Chapter 3: “Her Apocalyptic Life”
Tai’s eyes popped open as she quickly silenced her alarm. It was just after 6AM as she snatched up her phone before bouncing off her bed and padding out of her room and into the bathroom at the end of the hall, wide awake and humming to herself, the bizarre dream almost completely forgotten.
Tai had the misfortune of being one of those loathsome people who instantly awoke full of energy and ready to tackle the world. Since moving in with Iwana, this condition had led to Tai being carried back to bed and strapped down and heavily gagged for most or all of the morning on over a dozen occasions.
Tai quickly went through her bathroom rituals, taking a moment to use her phone to gather some basic information on Darin Drue, the man she was going to meet today. It was not a lot of detail, but a few facts might be the difference between landing the opportunity of a lifetime and what would amount to a long day trip.
Hopping into the shower, she struggled to temper her enthusiasm, but every scenario she played out ended with her wowing Drue and becoming an international super detective. In celebration of her imaginary victories, Tai launched into a loud, astonishingly offkey rendition of ‘Just A Friend,’ one of her top five shower songs.
Tai was still singing loudly when she left the bathroom, nude and toweling off. She was dragged back to reality when she heard loud cheering, shocked to see two women in LAPD uniforms seated at the kitchen table. Iwana was grinning wickedly as she poured herself some coffee.
Her first instinct was to let out a loud screech and flee into her room, but she had made a decision to take control last night. Tai 2.0 would not give her unexpected audience the satisfaction of seeing her embarrassed.
“Thanks for the heads up,” Tai said, forcing herself to stand in the hall for a few seconds as she toweled off.
“Don’t blame me,” Iwana said. “Nobody told you to have a naked concert at the crack of dawn.”
Tai shook her head, casually entering her room, mockingly parroting Iwana’s words as she finished drying off and tossed the towel onto one of the many piles covering her bedroom floor.
Still naked, Tai checked her phone. She had 2 text messages. The first was from Cutter saying he would be glad to help and to meet him in Golden Gate Park at 5PM. Tai quickly texted him back that she would.
The text from Kelsie was less definitive. It simply said to call her. She immediately did so, placing the reporter on speaker as she rummaged through her clean clothes pile for the day’s outfit and spare items to take with her.
She was skimming on her favorite gold Lezure thong when Kelsie answered. Lezure was a brand owned by members of the Purple Ray and that meant a near endless supply of free swag for her.
“Hello?” Kelsie said, sounding as if she had just woken up.
“Good morning!” Tai chirped as she adjusted the thick band of her thong. Tai smiled, loving the way the white lettering of the brand name contrasted with the gold coloring of the thong and her tan skin.
“Jesus, Tai,” Kelsie admonished. “What have I told you about being so energetic in the morning?”
“Sorry,” Tai said, in a tone that said she was not sorry at all. “It won’t happen again.”
“You promised that last time as well,” Kelsie said with a sigh. “This is about Darin Drue I presume?”
“Yep,” Tai said, now slithering into a pair of well-worn, skintight leather biker jeans. Kelsie could not see her, but she could hear Tai grunting and jumping in the background.
“I would love to help you,” Kelsie said. “But I’m on a story and I’m going out of the country in a few days.”
“That sucks,” Tai said, having conquered the jeans, she was admiring how they looked painted on her legs before turning her attention to her boots and socks. “What’s the story?”
“I’m doing a follow up on Lore Luxor’s death,” Kelsie said.
Tai paused in her frantic dressing for a moment. “He committed suicide somewhere in Tunisia like 10 months ago didn’t he?”
“Yeah,” Kelsie said in a dubious voice. “And ever since something has bothered me about it. He was in a place called Marsa, have you ever heard of it?”
Tai nodded, forgetting that Kelsie couldn’t see her as she absently retraced her memories. “I wanted to go there for my 17th birthday but Mama Jane freaked hard. She told me that Western tourists disappear there at an extraordinarily high rate. So I went to Hawaii instead.”
“The city of Marsa has a strange history,” Kelsie said. “And it all centers around the Bey family. Everyone says that they are rich philanthropists who have worked to take care of the city for centuries, but I’ve heard darker rumors. So I’ve decided to go investigate, see if I can connect the current Bey, a recluse named Hassan, to Lore Luxor.”
