Give me a reason why I shouldn't kill you!" She snapped.
"Your demands," he began, his lip quivering. "Are...unreasonable!"
Aleen blinked, completely stunned.
"Day in and day out," he yelled. "You yell, you bicker. You scream ridiculous garbage. And now, surprise, surprise, your absurd demands aren't met, you're angry!"
He gripped her hand, pressing the barrel closer. "Go on, pull the damn trigger. And ensure that you'll never get those bombs made, Ms. Leon!"
Mr. Spencer jabbed his finger at his forehead. "Because all the intricate parts. How they're put together. Are in here!"
Aleen narrowed her gaze, her teeth clenched in a snarl.
"Do it, bitch!" He shouted. "Do it now!"
Her eyes blew wide. "What did you call me?"
"You know what I said," he uttered lowly.
Aleen released him, lowering her gun. He stumbled back into his chair.
She smiled. "What do you know? There's a spine behind those glasses."
Mr. Spencer corrects his specs.
"Ensure they function," she ordered. Her gaze upholding a silent warning.
Turning on her heel, she walked towards the door. Her men followed closely.
Mr. Spencer took several breaths, his heart racing.
He couldn't believe that worked. He should've done that days ago.
-
Laila and Jada strolled into a clothing store. Ciema, not so far behind, eyed the walkie-talkie given.
She couldn't help but wonder if Jaiden's okay. If he's drowned his sorrows in whiskey.
She wondered what pain, how deep and lacerating it was, that caused him to drink.
She'll have to wait till then.
"Ciema!" Jada's voice snapped her to reality. She grabbed her arm, tugging her inside.
"Ciema," Laila said as the pair joined her. She put the shirt back on the rack.
"You'd better stay with us," she warned. "No sneaking off mysteriously, ok? You're not Jaiden. And I don't want you to become him."
"What?" Ciema snapped, pulling her hand free. "Don't say that. Don't say things like that!"
Laila leaned back. "Ok..."
"I'm serious," Ciema hissed, her eyes welling with tears. She turned from them. Her fingers squeezed the walkie-talkie.
Jada and Laila merely exchanged looks.
"What did you see in his room?" Laila asked, placing a hand on her shoulder. "You've been acting weird every since."
"I saw him..." Ciema began, wiping her eyes. "He was hurt. Vulnerable. It felt wrong being there. Hearing him air out his regrets."
"What regrets?" Laila pushed. "You can tell us."
"Later," Ciema smiled, pushing her spectacles up. "We should be having fun. We can't be distracted."
"Ok," Laila said, tensely. "But I've about had it with the secrets."
Ciema let out a soft chuckle. Jada took her hand, squeezing it. "Let it go, Laila. And let's have some fun."
"Fine," Laila muttered.
"This dress would suit you well, Ciema," Jada said, taking it out. She placed it against her. The glittering halter neck dress, red in color, emphasized her figure.
"Oh no," Ciema shook her head. "I could never wear this."
"Yes you can," Jada smiled. "Yes you—Look."
She dragged her to a mirror in the store. "See? You'll look amazing. We're buying it."
She tossed it to Laila, who begrudgingly caught it. "Of course. I become the designated dress carrier."
"Cut it out, sugar," Jada laughed, dragging Ciema along.
-
The girls exited the store, excited. Laila grunted as she carted various bags. "I need help!" She croaked.
"Laila, you got this," Jada smiled, adjusting her shades. "Consider it training."
"Training my ass," Laila spat. "I am not Samson!"
"You're concerned about the weight," Ciema said, shoving the ticket in her face. "I'm worried about the price. The bill's fourteen thousand, eight hundred and thirty-five dollars. And seventy-two cents? For twelve dresses? That store robbed us. He's actually going to kill us!"
"Mr. Maximoff will understand," Jada said dismissively. She froze, shaking with delight.
"Food court!" She squealed. Grabbing Ciema, she dragged the girl towards the place.
"Oh my God!" Laila shouted, hobbling after them.
In the distance, Agent Bowman lowered the newspaper. Dressed in an overcoat and a pink shawl covering her head. A sly smirk plastered on her face.
"That's right, ladies," she muttered. She raised her mic to her mouth. "I have my sights on the targets. Stand by."
"Yes, Agent Bowman," a voice answered.
