Undercover Badge 2; Girl With A gun (Badass with a badge ) UNDER CONSTRUCTION

***CHAPTER 15***

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RECAP;

"I was the only one that left that jungle alive, James." I whispered, and I felt a little bit of pain remembering the faces of the men, and the few woman that went in there. "They were my team mates. I trained with them, I ran drills with them, they were my friends." I whispered, and my vision blurred before a scalding tear spilled over.

He was bringing back Katrina Veynox. I was loosing Katerina Emerald, the cool headed spy. It was James' fault.

Suddenly, I was warm.

I was in his lap, and his arms were around me, and he was kissing up and down my neck as I cried. His breath was warm, and he was calming me down. His hands were rubbing up and down my back and his lips parted and closed, gently suckling my flesh. I was still crying. I'd thrown my arms around his neck, and I was sure I must have been choking him. But he didn't make a sound, he just kissed my neck and rubbed my back.

When my tears died down, I breathed in his sent deeply that same cologne from years ago. My heart beat had slowed, and his fingers were drawing circles, so softly on my back. It felt amazing. I rested my cheek on his shoulder.

"Sorry." I breathed, but even my whispered voice sounded broken.

"For what?" he murmured, still rubbing my back.

"Crying."

He pulled back a little. "Don't ever apologize for crying." he said, and his breath on my ear made me shiver.

I took a deep breath. "Thank you."

His hand cupped my chin, pulling it up so his lips met mine softly, barely, sweetly.

Yep.

I definitely loved him.

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***CHAPTER 14***

"Marianne Bouxe." Amy threw a folder across the boardroom. All the men were staring up at her in awe. Amy'd gone for a far more work orientated look. A dark grey pantsuit and a tailored grey blazer. Her hair was up in a backwards French knot.

"According to some of my friends she worked as a stripper at the Candy Apple. Seedy stripper joint in town. Only one problem, last night she was found in her own blood caught in a shot out. Its said that she's deep in business with Duncan. And also looks uncannily similar to Kat." a picture was displayed on screen. Amy was right. She did look similar to me. But she had long, curly blond hair and brown eyes. Her breasts were a tad smaller than mine, her hips slightly more curvaceous, and I think I was a bit taller than her.

"I suggest we send Kat in as her. It will end great. But the thing is, she was kidnapped." another picture threw up on the screen. The girl, Marianne was on a huge horse, clearly purebred, with roses around her in a jockeys uniform. Her parents, I assume stood around, grinning. There was a rose blanket on the horse. "The daughter of a French diplomat. A year ago Duncan found her and wanted her for himself. But apparently she went with him willingly, lovingly even. So, Kat, this is gonna require some acting." Amy said.

"Now hold on." James said, looking worriedly at me. "Your joking?"

"Uhm, no?" I asked, looking back at him.

"You cant. Its way to dangerous."

"Not for me." I replied, leveling him a look.

And that's how, a few days later, I was rolling on black stockings. And attaching them to black suspenders over a black lace thong. On top was a half cup black lace bra. My hair was blond and curly, my eye brown. My hair was dyed with a temporary dye. I had black lace wrist gloves, and a black choker necklace. My earrings were some black crystals dangling from tiny silver chains. My eyes were smoky and very dark, my entire eyelid painted an oily looking black. I also had on black false eyelashes. My boots were black, six inch snake skin leather. I had a silver belly ring with three thin silver strands, each had a black crystal on its end, small, about the size of a small pearl. I looked like a hooker if ever their was one.

Amy threw me the black silk robe that ended just above my knees. I pulled it on and secured the front. "I hate stripper joints." I growled.

"Yea, yea." Amy said. "I know."

"Why can you ever be the one dressed like I am?" I wined. I saw her eyes flair, before they dropped. "They'd see my scar. The c-section." she breathed. That's right. I'd forgotten. Amy had a kid. Somewhere with his father. The little boy was three. His father was slime.

"Crap," I breathed. "stupid question. I'm so sorry."

"Its alight." she said smiling brightly. No one needed to study communication analysis to see through the plastic. I gently pulled off my silver chain, with the emerald. I handed it to her.

"Keep it safe." I whispered, giving her a look that told her I was serious.

That emerald was everything.

I breathed deeply. The scent of sweat, sex, hormones and alcohol met my nose. Once again, the place was dark and shady. A raised stage that's floor was lit in bright red, and there was some grey smoke littering the floor area from a smoke machine. Women in different stages of nudity crawled across the stage floor and writhed against silver poles. I crinkled my nose a bit in disgust. "Cinnamon!" A squeal met my ears. I turned and found a brunette in a black corset running my way. "Cin, I'm so happy to see you." she cried, hugging me.

Cinnamon, Marianne's nickname. Cin. Sin.

Sin. Plural; sins. Transgression of theological principles: an act, thought, or way of behaving that goes against the law or teachings of a religion, especially when the person who commits it is aware of this.

How ironic.

"What are you wearing?" she asked looking at me as if I was wearing a paper bag. With a grin, I pulled off the robe. "Day-ham. That's more like it." she eyes the outfit.

I laughed at her and made my way into the club, arrogantly tilting my head up. It was almost like a trip to Bolivia that I'd taken.

Except, in Bolivia the girls had been slaves, forced into this life to save their families and friends. Here, however, were a bunch of sluts selling themselves to support a coke habit.

In my mind there was nothing more disgusting than hat. A woman selling her soul and her body, something that should in the least be slightly precious to that of a man that's looking for nothing more than a quickie and some attention.

I wasn't looking where I was going. Perhaps if I had, I wouldn't have walked right into someone I knew well. Someone that seemed to enjoy making my life a living hell lately. Someone who knew what the 'Alumni Code' was and wanted it from me.

Someone I hated, but looked an awful lot like someone I loved.

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