“I won’t lie,” Tai said, having finally dug out the matching gold bra to go with her panties, it had somehow ended up in the ‘practically clean’ sock pile. “It sucks I won’t get to bounce ideas off you while I work the case, but I’m sure if there is anything more to this Luxor thing, you’ll find it. Just watch yourself out there.”
“Thanks,” Kelsie said. “And you watch yourself as well. I don’t have anything concrete on Darin Drue, what I have heard is that he is a man to be wary of, so be careful. And while I won’t be able to help you, I did find someone who is very interested in Darin Drue and I think might be a valuable resource to your investigation.”
“Really!?” Tai said, pulling on a tight cropped black turtleneck to complete her outfit. “Who is it?”
“A reporter from the UK,” Kelsie said. “ Her name is Lacy Law and she was very keen to connect with you once I told her Darin Drue is your potential client. She wants to meet up at 7PM this evening. Does that sound good?”
“That sounds great,” Tai said, picking up her phone. Tai was grateful that Kelsie had taken the time to help her out, especially since Tai knew how important the Luxor story was to Kelsie. She initially broke the news for her paper the LA Tribune, convincing the women to come forward to bring him down. Her interactions with these women left her hellbent on making the billionaire pay for his crimes.
What happened afterward had crushed her. When Lore vanished, she had desperately searched for him, not wanting him to escape punishment for his crimes. She even asked Tai to do some legwork regarding his movements shortly after the rookie PI got her license, but she had come up empty. She hoped Kelsie would find what she was looking for in Marsa.
“When I get back,” Kelsie said slowly. “I was hoping we could talk about the book I was writing on the Purple Ray. I’m thinking of finishing it but I want your input.”
Tai frowned. “Umm...okay.”
“Great,” Kelsie said, relief in her voice. “ So I’ll text you Lacy’s details and give her yours. Take care of yourself, Tai Ann Roper. I know you want to prove yourself, but don’t take any unnecessary risks, okay?”
“You too, Kelsie Wade, I don’t want to have to come to Marsa to rescue you,” Tai said with a smile before hanging up.
As she settled on the final outfits to take with her in case she had to stay in SF for an extended period of time, she thought about Kelsie and her unique understanding of the Purple Ray and the Roper family. Mostly she wondered why Kelsie was interested in finishing her book on the Purple Ray now and why she needed her input.
When Tai was a little kid, Kelsie had come to their commune in Los Altos intent on writing the definitive history of the group and its members. Her mothers had been cautiously open to the idea and for a summer Kelsie stayed at the commune. At the time Tai had been a wild terror, a whirlwind of black hair and scabby knees and elbows and the last thing she wanted to think about was a stupid book. Kelsie was just another in the sea of nice ladies who came and went at the commune.
While Kelsie eventually became a permanent part of her life even after she left the commune, the book never materialized. Tai had never been able to get a straight answer out of anyone as to why the book was never done, with Kelsie only saying that it was unpublishable in its current form and she would eventually get back to it. Tai had no reason not to believe her, as she championed the Purple Ray out in the larger world and often helped her mothers with the intake of new members to the commune by teaching them about the history of the Purple Ray.
Years later, just before she moved out of the commune herself, Tai had been in the attic of the main house for a reason she could no longer recall. She knew it had been tied to the disastrous 18th birthday party she had the month before but that was it. As she tore through the dusty boxes she was surprised to find a collection of notes along with some very surprising photographs.
In the notes, Kelsie seemed determined to track down every female ancestor of Tai Ann Roper. It was strange but it made for fascinating reading. On the notes that were under her name, the earliest record spoke of a heroine of the French Revolution. She was the unfortunate focus of the perversions of a French nobleman and the stories of her sufferings became a vital piece of propaganda during the fight to overthrow the aristocracy.
This nameless woman emigrated to the UK after Napoleon’s first abdication and there met and later married the great grandson of a woman whose exploits as a prostitute had similarly been exposed to the public in a salacious manner. One of their grandchildren would open a school for training young women to be proper Victorian ladies, but the school would be closed and the woman would disappear in scandal.
After that, there were heavily blacked out paragraphs that vaguely alluded to lady spies who worked for their mother(Tai had no clue what that meant) and female crime bosses who worked for the British government. It was frustratingly intriguing, but this page ended with Kelsie writing that she had hit a wall.
