Margate, Florida
A couple of days have passed since our new recruitment. Archer gave us some time to settle in and practice with our new equipment, but we've logged in the exact amount of training hours needed to be sent on our first mission. I felt indifferent to be working with Archer again. Sure, the nostalgia is nice, but he's not the same man we knew three years ago. Of course, his personality is the same, but not his work methods. He's gone so long being the lone wolf, I really wouldn't want to get in his way.
The synopsis of the mission is basically a drug bust. I've always figured that drug busts were beneath an agent of my skills, but Archer seems to think it's important enough to look into. Plenty of money transactions have the same keyword in them: Life.
Life was obviously the drug name. We tend to let these illicit luxuries slide, but this particular one only has one source and generated plenty of revenue in the past few months. Not to mention the increased crime rate in Margate, Florida to obtain the said drug.
The fun part is where we'll be going. It's a rave! I haven't been to one since my college years! I've made plenty of people regret their decisions at raves before, and now I'm going to be paid for it.
It's been too long since I've done this. Miniskirt, fishnet corset, thigh-high boots, and colorful glow sticks will be my ensemble tonight. I won't risk wearing an earpiece in a dancing club though, so a personal cell phone will be our way of communicating with each other.
Clyde, or Wess now, was border lining the gimp look with his skin-tight leather pants and opened vest with no shirt. He had an option to take a prop whip with him, but he decided against it for some reason. Archer would be supervising us from the RV. He proposed to watch our methods, and study our algorithm to better our teamwork in the future. It's a fair enough reason, and neither of us found any prompt to protest.
The inside of the club was a serious epileptic seizure waiting to happen. It becomes pitch black between the strobe light's violent bursts of light. The neon trails of color come off of the people's glow sticks and reflective clothes, and the floor itself was vibrating with colorful lights in correlation to the beat of the music. The patrons were a mix of anthros and humans. It's always nice to see a club that serves both sides.
My only complaint is the combined smell of sweaty humans and wet fur. Smells like a perfume made of pure pheromones. Although, I do feel more stimulated.
"Why does Florida have to be so humid!?" said Wess.
"Look, a bar counter! Let's go get a drink babe. It'll calm you down." I say.
He grabs my hand and escorts me through the dancing mob of dehydrated bodies. I receive captivated glances from the men and even some women. Both had second thoughts just from the sheer size of Wess. The bartender was a young skunk driving an energetic personality behind the counter. He must've had a few drinks himself.
"Ah," he says, "what can I get you's two!?"
"I'll just have a beer," says Wess, "Lexi?"
"Might I recommend the Purple Dragon m'lady?" the skunk says, a wink to follow.
"Great, she'll have it!" says Wess, cutting me off before I could answer.
"Excellent!" The skunk gets Wess' beer and begins working on mine. I peer around the club, looking for the workplace of Life. We've seen it with our own eyes that the shipment leaves from this building. Whether it gets delivered here or created here, I don't actually know.
"Take it slow baby," says the skunk as he inches the shot glass closer to me. The drink really is purple! How did they do that? I shoot it down, but the taste isn't riveting.
"You okay there?" Wess asks. I nod my head and push off the countertop, letting the crowd envelop me in their musky scent and blurring body movements. I know Wess is following me, but somewhere between two large gentlemen and their impressive gut, he must've needed to take a detour. No matter, he knows what to look for.
The strobe lights and flashing rainbows are starting to make me sick. Maybe I'm getting too old for parties like these. Hey, twenty-five is still a very spunky young age! Who am I arguing with? What was in that drink!? Where's the bathroom? Am I horny? There's definitely something pushing against my panties. I swear I can hear the color purple!
A pair of powerful hands take hold of my shoulders and guides me into the women's bathroom. It was Clyde, or Wess...Desmond?
"Why is your face blurred out?" I ask.
"Okay, so it turns out that the Purple Dragon is liquefied Life mixed with alcohol."
Uh-oh.
"Stay with me, Lexi! You've read the symptoms of Life, you know what's coming. Fight it, we have to keep going."
"Lexi? My name's Troy."
"No, not right now it isn't. We're undercover, remember."
"Undercover?"
"Close your eyes, and take a deep breath."
I do, but opening them back up teleported me to a room filled with brewing equipment. Wess is taking pictures of documents on a table, and there are three unconscious bodies littering the floor; all of them in their underwear.
"Wha- Where are we!?"
He gets startled by my voice. "Oh geez! You're back. I kind of figured that you blacked out. How are you feeling?"
"Incredibly dehydrated. How did we get here?"
"It wasn't easy, but details will have to come later. For now, we need to safely claim this evidence." He pulls out his phone and calls someone; most likely Archer. "We've got everything we need. Troy will need a detoxification treatment when we get back." He hangs up and grabs my arm, pulling me towards the exit.
The termite-infested door opens up before we reach it and in enters a heavyweight security guard wielding a sawed-off shotgun. I blackout again.
*** *** ***
I awake in my bed drenched in sweat. The first thing I do is take a deep inhale of breath. I notice that I'm only in my underwear and that I am connected to a machine. It's turned off, but I imagine this was the detox apparatus.
Clyde walks in, dressed in his usual clothes, "Hey, how are you feeling?"
"Wait, what happened? I could've sworn that a big sweaty man blocked our exit."
"You really don't remember, do you? Trust me, you'll want to keep it that way."
"C'mon, Clyde! That was my first mission and I won't even be able to remember it."
"Do you really want to know? Here," He throws me a small package of papers. "Just remember, I had to watch!" He leaves the room. It's the summary report to the mission. I skim ahead until I find the first time I blacked out; right when Clyde told me to close my eyes and take a deep breath.
...I don't know how, but Troy knew exactly where to go when we exited the women's bathroom. He eventually found a lone guy standing in the VIP hallway and whispered something in his ear. The man showed signs of rising body temperature and grabbed Troy's hand to lead him into the workshop of Life. I don't know what he told him, but he somehow convinced the guy to take both of us willingly. We were greeted by three other men working on their brewing machines.
Uh-huh. Now I'm troubled by what my subconscious mind thinks about. I skip ahead a bit more to the part where my second blackout happened.
...Before the man could pull the trigger, Troy's silver tongue found another loophole in the human being's reason and logic. After some saucy dialog and the promise that I would watch, the man proceeded to disarm himself and undress rapidly. Troy then proceeded to...
Whoa! Okay! That's gross! Ew! Skip ahead! Skip ahead!
...Once the man saw Troy's male girth, he instantaneously lost his composure. I took this chance to incapacitate him, and safely escort Troy out of there. We recovered physical evidence, including the recipe for Life, and all its lodging numbers for shipments and high-time clients. Mission Complete.
I took a hot shower and gurgled tons of mouthwash after I was done reading. That was the first time a rave has ever made me regret MY decisions.