Taking the paper with her, she got up and trailed after them.
Jada ran up the counter, waving gingerly. "Hi!"
The server awkwardly waved back.
"I would like..." Jada looked up at the menu, pondering.
Ciema spotted something in the tip mug's reflection. She squinted at it.
A mother and her child brush past her.
Ciema sighed. She's way too tense. Then gasped as she spots a woman standing around. Her head buried in a paper.
Their eyes meet briefly and Ciema turns away.
"Special Agent Bowman," she muttered.
She kicked Laila's shin.
"Ow!" Laila hissed. "Goddamn!"
"Don't look now," Ciema whispered. "But that's an FBI agent trailing us."
Laila stiffened. "Jada!"
Jada turned. "Yeah?"
"There's a FBI agent following us," Laila whispered. "Also, I'd like two burritos."
"Oh..." Jada gasped. "That means there might be many agents teeming through this mall."
"We have to be careful," Ciema cautioned. "We don't know who to trust."
"Ok," Jada turned to the server. "Also two burritos."
She turned back to Ciema. "Be on high alert?"
"We need to extract from this place. Now," Ciema smirked.
"Yes?" Laila snapped at the server.
The server blinked. "Huh?"
"You need something?" She demanded. "You've been staring at me."
He looked around, confused. "Uh...I want to know what drink you want."
"A large Coke, please" Laila said. "And mind yo business, David."
The server turned slowly. "That's not my name," he muttered.
-
Collecting their food, the girls pressed on.
Ciema raised the walkie-talkie to her mouth, adjusting it to the channel. She pressed the PTT button, then released it.
"Mr. Mace?" She whispered. "Do you hear me, over?"
"Yes, Ms. Frederick?" He replied. "I hear you, over?"
"An FBI agent is following us. How to proceed, over?"
"Stay together," he answered. "If they're around, they might interfere—"
Static cuts him off.
"Hello?" Ciema spoke into it.
"You're on your own, Ms. Frederick," Mr. Mace replied. "Be careful, over."
"Yes. Mr. Mace," Ciema whispered. "I understand, over."
She stuffed the walkie-talkie into one of the clothing bags.
"You heard him," Ciema nodded to the girls. She pointed at store ahead. "Let's duck into there."
Bowman, trailing behind, whispered into her mic. "They're heading into a lingerie store. Agent Hubbard. You're up. Do you have eyes on the targets?"
"Yes, Agent Bowman," Agent Hubbard said replied on the mic.
The girls walk in, looking around. An employee fixes some underwear on a rack.
A young girl, around her mid-20s, a walked up to the girls. She wore a black shirt with blue jeans and shoes.
A pleasant smile crept across her face. "Welcome to Sugar + Spice. How may I help you today?"
Ciema eyed her. Noticing the earpiece not hidden well. Jada, picking up on Ciema's analytical silence, mirrored the girl's smile.
"We would like to buy some panties for my friend here," Jada said, pointing to Laila.
Laila nodded curtly.
"Well, follow me," Agent Hubbard, disguised, said. The girls trailed behind her.
"She's an agent," Ciema whispered.
"Absolutely an agent," Jada replied in a hushed tone.
"She didn't even try in her disguise," Laila commented. "She's like fake nice. Not fake nice nice."
The girls nodded in agreement before straightening as Hubbard turned around.
"How's this?" She said, gesturing to one of the underwear hanging. It was sheer and green lace.
"Oh hell no," Laila said, shaking her head.
"Green won't suit her," Jada smiled. "Blue might be more appropriate."
"Of course," Hubbard grinned. "I'll be right back."
As she departed, the girls turned to each other.
"We've escaped the hornets," Jada whispered. "And ran right into their hive."
"Yeah," Ciema frowned. "But that agent is a terrible actress so we might have a chance."
"And if things go south," Jada added. "You throw those three bags, Laila."
Laila looked down, raising her arm with the bags. "But you like them."
"I know. But freedom's a whole new dress," Jada winked. "I'll be fine."
Hubbard returned, smiling. The girls mirrored her.
"I got it," she said, presenting the lingerie.
"Great," Ciema nodded.
Hubbard led them to the cashier. She stepped behind the counter, typing in the underwear.
Ciema produced the credit card. Hubbard tapped it on the POS terminal, and pressed chequings.