Mama Jane had her own section. The history of the Roper family was fairly routine until just after World War II. Then Kelsie mentioned the Laine Sisters, a pair of women who bucked the conventions of their time to pursue their own destinies. One became one of the most fearsome reporters in the country, taking on corrupt politicians and vicious mobsters without batting an eye. All her stories were well researched and brilliantly written. Tai was very impressed with her until she came across a series of what looked like diary entries claiming that a flying man had saved her on more than one occasion.
Her sister’s life was less public but no less colorful. People saw her as the assistant to a powerful newspaper mogul in Chicago, but in fact she all but ran his business while he ‘explored other interests.’ She seemed to find danger almost as much as her sister, but she always moved back behind the scenes afterwards.
The reporter married a colleague but they had no children, meanwhile her sister married her boss and they had several kids, one of which headed down south and married into the Roper family.
The next person of note was a woman named Cherri,a ginger haired beauty who was apparently a distant cousin to Mama Jane. She had left Louisiana at 18 and never returned. Notes in the margins said she had a granddaughter who specialized in recovering rare items, Anni or Abbi or something like that. After reading this, Tai meant to track them down but never got around to it.
Another section was under the name of Dr. Yume Asano-Roper, AKA Mom. Tai frowned, wondering why her Western heritage was split in two, while her Eastern ancestors were all listed under her Mom’s name.
Shrugging, she continued reading. It was surprisingly fanciful, with Kelsie claiming that her mom was descended from the Miroku, a once powerful warrior clan from the time before the Shoguns rose to power. It was like some fantasy novel, Tai thought, especially when she saw their sigil, a large snake attacking a blooming flower. The history spoke of sex demons and sex magick and all sorts of weird shit that Tai had a hard time believing Kelsie thought was worth publishing.
After World War II, the record became slightly more believable. There were stories of a nameless government agent known for her love of the color red who fought evil in the late 60s and early 70s; mentions of a Japanese scientist who built a fortress in the Himalayas to war against the West before being convinced to go straight by her daughter, apparently a distant relation to Tai’s mom.
Tai had spent a great deal of time with her mom’s side of the family in Kyoto, and was surprised to find so many colorful characters in her immediate family's history. She was shocked to learn that her sweet old grandmother had been known as Miko, the 4th Hand of Death, in her youth and had been the most feared female fighter in Japan. She knew she was very skilled, having introduced Tai to the Asano family karate style, the Seven Heavens, but she did not know her grandma was such a badass.
Also of note was the leader of a female biker gang called the ‘Angel Blade of the Streets,’ notorious for often engaging in insane amounts of public sex and violence. Even more feared than The Angel Blade was Scorpia, a woman who became an elite assassin after she went to prison. It was hard to believe that all these women were related to Tai. Even more of a shock were the pictures kept with the notes.
The first pictures were photographs of artwork. One was in an Eastern style, depicting beautiful, nearly naked women with porcelain skin sailing through the air battling hulking monsters with massive phalluses that seemed to move on their own. The picture was captioned “Miroku ninjas defeat last of the sex demons.”
The next piece of art was Western in nature and the caption said “J endures punishment,” and showed a naked brunette with her arms chained above her head as a red eyed man with a disheveled powdered wig whipped her back.
After that were a series of pictures from what Tai guessed were the 1930s or 40s. They showed a woman with dark curly hair and a no nonsense expression being tied up by a tall, sleazy looking man whose delight seemed to grow the more he bound the woman.
In the photos the woman was wearing only a black full slip and pantyhose, losing her fierce expression the more helpless the man made her. In the final picture she was boxtied while an intricate series of bindings went from her thighs to her ankles, causing her to stand stiffly upright for fear of tipping over. A scarf with a thick knot in it filled her mouth and the eyes that had been so fierce in the first picture were filled with uncertainty as the man rested his hands on her bare shoulders. The caption read “Reporter Laine with Arvin Talon in his Hollywood persona.”
Next up was a photo of what looked like a Japanese all girl motorcycle gang from the late 60s. The odd thing about the women was that their outfits left almost all their bodies exposed. A kind of black bodysuit was worn by all the women, but it only covered the legs and the stomach, leaving everything else exposed. The women seemed proud and at ease, with the lead woman holding switchblades in each hand and looking dangerous. Tai noticed that the woman had shaved her pubic hair into the shape of wings and then dyed it white. She shook her head, reading the caption that said “Angel Blade and the Angel Blades in their Night Raid gear.”
