McArthur Art Gallery, Chicago, USA
"Right on time," remarked Jennifer Yates, opening the side door to the gallery. It was past seven at night, so the public gallery was closed, not staying open late except for big events. The fact that the gallery would be closed allowed Jennifer to conduct her side business after-hours, thus preventing people from finding out where she lived and giving her a good place to hide her stash in plain sight. The redheaded Jennifer had worked for the Paradise Foundation up until their demise, being the replacement for Rajni Arora as a personal assistant to Julio Sanchez; after she was acquitted on charges she had returned to her hometown to start dealing in the miracle drug that was Type-7.
"Parking was easy," offered Jake, one of the two people Jen had agreed to meet with. Jake was a very handsome man, looking to be in his early thirties, thus not much older than Jen herself, and possessing dark brown hair that was very spiky. Jake was wearing a green tracksuit, which made sense to Jen as he did work at a local gym, that being where she'd met him.
"This is Nicole," revealed Jake, indicating his companion. Jen shook hands with the woman and noted she was also quite attractive, a dark-haired woman in her late twenties with Asian features, though Jen noted they didn't seem extremely dominant. Jen figured Nicole's parents were racially mixed; she saw the dark-haired woman was wearing a white spandex halter-top and black shorts under her grey trench coat. Knowing the neighbourhood around the gallery like she did, Jen didn't blame Nicole for covering up.
"Nice to meet you, please come in," offered Jen, opening the door wider so the pair could enter. Jennifer herself had let her hair down and sported a green spaghetti strap top with designer blue jeans. Inside the gallery still had several lights on, showing quite a bit of modern art.
"So you say this new designer drug is a paralytic?" asked Jake as he stepped inside, glancing around.
"It goes beyond that, it utterly locks up the subject’s muscles and induces a temporary coma," explained Jen, grinning as she locked the door and indicated to the pair which direction to walk. This section of the gallery featured sculptures, including one involving benches put together at odd angles while another appeared to be a wireframe mannequin that used seashells and other water-found products to cover it.
"Temporary?" asked Nicole, surprised. "Isn't any coma potentially, well, unbreakable?"
"Normally yes, but the effect in this case is so precise and adaptable it’s amazing," insisted Jennifer, having seen some of the things Type-7 could do first-hand. "The suitable dosage is also self-regulating. You don't need to account for a person's body weight or anything."
"Incredible," muttered Jake, sounding sarcastic. "I assume you can prove this?"
"Have a look for yourself," chuckled Jen, reaching a corner. Upon turning it, the pair would see a little demonstration Jennifer had arranged earlier. Kendall Novak, a noted artist in her own right for her work with wax as well as acting as an agent for other talents, was standing on a small square display platform, as still as some of her artwork. The unmoving woman with the shimmering brown hair and sparkling blue eyes had a smile on her face, her right hand extended as if shaking someone's hand; she wore a powder blue cocktail dress complete with a matching purse that hung loosely in her left hand. A twinkling diamond necklace rested around Kendall's neck, one Jen was very tempted to steal. In truth, Jen hoped to look has as good as Kendall by the time she reached her early forties.
"Nice statue," sniffed Nicole, appearing unimpressed. "Looks derivative of D’Andrea’s later work. This is supposed to be a person?"
"Feel her," suggested Jen with a smile, indicating Kendall. Jake and Nicole both looked at Jen like she was crazy but obliged, with Nicole touching Kendall's lovely face while Jake just felt her extended arm.
"Huh," remarked Jake, “her skin is warm!” He then leaned in to get a good look at Kendall's face. Nicole meanwhile just let her eyes widen and ran her fingers down Kendall's backside, even feeling her hair before stepping back. Kendall, as expected, remained completely cataleptic.
"Okay, I think you've given us a pretty good demonstration," admitted Nicole, stepping away, sounding almost in awe.
"Yeah, we'll definitely take some," agreed Jake, Jen trying to hide her smile as she saw him glance at Kendall's breasts.