"Nice card," Hubbard asked, handing it back.
"Thank you," Ciema smiled.
"Who gave it to you?" Hubbard pushed, her friendly tone gone.
Laila glanced at the other employees suddenly closing in. Jada balled her fist, ready for a fight.
"You don't want to do this," Ciema chuckled.
Hubbard handed her the bill.
"Don't do what?" Hubbard asked, smirking. A second agent touched their earpiece.
"This," Ciema smiled. She threw her cup forward, splashing Hubbard with her Coke.
Laila spun, tossing the three bags. It hit two employees. Jada picked up the one that fell and swung. She sent one girl to the ground.
Laila pushed another agent into the clothes rack and Jada slid under another, scrambling to her feet. She kicked her right in the back, stumbling into another agent
The three exit the store, Jada clutching that bag tightly. They exited Sugar + Spice, skidding to a stop. Glancing around, they sprinted off. Laila spotted Bowman, and smugly, flipped her off before joining the others.
"Now that was unnecessary," Bowman muttered. Speaking to her mic, she ordered, "Get them!"
The girls skidded to a stop, looking around. "Look!" Jada pointed. Three security guards rushed towards them. Their earpieces visible.
"Those aren't security guards!" Ciema shouted as Laila rushed forward.
Laila's leg hits the man's crotch, stunning him. Jada elbows his partner. The last guard sprints for Ciema. Ciema crouches and grabs his arms. flipping him onto his back.
Gasps erupt from the seething crowd.
"We are victims!" Laila screamed as Jada hauled her to the escalator.
They rushed onto the escalator and their gazes meet other disguised agents on the opposite, going up.
The agents pull out their guns.
"Wait!" Ciema said, raising her hands.
The agents pause in thoughts. "Disengage. Too many civilians!"
They lower reluctantly.
"Suckers!" Jada laughed, throwing a burrito.
"Bitc—Was that my burrito?" Laila stomped.
"I have the other one," Jada said quickly.
"Hold onto it like it's the cross!" Laila ordered as they reached the end.
They sprinted forward, seeing a line of agents blocking the entrance. With a cry, Jada jumped into a fly kick. She sent one agent to the ground.
Distracted, they failed to notice Laila who smacked them with the flailing bags. Ciema snaked her arm around one's throat, taking out his gun and pointing at the other agents who swarmed them.
She took out his earpiece and placed it in her ear. "Hello Special Agent Bowman."
"Hello, Jaiden's cousin," Bowman sneered, stepping to the second floor's railing.
"Let us go," Ciema ordered, her eyes not leaving the men. "We only came here shopping."
"No," Bowman snapped. "You Amazons are coming with me."
"How do you know if we're really Amazons?" Ciema argued. "We're not armed. You open fire, and someone could get hurt. And you will have to answer for endangerment. Now let us leave."
"You want to play that card?" Bowman snorted.
"Point is, you don't let us leave," she jammed the gun into the man's back. "I won't miss."
Bowman glared down at her. Her fingers clenched the railing tightly. "Stand down."
The agents lowered their guns. Ciema released him and rushed out with Jada. Laila flipped off Bowman from below before joining them.
Bowman sighed in defeat. "That Maximoff couldn't get nice girls?"
-
The girls clambered into the car, throwing the bags into the trunk and rear seats.
"Yee haw!" Jada cheered as she turned the keys.
Ciema fished out the walkie-talkie and pressed the button.
"Mr. Mace, over?" Ciema asked, smiling.
He answered. "Yes, Ms. Frederick, over?"
"We made it, over," Ciema said as the car backed out. "However, the FBI know about us, over."
"What matters is that you're safe, over," Mr. Mace said on the opposite line. "Now hurry back, over."
"Yes, sir, over," Ciema said as she turned it off. "Yes sir."
Reclining in the back, Ciema watched Jada pulled into the road. As they drove smoothly down the road. Laila turned to Jada.
"Gimme my burrito!" Laila demanded. Jada handed it over and Laila tore into it, savoring the taste.
Ciema glanced down at her hands. The tension was gone. Her burden was lighter.
She didn't freeze. Not one bit. She negotiated out of being arrested.
If only her father could see her now.
She smiled to herself.
He probably wouldn't believe it.