The next picture seemed to be somewhere in England. It showed a small gathering of people dressed like they were from the 19th century. They surrounded a pond to watch a beautiful woman in a white tracksuit be dangled in a black iron gibbet from the thick branches of a twisted old tree that hung over the water. She was stretched out in the cage, with her hands pulled through the top of the cage and manacled there. Her mouth was filled with a thick white cloth tightly gagging her. The caption read “Wichend 1966.”
The image after that showed the familiar face of Tai’s grandmother, but much younger than Tai had ever seen her. She was dressed in snug bell bottoms and a long sleeved shirt with a red number ‘4’ emblazoned across her bust. She was in the aggressive stance that signified she was about to use First Heaven, the foundational attack style of the Asano family. Her opponent was a slender Japanese man with an eyepatch decorated with the skull and crossbones synonymous with piracy the world over. He held rope in his hands and smiled. Her grandmother stood between him and a naked young woman bound in the most elaborate shibari Tai had ever seen. There seemed to be no part of her that was not restrained. The caption to this picture read “The 4th Hand of Death vs Mr. Hojo AKA B&D Hunter.”
The most mysterious picture of the group was of a buxom, tan woman with a hood over her head, with only a few strands of dark hair peeking out. She was chained to a wall by a heavy metal collar with her arms wrenched up between her shoulder blades, with her wrists crossed and tied to the collar around her neck. Tai noticed whip marks all over her skin, as well as heavy metal piercings through her nipples, clit, and one through her nose that emerged from the hood obscuring her identity. The caption only said “At Madame’s pleasure, 1977.”
The final group of pictures showcased a young Kelsie, her long brown hair up in a ponytail and a pair of black rimmed glasses on her face, bound to a chair and tightly cleave gagged. The only thing she wore besides the glasses were a pair of black stockings. Intricately tied white rope squeezed her breasts into purple peaks. She looked like she wanted nothing more than to be free while at the same time wanting to be in that moment forever. It was a feeling Tai would come to know all too well.
Kelsie’s pictures all took place in the very attic that Tai now stood in, with only a few changes between the pictures. She had the cleave gag in some, then in others a great black ballgag filled her mouth. Her arms were pulled over the top rail of the chair and bound tightly at her wrists and elbows.
In one of the last pictures Kelsie was forced to lift her butt out of the chair by a cruel crotch rope connected to a crossbeam above her. Kelsie looked humiliated and in pain, but Tai could see that the white crotch rope was slightly darker where Kelsie shifted and the rope slid through her puffy, glistening pussy.
Tai often wondered who she had been with and why the pictures had been taken and forgotten. All the pictures raised questions she wanted answers to. On more than one occasion she almost asked Kelsie about them, but something stopped her. Now given her desire to learn why she couldn’t seem to stay out of bondage, she wished she had asked questions and learned about her heritage.
She didn’t even take the notes and pictures with her, deciding to leave them there. At the time she was determined to build a new life away from her mothers and the Purple Ray, and knowing about your ancestors possibly being weird sex ninjas didn’t seem relevant. Now she wished she had taken everything. She hoped it was still there and she could go back and look at it again.
“Maybe after this case,” Tai thought as she rounded up the last pair of clean panties she would take with her to San Francisco.
Satisfied with the clothes that she had packed, Tai gathered the last of her gear. She dug a black leather double shoulder holster out of her top drawer and put it on. She then grabbed her silver Infinity batons and put it under her left arm. One of the perks of being a licensed private investigator was being able to carry a retractable baton. Tai was too young to carry a gun, and she still wasn’t sure she even wanted to carry one, but she did like knowing she had tools available to defend herself. She then grabbed her phone and put it under her right arm. The BV9900 was a perfect phone for someone who often found herself in volatile situations and Tai loved its durability, though she was looking forward to upgrading soon.
Next she fitted a small holster holding her Cold Steel Recon 1 Tactical Folding Knife on the back of her belt. The knife had gotten her out of more than one jam and she never left for a case without it. She then stored her tablet in her backpack, a 28L Velomacchi Speedway pack she was sure would outlast her. The tablet was loaded with all sorts of goodies designed by security expert Silke Webb, another member of the Purple Ray and the mean older sister Tai knew she didn’t want but was stuck with anyway.