"My supply is just over here," indicated Jen, leading them over to a real waxwork statue, one done by the famed Henry Robertson. The figure was that of a young woman in her late twenties who looked like a heroine out of a science fiction adventure. The statue’s appearance was slender and resembled the physique of a model, but her hair was jet black and clearly unkempt, with dust and dirt smudging her beautiful face and coating parts of the outfit as well. The statue's upper body sported a red tank top with a blue bandanna around the neck; a satchel was hanging from the figure’s right shoulder and grease-stained motorcycle gloves covered the hands. The pants were tan and looked like they were from a big designer, but they too were worn and even patched at points. A pocket-watch dangled from a woven leather belt. Dusty ankle-high leather boots were on the statue's feet and she held a gun in her right hand, up by her head, one that resembled a Beretta but with a modified barrel. The statue was posed as if trying to sneak in somewhere, crouched and on the alert. It wasn't the statue itself that was the focus of Jen’s interest however; it was the circular marble base, which Jen casually opened like a miniature fridge, revealing many vials of Type-7 racked inside.
"Nice hiding place," complimented Jake. "The artist know about this?"
"Of course not, I switched the stands," explained Jen, dismissing Jake's question. "So a single vial that lasts three days – undiluted – is one hundred. A week's worth is two hundred even; special offer. Anything more, we can negotiate…"
"Nice prices," noted Nicole, looking over at Jake and nodding.
"Yes, I think that's just what we wanted to hear," agreed Jake, causing Jen to frown. Sure enough, a moment later the redhead was staring down the barrels of two pistols, one held by each of her customers as they pointed them right at her. Panicked, Jen sidestepped halfway around them, now facing the statue while the gun-carrying duo had their backs to it and her supply.
"Don't move another step!" shouted Nicole, gesturing with her gun. "CSIS; you're under arrest for the possession and sale of illegal pharmaceuticals!"
"CSIS?" asked Jen, confused. Since getting into Type-7 dealing, Jen had known there were risks; an agency called the International Temporal Enforcement Agency even existed to hunt down people like her, but encountering someone with CSIS, the Canadian Security Intelligence Service, in Chicago really took her by surprise.
"Interpol as well," announced Jake, pulling out his identification holder. "We've been partnering with CSIS to deal with dealers who were initially based in Canada when the Paradise Foundation was shut down but have since crossed the border. The FBI gave us approval to extradite you back up North."
"Still don't get how you found me, since I had quit before the Foundation was busted," noted Jen, her hands still raised but not behind her head.
"Some of your clients have been getting sloppy, and since you haven't been moving around it was fairly simple to find you once we heard the rumours," revealed Nicole, showing a small hint of pleasure as well as a northern accent as she revealed the fact. "Now, hands behind your head and get on your knees."
"As you wish," shrugged Jen, carefully placing her hands behind her head and, as she did, pressing down on the opal that was set into the ring she wore on her right hand. "I'm just glad I'm not about to get shot." As Jen dropped to her knees she couldn't help but smirk. Nicole and Jake might have had a chance to react but instead were blindsided as the statue behind them suddenly moved, firing a Type-7 dart into both agents. Nicole still had her gun aimed at Jen but Jake had lowered his, most likely about to pull out handcuffs or something similar, before being frozen by the dart that hit him. The motionless pair looked like a still frame from a televised crime drama.
"You've gotten sloppy," commented the statue, who was really Anne Grinberg, an assistant to Henry Robertson and a partner in Jen's little drug operation. "Are they cops or just well-armed buyers who turned out to not be our kind of people?" Anne stepped off of her pedestal and casually rested her arms around the shoulders of the frozen pair, paying particular attention to Jake.
"Cops; Interpol and CSIS, of all things," revealed Jen, standing up and pulling Nicole's gun from her tight grip, then sliding it into her own waistband. "This is the end of the line for me, I think, Anne. I made sure to point out that Henry doesn't know about my stash, but they know about me."
"So why not just make them part of the show?" asked Anne, carefully removing the gun from Jake's hands and lingering down around his crotch for a bit longer as she did. “Muscle-boy here would look good in a loincloth, waving a Cimmerian sword, perhaps?”
"Someone will come looking for them eventually; it's too risky," pointed out Jen, shaking her head. "How much was in those darts?"
"Third of a vial, so a day's worth," answered Anne, now focusing on Nicole and taking a moment to pull the stiffened woman's hair behind her left ear. "So we just leave them here to wake up? They'll notice I'm missing from the display."
