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Poacher cleared his throat. “Personally, I’m just wondering why everyone was so surprised that Mull was a chick, and how in the hell no one else noticed that her breasts are fantastic.

I noticed it day one, no matter the cheap costume she wears.

” He pointed at her. “Look at ‘em! How could you not see them all this time?”

The entire room turned in unison to judge the woman’s body.

Oz’s eyes stayed there.

They were… remarkable , yes.

They were utterly perfect in his opinion. Full, but soft and delicate. They added deeply feminine curves to her body, and Oz had spent more time than he cared to admit daydreaming about them. And they weren’t even her best feature!

The thing about Natalie Quentin was that each aspect of her was made better by the others. So, her breasts were amazing on their own, but paired with her stunning legs, sparkling eyes and entrancingly shiny hair? They were made even better, something which he wouldn’t have assumed was possible.

“Ya think?” Natalie looked oddly interested in the topic, looking down at her body as well. “I’ve never been in love with them.”

“Nah, you’re good. Perfect size and shape.

” Poacher waved off that concern and it was possibly the first time Oz had ever agreed with the maniac.

He was now contemplating killing him right here for admiring Natalie’s body, true, but Oz still agreed with him.

“How do you do so much running and flipping around? Do your costumes have support?”

“Sports bra, then body armor, and you’re all strapped down and ready to rock.” Natalie gave the man a thumbs up.

Oz’s mind imagined the soft-looking globes of flesh being pressed against the rough fabric of a Kevlar vest…

The pencil he was holding snapped in his hand.

“Really?” Poacher nodded, like this was information he’d one day need. “Huh.”

“Wow.” Bridget shook her head sadly. “I’m so glad we had this conversation about Multifarious’ décolletage .”

Cynic frowned in confusion. “Like paper glued down onto shit?” He snorted dismissively. “Fuck crafts.”

Poacher shook his head. “Amy made me a décolletaged serving tray once that was pretty epic.”

“Not ‘decoupage,’ you moron,” Emily swatted at him, “ décolletage! It means breasts!”

“To be fair,” Cory defended, “maybe it was a serving tray decoupaged with pictures of…”

“Enough.” Bridget announced firmly. “Moving on.”

Higgins suddenly stood up and stalked over to his boss. He leaned down and whispered something into Monty’s ear.

“Interesting.” Monty’s brow compressed in thought. “You sure?”

Higgins nodded.

Monty frowned slightly. “Well, I don’t see how that could possibly help us to…

” He paused and a slow smile crept across his scarred face.

“Oh. Wait... I’ve had an epiphany . Yes, I think we can engineer something like that.

” He began to write something down. “We need to get to work. When the meeting is over, gather the Executive Staff, I’ll start setting things up. ”

Higgins nodded eagerly.

Bridget crossed her arms over her chest. “Care to share this stunning discovery?”

Monty pretended not to hear them, focusing on his paperwork.

Bridget cleared her throat loudly. “ Montgomery? ”

Monty looked up. “I’m sorry, did you say something to me?”

“What did he say?” Bridget pressed. “What’s the story on the armor?”

Monty made a show of looking into the crystal globe on top of his cane. “Among other things, Higgins says he has never seen anything like it before.”

“And?”

“And if Higgins hasn’t seen it, it doesn’t exist.” Monty leaned back in his chair. “At least not here. ”

“Meaning what?” Bridget’s eyebrows rose. “You are seriously telling me that you believe that aliens or an interdimensional being blew up the hospital?”

“No, don’t be ridiculous.” Monty shook his head. “I’m telling you that the Agletarians blew up the hospital using alien and/or interdimensional technology.”

Bridget snorted.“Bullshit.”

“Okay.” Montgomery made a show of pulling out his phone.

“You’re right, I’m sure. This is technology which can be found anywhere, I mean, I’m just in charge of purchasing, so what would I know.

You say it’s readily available, so I guess I’ll just have to find this armor for sale somewhere.

” He typed something in. “I suppose I’ll start with ‘Etsy’… ”

Emily snickered.

Bridget didn’t bother replying, and spun in her chair. “Cynic? This is your department. You want to tell me why we have to listen to Monty for an Intelligence report now?” She stared at the man for a long moment, just noticing his bizarre attire. “What fresh hell is this?”

“Libs and me have switched places today.” Cynic explained, straightening his tweed suitcoat. “It’s part of this…”

“Contraction.” Librarian interrupted, putting her sandaled feet up on the conference table.