The last thing she grabbed was from a finely crafted wooden box with her initials on it. Inside the box was a gift from her Aunt Roxy, a highly decorated DEA agent operating out of Hawaii. Inside the box were 10 pairs of state of the art, specially designed motorcycle gloves, 8 black pairs and 2 red pairs.
“For trouble on and off the road,” the inside of the box said. The gloves were a hybrid of motorcycle gloves and fighting gloves. Tai loved the reinforced knuckles and what they could do to someone in need of a good asskicking.
Seeing the gloves never failed to bring a smile to Tai’s face. Roxy Roper was the cool aunt every girl dreamed of having and the closest thing to a real superheroine Tai had ever seen. She pondered going up to Hawaii and seeing her with the money she made from this case, but stopped herself because she didn’t want to make plans before she even got the job.
Before grabbing a pair of the gloves, Tai took a moment to look into the floor length mirror beside the closet she never used.
She had to admit that she looked good. The leather biker jeans looked poured on to her shapely, strong legs, and she had always loved how her ass looked in leather. The cropped turtleneck hugged her high, firm breasts tightly while revealing her toned, defined abs. She threw on her favorite leather jacket, a beautiful kevlar lined number with a cool asymmetrical design, before snapping a series of selfies. She scrolled through them quickly, before settling on a few for ‘outfit of the day’ posts.
Satisfied it was time to go,Tai snatched a black pair of gloves and bopped out of her room.
“Babygirl?” Iwana said. She was seated at the kitchen table with her two cop buddies. Tai had seen the women before, usually while she was in some form of distress authored by Iwana, so it was hard for her to recall names but she was pretty sure the big blonde one was named Estel Blaze. She silently hoped that she could escape without revealing she didn’t remember the other cop.
“Hey ‘Wana,” Tai said. “How’s LA’s Finest?”
“Great after your little show,” Estel said. She was taller and more muscular than Iwana and she had her head shaved on the sides while at the same time having her long mane of blonde hair tied in a ponytail that reached to just between her shoulder blades.
Tai did a little curtsy to hide her sudden blush.
“We’re good,” Iwana said, shooting the blonde a glare. “Everybody is freaking out about this new drug that is all over the place. So we are getting ready to sit through meetings telling us shit we already know, so it's the same old same old.”
“That’s that Black Bull stuff you were telling me about last week?”
“Yeah, nasty shit with a racist ass name,” Iwana grumbled. “It’s like a cross between PCP and Viagra and more potent than either. I’ve never encountered anyone on it, but I’ve heard some horror stories.”
The other women nodded in grim agreement.
“Any idea where it came from?” Tai asked.
Iwana shook her head. “Apparently it popped up in a bunch of major cities all at once. People were going crazy before anyone even knew what was happening. Everyone’s trying to get a handle on it. The SBI and the FBI even stopped bitching at each other over the whole Luxor thing to form a task force. Someone from the task force is going to be talking with the higher ups today and then we get to hear all the good news.”
Iwana looked ready to launch into a rant about one or both of these agencies but Tai stopped her before she could.
“I’m heading out,” Tai said, taking advantage of the moment it took for Iwana to realize what Tai was saying to snatch her still warm coffee and quickly down it.
She hated abruptly changing the subject, but she long ago discovered that the only thing Iwana loved as much as being a cop was complaining about being a cop.
“Yeah, okay.” Iwana replied in a vague tone, while looking at her empty cup. “Darin Drue has a reputation, you know?”
“He’s a potential client ‘Wana,” Tai said. She noticed that the other cops were eyeing the pair with scandalous interest. “I’m going to deal with whatever is going on with his daughter and that’s it. Will you help me?”
“Of course, babygirl,” Iwana scoffed. “You don’t even have to ask. And while you are in The City moving among the rulers of the world, maybe stop by and see your moms. I spoke to them this morning and they were happy you would be coming their way.”
Tai had foolishly hoped she would be gone before Iwana got the chance to alert her mothers that she would be nearby. “I’ll try and stop by once the job is done.”
“Tai Ann, your mothers’ are expecting you and you will not disappoint them, is that understood?”
“Yes ma’am,” Tai responded without thinking. Iwana was very good at establishing her dominance with a few words. It was one of the reasons that Tai had to move out. If anyone could talk Tai out of her quest for independence, it was Iwana. And she had other means if words didn’t work...