"We switch pedestals and put you back where you belong," insisted Jen, walking around her partner and the frozen agents to close the Type-7 stash. "Kendall's just down the hall, I can chip her to fix your pose. They might suspect something, but proving it is another thing."
"Fine, just glad I got a chance for some fun for a change," mused Anne, touching the back of her neck with her left hand. Anne was wearing a basic chip, one designed to simply freeze her instantly whenever triggered. Jen had managed to place a special remote in the ring she wore that worked specifically with that chip. If not for the ring, Jen might have attracted too much attention while unfreezing Anne for help in subduing the agents.
"Well you'll probably be moving on to a new town soon, so at least you'll be able to change poses," offered Jen, noting how little Anne seemed to enjoy the ratty wig she wore. Jen then headed off to grab Kendall while Anne switched pedestals with the original one in the gallery's storage area. Jen dug into her pocket and pulled out a standard chip, one that would make the wearer obey any commands given to them. Jen slipped the device onto the back of Kendall's neck but the pretty artist remained frozen in her pose, not having been given an order yet.
"Follow me," ordered Jen. Kendall then stood up straight and followed the command, her movements fairly smooth but still a bit robotic in their nature. The pair returned to the agents where Anne had already switched the stands, also switching her Type-7 dart gun, a Park-Tech Weapons Brotherhood custom, for a prop weapon that looked the same.
"I'm going to grab the first flight out of town," Jen told Anne, not bothering to add that she'd been planning on leaving that night anyhow and already had a first-class ticket to Las Vegas. While Jen hadn't expected Jake and Nicole to be narcs she did think things were getting a bit complicated and was worried she'd be found out soon if she didn't change locations.
"Take care of yourself," Anne told Jen, blowing her a kiss from up on the pedestal as she resumed her crouching stance. Jen couldn't help but think the pose was cute and pressed down on the opal on her ring, freezing Anne in place. Anne's left hand was doing the gesture, her wrist less than an inch from her chin while her lips were still pursed and her right arm rested on her hip, the prop gun in its grip as she leaned forward.
"Kendall, put Anne’s statue in the pose it was in earlier," ordered Jen as she dug her cell phone out of her pocket, Kendall meanwhile casually dropped her purse to climb up on the pedestal with Anne to adjust the immobilized model’s figure. Jen couldn't help but curl Nicole's hair around her index finger as her phone called Henry.
"Hello?" came Henry's deep and powerful voice on the other end of the line, most likely in his hotel room or out at a Chinese restaurant as that was his favorite place to eat.
"I need you to pick up Kendall and my ring, I've got to catch a flight," Jen told her other business partner cryptically, just in case her phone could be tracked. "My ring should be in her purse. The space-cowgirl statue will be ready for shipment as well."
"I understand; have a safe flight," replied Henry, hanging up before Jen could say anything else. Letting out a sigh, Jen looked back up at Kendall and saw she'd already finished, leaving Anne posed as she'd been earlier.
"Come down," Jen ordered, Kendall doing as she was told. Jen then headed over and casually removed the chip from Kendall's neck, the device having been on for too short of a time to revive the frozen woman, since Kendall had been given five days' worth of Type-7. The artist immediately stiffened in place like a living sculpture once more as the drug’s effect took over. Jen then raised Kendall's hands up with her palms open at chest level, placing the chip in the right one. Next, Jen grabbed Kendall's purse and hung it off her left arm, placing the ring that controlled Anne's chip inside. Kendall Novak would remain in that position until Robertson came for her later.
"Ah, you sweet, talented, ignorant woman," sighed Jen, touching Kendall's dimpled chin before stepping away. Jen glanced at Nicole and Jake again, considering what to do, and ultimately elected to just leave them for Henry to handle as he saw fit. Accessing her phone again, Jen called for a taxi to meet her outside the gallery and casually walked to the exit.
"I am going to miss this place," muttered Jennifer as she closed the gallery, knowing Henry would be by within the hour to pick up Kendall. As she walked Jen realized the agents might check the wax statues when they came to, just to see if any were human, but luckily only Anne was. Henry would probably make sure the pair didn't do anything until after he'd also left town. As Jennifer reached the curb, she saw that a cab had already arrived.
