them the best table in the house and offering complimentary Champagne and hors d'oeuvres. Despite a feigned attempt at a disdainful reserve, select members of the other patrons visited their table all evening, greeting them, asking to pose for photos, and otherwise attempting to ingratiate themselves with a famous pair of celebrities.
They did justice to Dizzy's instructions, and when Eile got the bill she felt pride rather than sticker shock at their $11,253 tab, and she added an additional $1250 for a tip. Then again, she doubted such an amount would have been difficult to raise, considering the menu had no prices. She figured they went by the adage, if you have to ask you couldn't afford it.
They asked the maitre d' where to find the nearest club, and he directed them to Brony's a few blocks away. It turned out to be an exclusive boutique nightclub, but as soon as the bouncer manning the door spotted them coming up the street with their entourage and escort in tow, he waved them over and let them in ahead of the block-long line. Though a few would-be patrons shouted protests, they were quickly silenced by others as "Sister Act!" whispered up and down the line. Once inside, the manager appeared and practically drooled down his front as he fawned all over them. He gave them a private table on an upper mezzanine which nonetheless lay in full view of the crowd, and they purchased his most expensive bottle service, which came with a VIP host. They finally settled in for what they planned to be a few hours of meet-and-greet before moving on to another club.
They let anyone visit them who wanted to, and soon they had a small, tight group of hangers-on filling the mezzanine. They evicted them only when they went down to dance, but a new group quickly formed after they returned. Several times they requested specific songs, and in each instance their selection played next. When they asked what kinds of snacks were available, the management brought out a portable hibachi grill and custom-made dishes to their order. Eile realized from all the attention just how spoiled celebutantes could become: if she and Sunny were treated like that all the time, they could start to think they were better than regular people, too.
After about two and a half hours, Sunny indicated she needed to use the little girls' room. Eile went with her, and bouncers stood outside the door to make sure no one else could come in. Sunny went into one of the stalls and Eile checked her hair in the mirror. The technician at the spa had applied a spray to keep the sculpted strands in place, and she wanted to make sure everything was still intact. She reapplied a little to cover areas that were unraveling, checked her makeup, and refreshed her lip gloss. By then ten minutes had gone by, and she realized Sunny had been very quiet.
She approached the stall door. "Sunny?" She received no reply.
"You okay in there?" She tried the door, and found it unlatched.
"This better not be some kinda prank, ya butthead." She pushed the door open. "I'm not in the mood--"
The stall was empty.
Alarmed, she started to step inside, when someone grabbed her from behind, throwing an arm around her waist as he clamped a cloth saturated with chloroform over her nose and mouth. She slammed her elbow into his gut and raked a stiletto heel down his shin before stomping on his insteps. He shrieked and let her go, but before she could turn around someone else hit her over the head. Her vision exploded into stars and went black.
Eile awoke with a headache, but she still realized that she lay on a cot in what looked like a storeroom. She was gagged and her hands and feet were tied. Looking around, she spotted Sunny in the same situation lying on a cot beside her. Her partner glanced at her and winked to assure her she was otherwise okay, but her eyes betrayed her anxiety.
Eile, however, felt mad. This is getting ta be monotonous.
A door opened, and three goons entered, followed by an old man walking hunched over. One of the goons placed a chair at the foot of the cots while the others removed their gags.
"Good evening, Ladies," said the Monty Burns voice; "I am Mr. X." He sat in the chair; he even looked like Mr. Burns.
"At last, we finally meet," Sunny said, in her cartoon villain drawl.
"Put a sock in it, ya ditz. Alright, you got us. I suppose yer gonna demand a huge ransom for our release."
"I might, if you were the real Sister Act, but of course, you're not."
Eile figured as much, but Sunny tried to bluff it out. "What makes you say that?"
"Please, I've seen you before. Besides, I admit your disguises are very good, but they cannot stand up to close inspection. I will further admit that you two led me on a merry chase, but the game is over." His false pleasantry disappeared as his face took on a dark expression and his voice lowered to a growl. "I only have three questions; lie or refuse to answer, and I will have you drowned like rats tied to cement blocks to make sure you never resurface. But if you tell me the truth, I'll have my men drop you off wherever you choose, and we will never see each other again. Understood?"