“Good,” Iwana said. “After the brass finishes wasting our time telling us what we already know and we can get back to work, I’ll look into Carter Drue and see what I can find. You be careful out there, and if you need backup just let me know. I have a ton of vacation days stored up, I can be down in SF in no time.”
That was the last thing Tai wanted. “Thank you. And I’ll be fine. Just don’t break the Fed they send, they’ll make you pay for a new one.”
“No promises,” Iwana said.
Tai was about to say her goodbyes when the other cop nervously cleared her throat. She was a short Asian woman around the same age as Iwana, with thick, powerful legs and a shy demeanor. Tai looked at her expectantly.
“Sorry, I know you are about to leave,” the police officer said apologetically, tightly clutching her coffee. “But I have to know, is it true your mothers are Glenna Jane Roper and Dr. Yume Asano-Roper?”
Tai nodded and smiled politely, not wanting to be rude.
“Wow,” she said. “I’ve been a big fan of theirs my whole life. The “Pink Beret” inspired me to become a police officer.”
Tai cringed inwardly at the mention of the movie based on Mama Jane’s life. The movie chronicled her journey from West Point to Army Special Operations in the early 90s. For the time it had been progressive and groundbreaking, but now it was kind of embarrassing and Tai did not care what anyone said, casting Sandra Bullock to play the badass Army Ranger her mother had been was a huge mistake. But the movie and the book it was based on allowed Tai to live a childhood few dreamed of, so she never complained.
“That’s awesome,” Tai said, trying to sound as convincing as possible. “What’s your name and I’ll say hi to Mama Jane for you or something.”
“Really?!” the woman exclaimed. “That would be great. My name is Star Lang. I wish I had a copy of her book for you to get signed.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Tai said. “We always have copies, I’ll get it signed and give it to Iwana, sound good?”
Star was too pleased to use words, only nodding enthusiastically.
Tai once again prepared to say goodbye when the blonde cop pinned her to her spot with a look.
“Can all cops do that?” Tai thought as she waited for the woman to speak.
“So what was it like growing up in a place like that?” she asked, leaning forward like they were kids telling each other campfire stories. “I’ve heard some crazy things about...that whole setup. But you grew up there, so how was it?”
Tai shrugged, thankful that Iwana couldn’t actually look a hole through another human being. “It was perfectly normal. Great moms, wonderful and interesting women were always around me. Couldn’t ask for more.”
The cop didn’t seem convinced, but Tai didn’t care. In the aftermath of the LuxTech scandal, some pundits saw an opportunity to stir up controversy by highlighting groups they knew would make their audience nervous or scared. Nothing captivated a nation full of angry people like the unknown with a mix of sex and conspiracy. Media giant CMGN and its owner Elliot Carver had led the charge, but the Purple Ray was too small a target to sate Carver’s appetite, only earning a handful of mentions. The real problem for her mothers came from online personalities.
The worst offender had been conspiracy theorist and professional screamer Tuck Buckford. He had sworn her mothers were attempting to develop technology that would allow women to wield a handheld device that could sterilize any man instantly, the first step in creating their ‘Sapphic Social Order’ while at the same time brainwashing women to only crave the sexual touch of another woman. He claimed that while Lore was only guilty of pursuing his interests in the wrong setting, the Purple Ray was a threat to mankind itself.
It had been more sad than scary to Tai. She knew how capable and resourceful the women of the Purple Ray were so she was certain they could take care of themselves. It still bothered her to see them portrayed in such a sinister light.
She had been concerned when members of the Purple Ray started getting death threats, but her mothers swore they would take care of it. Still, now there were people who were convinced she grew up in a female supremacist cult, so that was fun.
“I’ll text once I’ve met with Drue,” Tai said, kissing Iwana on the cheek before starting for the door. Iwana grabbed her arm before Tai could get away.
“That’s all I get?” Iwana said.
Tai smiled, turning and leaning in to kiss Iwana deeply and passionately. The world fell away for both women for a moment before Iwana reluctantly ended the kiss.
“That good enough?” Tai asked, winking as she sauntered away. She collected her motorcycle helmet from the stand beside the door before opening i and heading out.
“Bye everyone,” she said without turning back. “Love you ‘Wana.”
And with that she was gone. The other cops looked at Iwana with smirks, but she did not notice.
“Love you too babygirl,” she said, thankful that she would soon have some incompetent Fed to focus her attention on.
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