"That was fast," praised Jen, getting into the taxi. "To the airport, please. I've already checked my luggage ahead so we don't need to stop anywhere else."
"Very good," replied the female driver, which surprised Jen but at first she didn't think anything of it. The driver was however wearing a cabbie’s hat; that wasn't something Jen usually saw women wearing.
"Kind of—" began Jen, going to comment on the hat, but as the taxi began to move, her senses suddenly faded as soon as a faint hissing sound emerged from under her seat, a glass panel having quickly slid up between her and the driver.
* * *
Signature Flight Support Flight 104, O'Hare International Airport, Chicago
"Welcome aboard," greeted Scott Dawson as his wife, Ryoshi Dawson, climbed onto the Lear jet with a familiar redhead following obediently behind. "Looks like we caught ourselves a former secretary who's been quite naughty lightly." The plane was a private one Scott had bought under the Utopia company name; it had a custom interior, one he'd had his chipped slaves do for him as one of their many projects. The aircraft possessed a thick and extremely soft carpet, extremely comfortable and spread out chairs, a full bar and enough galley equipment to cook quite a few different kinds of meals. One particularly special addition was a couch with safety belts that could also turn into a bed, the bed was also able to use belts in case the plane hit turbulence.
"Only took her an hour to call a cab," revealed Ryoshi, pulling off her cab driver's hat to reveal her flowing dark hair. Scott's wife was wearing a fairly shabby-looking brown blouse and jeans with a cheap leather jacket on top but was already peeling her clothing off as she approached her husband, Jennifer sat down in the chair closest to the door and did not blink afterwards, she just kept looking straight ahead.
"I thought that was fast," noted Scott, standing up to kiss his wife. After hearing from his ITEA mole Colette Landry that Jennifer Yates was currently living in Chicago and possibly dealing Type-7, Scott had quickly flown in, checking Jen's address, credit history and travel plans as he flew. Learning she'd booked a flight that night, Ryoshi had 'borrowed' a cab and waited for the call near the gallery Jen worked at. Scott had been surprised to learn from Colette that the ITEA wasn't given jurisdiction but instead CSIS and Interpol had gotten the case, but since Jennifer was tied to the Paradise Foundation and that it was known from the start of the operation, Interpol and CSIS had the initial job in spite of the ITEA being now in existance.
"So what do you think, make her the pool girl?" asked Ryoshi, rubbing her husband's chest while looking at the motionless Jen.
"No, I think something else might work better," disagreed Scott, kissing his wife on the neck and handing her a bottle of water. Scott then stepped over to the outer airplane door and closed it before walking towards the flight cabin. Alexis Sutherland was waiting inside with Veronica Estes, the pair dressed like formal pilots. Scott had finally perfected a program a while back that would make any chipped person into capable pilots, though the procedure still had potential bugs.
"Begin take-off procedure, destination Caxias Du Sol airfield," ordered Scott, making sure to word his commands carefully. The program hadn't hit a hiccup yet but it was always possible, so Scott tried to always give the orders in the same format each time.
"Understood," responded Alexis, flicking a few switches. "O'Hare tower, this is Signature Flight Support Flight 104 requesting immediate departure..." Scott smiled and exited the cabin.
"Ah," chuckled Scott, seeing what awaited him. Ryoshi had, sure enough, drank from the bottle he'd given her and now stood with the bottle in her left hand and the cap being twisted on with her right, nearly half of the container gone as Ryoshi looked refreshed, her blouse completely open to reveal she had no bra on underneath.
"Sorry love, but I'll need you to buckle up before we play," Scott told Ryoshi, removing and sealing the bottle from her hands before sitting her rigid figure down in the chair he'd been occupying, making sure she looked comfortable. Scott then gave his frozen wife a long kiss and groped her breasts a bit before buckling her up and heading over to Jen.
