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Rated: E · Chapter · Action/Adventure · #2075133
How do you stop the meddling of the Dark Angel? Scorpio knows you need the perfect bait.
The corridor was empty and dark, the only light source came from the office at the far end of the hallway. It was a Friday evening and the majority of the staff in the building had gone home to enjoy the start of the weekend.

She pushed the laundry cart through the darkened corridor, her soft footfalls and a squeaky wheel on the cart seemingly amplified by the deserted nature of the rest of the building. She paused for a moment at the office with its lights still burning to read the name on the door and went inside.

"Oh goodness!" She exclaimed in mock surprise as the man looked up from his desk, "I'm sorry Major, I thought everyone had gone home for the night."

Major Steve Waggoner flashed a smile as he waved away her apology. "Sorry." He replied with a shrug of his broad shoulders, "Finishing off a few reports. I was away most of the day acting as an observer on a field exercise," he indicated the short sleeved olive shirt and matching pants he wore in place of his more formal tunic uniform, "So I'm a bit behind."

"Want me to come back?"

"Yeah, that'd be great." He said, favoring her with another winning smile. It wasn't hard to see why the damned Angel was so taken with this man; he was almost effortlessly handsome; flint-jawed, tall, tanned, with golden blonde hair and a muscular frame that was easily visible from behind the tight confines of his informal uniform. "If you could give me...thirty minutes?" Waggoner asked, checking the time on a heavy and obviously expensive gold watch, clamped tightly onto his left wrist.

"Sure Major, just let me empty your waste basket." She said, stepping forward.

"That's not necessary." Waggoner said quickly as she reached his desk. "It contains some confidential information. Policy says I have to dispose of all such paperwork myself." He explained kindly, obviously assuming he was talking to a new member of staff who had not been fully briefed on the do's and don'ts of her job.

"Oh, I'm sorry Major."

"It's fine." Waggoner replied, his smile never faltering. "Thirty minutes?" He tapped the face of his watch.

"Sure thing." She smiled as she turned to go. "Oh! I almost forgot..." She spun around as she pulled the small cannister from her pocket and slammed it on Waggoner's desk. Thick white smoke began to spew from the device instantly, catching the Major where he sat. She quickly stepped back and raised the previously hidden breather to her nose and mouth as the gas quickly enveloped Waggoner.

"What....*cough*.... "What is this!?" The Major tried to wave the smoke away as he rose to his feet but it was a fruitless task. He coughed again as he sank back into his chair. With a soft moan he slumped over his desk and remained motionless.

She waited until the gas began to dissipate and never took her eyes from Waggoner who had not moved since he collapsed across his desk.She grabbed a hold of his left wrist and lifted it into the air. There was no resistance to the action and she let the limp limb drop onto the desk, his heavy gold watch racketing noisily against the polished wood was almost music to her ears.

She allowed herself her first real smile of the evening as she seized the unconscious Waggoner under the arms and locking her hands across his chest pulled him from his slumped position. Even a man with such a large frame at a dead weight was little trouble for her and she easily dragged his limp body across his office and to the waiting laundry cart outside.

With care she left his unconscious form on the bed of clothing held inside. She took a moment to admire her handiwork as the sound of footsteps approached from the far end of the corridor. "Miss Scorpio?"

Fausta turned with a triumphant grin, seizing Waggoner's limp wrist once more, holding it up to her man; "Now we have the bait to capture the Dark Angel!"
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