"Do your worst!" Sunny said. "We'll never talk!"
"Shut up, ya butthead! Whaddya wanna know?"
Sunny whipped her head around and threw her a shocked look. "No, we can't!"
"I'm not dyin' for them, ya bimbo. We're risking our lives for those spoiled brats, and they treated us like dirt. Not ta mention they're blackmailing us. I just wanna chance ta get back at that Dizzy."
X flashed a startled look. "Who is this Dizzy?"
"She's got some sorta stupid name; Disraeli Serasu--"
"--Haelsing."
"Yeah, that's the bitch. Ya know her?"
"Our paths have crossed before. How is she involved?"
"She's their bodyguard."
"Of course, I should have guessed. Well, then, since you seem inclined to cooperate, tell me who you are?"
"You say one word, and I'll make sure Dizzy breaks you in two!"
"Do me a favor and shut her up?!"
X nodded, and one of the goons re-gagged Sunny, despite her vehement protests.
"Yeah, much better. Okay, I'm Jean Marelys and she's Kitty Aourgen. We're actresses, or at least we're tryin' ta be. When Disraeli rescued us from yer flunkies' earlier screw-up, she saw we looked enough like Sister Act to impersonate 'em, with a bit of cosmetic work. So she hired us on the spot."
"Then why blackmail you?"
"We weren't too keen on risking our lives, not for a hundred an hour plus expenses."
"What could she possibly have on you two?"
"We hafta turn tricks on the side ta make ends meet. We specialize in the kinkier stuff, but that doesn't look good on a resume. If our agent found out, he'd blackball us, and we'd never break inta show business."
"I see. My second question was to have been, who put you up to this, but that seems rather obvious. So, my third is, where are Sonya and Ellen?"
"What's it worth to ya?"
"I think a better question is, what is it worth to you?"
"If you kill us, yer back ta square one, but make a deal, and you can have them by morning. What's more important to ya?"
He mulled their proposition over for a few minutes. "What would you want?"
"Disraeli gave us a debit card with expense money on it; a lot. Give it back to us, and we'll tell you what you wanna know."
X nodded. "That sounds equitable. Return their possessions."
One of the goons left the room, but returned shortly with their bags.
"Untie her hands."
He cut her bonds and handed her their bags. She rummaged through Sunny's and found the card.
"Now, then, where are they?"
"Untie us, and we'll take you to 'em."
"Just tell me the address."
"We don't know it, but we know how ta get there."
"Then, tell me how to get there."
"Yeah, right, and as soon as you find them, you call yer thugs and have them kill us. Just 'cause we're girls doesn't mean we're stupid. We're comin' along, and when we take you to the house you let us go, or no deal."
"In that case, I have no further use for you."
"Fine; kil
l us now, but you'll lose yer one chance ta grab 'em. Once Disraeli learns we're dead or just disappeared, she'll get 'em outta the city. Or you can play fair with us, and you can get 'em all in a coupla hours, Disraeli as well as them. What's it ta be?"
X stared at here in an intimidating manner, as if trying to get her to back down, but she just set her jaw and gazed back with resolute feeling. Finally, his expression relaxed into resignation and he nodded. "Very well. You have a deal, Ms. Marelys. Untie them."
One of the goons cut the bonds securing their ankles while another removed Sunny's gag. They gestured for them to get up while the third goon helped X to stand and to walk out of the room. She and Sunny took their bags and followed as their pair brought up the rear.
They emerged into what looked to Eile like another warehouse, except it had a large number of catwalks crisscrossing above them near the ceiling. It looked as if it had been deserted for some time, and a great deal of junk had been left behind. She spotted a pile of scrap metal lying off the one side, and mixed in with rusted gears, panels, and girders were a crowbar and a pole.
She reached up as if to scratch the side of her head, and nudged Sunny in the shoulder with her elbow. Her partner shifted her eyes to look at her, and she tapped her temple. Sunny took a couple of large steps forward and surreptitiously glanced in the direction she had indicated. Sunny clasped her hands behind her back, then signaled a countdown by display first three fingers, then two, and finally one.
When she made a first, the two of them broke away at a dead run and raced for the pile. Dropping their