"Now you my dear, get up and come with me," ordered Scott, causing the redhead to stand and follow him as he guided her to the special couch, which was already extending into a full bed. "Take your clothes off and get in," Scott ordered next, also stripping down as the plane began to warm up. While long a member of the mile-high club, Scott had no problem with getting started while gaining altitude. Jennifer Yates was in his possession, which meant he had added another redhead in his collection, even if it was just for a while, and now her careless crimes in Chicago would come to a stop. Sliding into the bed, Scott couldn't help but feel he was on top of the world.
Sand-Drops Hotel, Chicago
Two Days Later
"Welcome back," Henry told Anne as he watched her blink into mobility and lower the prop gun she held. Anne smiled at Henry in return, glad to no longer be stuck in that one pose. Originally an art student at the Rhode Island School of Design, Anne had been selected by Henry to become an apprentice in the art of wax sculpting. As time went on Anne learned that Henry was a visionary, very keen to create living art, then coming to worship him as if he were some kind of undiscovered god within the art world. Soon after, she had agreed to become one of his remarkably lifelike statues. Unfortunately not being a properly recognized genius, Henry had been forced to consort with criminals like Jennifer Yates, but now that he had his greatest prize, they could resume making his dream a reality.
"How long?" asked Anne, glancing around the sparse hotel room. There was a lone queen-sized bed and Anne could see that the second pedestal, the one that hid the dart-loaded gun and all the Type-7 that Jen had been stashing, had been placed in one corner. Kendall was present as well, sitting on the edge of the bed in a hotel bathrobe with her hair freshly washed, looking across the room vacantly with her hands on her knees. Henry meanwhile was wearing a fine purple shirt with a black and gold ascot, his pants also black and crisply ironed. Henry's hair was short and held hints of white in it; he had a small a gold earring in his left ear. Henry's teeth shone brightly against his dark skin as over his eyes he wore purple-tinted sunglasses. Anne noted she was still in her science-fiction costume but without the wig.
"Just two days, I wanted to make sure those cops were going to stop inspecting your stand, and your striking figure," explained Henry as Anne walked towards him to put her arms around his body, not getting a gesture in response. "Eventually, they just left after they realized Jen had ‘skipped town’ ahead of them, as the saying goes."
"So what now?" asked Anne, kissing Henry on the neck. "Now can we start making some true art?"
"My vision will begin soon love, you don't need to worry," Henry assured Anne, gently pushing her away before pulling her back while spinning her in the opposite direction, allowing him to wrap his arms around her waist from behind.
"Why is… she… here?" asked Anne, looking angrily at Kendall. Kendall didn't understand Henry like she did but Anne knew Kendall had made at least one pass at her former mentor.
"I need to keep her satisfied, keep her outside of things," declared Henry, his powerful voice sending a sensual shiver down Anne's spine as his fingers caressed her chest. "With her in our control, we can come and go as we please, and she'll fully endorse any sculpture I deliver to her."
"Too bad she can't be the sculpture," sighed Anne as Henry kissed her shoulder, his breath causing her to feel very aroused.
"Someday she will be; do not worry," Henry assured Anne. "But for now, go to her. I want to see you both create art." Henry's words saddened Anne a bit, but she understood and would happily do anything he ordered of her, not needing to wear a chip to do that. Approaching Kendall, Anne pushed the older woman onto her back and dragged her up the bed, centring her and removing her robe. Kendall's body was well toned and her breasts were impressively firm, though her nipples were a bit red and on the large side. Anne knew Henry was smiling he watched her remove her own clothes and rub sensuously against Kendall's motionless body, then locking lips with the female artist and unleashing the passion she had for her teacher on the woman she was competing with.
"Excellent, such lovely art," whispered Henry. Anne then felt herself begin to freeze just as she'd placed her hands on Kendall's breasts while hovering on top, her lips inches from the other woman's. Anne silently wished to awaken next to Henry as her senses faded away, ever eager to get started on helping him create true a true masterpiece, not realizing she already had.
Jennifer Yates - Isla Fisher
Jake Driscoll - Ryan Reynolds
Nicole Kao - Kristin Kreuk
Kendall Novak - Kate Walsh
Anne Grinberg - Natalie Portman
Henry Robertson - Keith David
Ryoshi Tenzo - Maggie Q
Scott Dawson - Kiefer Sutherland
Alexis Sutherland - Naomi Watts
Veronica Estes - Paula Graces