“Fuck!” Cynic pounded the table in anger and pointed at Bridget.

“ She made me do it! ” He took a calming breath, his eyes traveling up and down his wife’s legs which were currently exposed, thanks to the cargo shorts she was wearing.

“It’s part of this thing where we’re trying to better understand each other…

or something. Honestly, I don’t really remember why we’re doing it anymore. But it’s sexy as fuck.”

Librarian shook her head. “That does not sound like something I would say.”

“Oh yeah, well I think I would have pointed out how hot you look in my style of clothes by now.” His eyes ran down the front of his wife’s T-shirt, which advertised that it was from Mars, Arizona.

The tagline read, “Get Your Ass to Mars” and featured a prospector trying to shove a smiling cartoon donkey down a dirt road towards the town.

Marian moved under his gaze, her breathing visibly quickening. “I’m just waiting for the right time.”

Cynic shook his head. “I never wait for the right time!”

“Seems like you did last night.” His wife arched an eyebrow flirtatiously. “And twice this morning.”

“See?” Cynic snapped is fingers. “Inappropriate discussions of private sexual matters in front of a room full of our coworkers? Now that sounds like me.” He pulled his wife onto his lap. “It’s uncanny.”

“Contraction.” She whispered in his ear.

Cynic pounded the table in frustration again. “ Fuck! ”

“As fascinating as this is, I’d still like a report on why all of this is happening, Cynic.” Bridget pressed. “I recognize that this is how you usually do things, but Wyatt is in the hospital and innocent people are dead.”

Cynic cleared his throat, slightly more serious now.

“Word is, the Agletarians are hell-bent on getting us this time. We’ve culled their crazy herd for years and now we’re left with the most diehard homicidal sons-a-bitches they got and they literally have nothing left to lose.

Thus, in my professional opinion: we’re fucked . ”

Bridget ran a hand through her hair. “Marian?”

Cynic’s wife nodded in agreement. “I concur with Steven’s profane but entirely accurate assessment of this situation. In fact, if anything, he has understated the matter.”

Bridget pinched the bridge of her nose. “Well, then I’d say we have a very serious security issue on our hands.”

All eyes turned to the empty Security Department chair where Miles Gloriosus, AKA “Keystone,” typically sat.

Since his return from Agletaria, the Consortium’s aging tough guy hadn’t been seen much and today was no exception.

The assembly turned to look at the stoic face of Barbara Frith, AKA “Bobbi,” standing behind the vacant chair.

She cleared her throat. “The Captain is…” She paused as if searching for the right word to describe her commanding officer, “…on sabbatical.”

Poacher rolled his eyes. “Translation: ‘he’s off the wagon.’”

Bobbi’s eyes narrowed dangerously, obviously taking offense. “He is taking some well-deserved personal time.”

“…at the liquor store.” Poacher finished for her.

Bridget let out a long breath. “Fine. Well, tell Miles we wish him the best in whatever he chooses to do.”

“…whether that be booze or blow.” Poacher added under his breath.

“ Enough , Sydney.” Bridget snapped, like a babysitter scolding a child.

“Fine.” He shrugged and held up his hands in surrender. “Sorry I pointed out he’s always been a drunken loser.”

“He’s not .” Bobbi’s face flashed with uncharacteristic anger at Poacher. “Miles is the…”

Bridget cut her off. “So, are you in charge of the Excessive Force then? Could you give us a rundown of how your security detail plans on stopping the Agletarians?”

Bobbi’s face fell and she looked down at the floor. “I’m afraid I can’t do that. For all intents and purposes, the Excessive Force has been wiped out as a fighting unit.”

“So who’s going to handle security?”

“I could get my girls in here to do it.” Poacher offered. “They’ve been asking to spend more time with me anyway, and I been teaching them all kinds of useful shit.”

“Girls?” Holly asked in confusion.

“He means his fan club members.” Cory clarified. “The little girls who have joined the ‘Poacher Pals.’ ”

Bridget shook her head. “We are not arming preteens and sending them into harm’s way.”

Tyrant looked pointedly at Stacy. “ Anymore .”

The girl made a face at him.

Monty leaned forward. “Until this staffing crisis can be dealt with, my Irregulars are only too happy to assume the responsibility of protecting the Crater Lair as well. …Under my supervision, obviously.” His smile grew. “It would be our genuine pleasure .”

Bridget didn’t look happy over that idea and glanced down the table at Oz. “How about any of our newer members? Do they want to…‘help’, Monty’s men?” She stressed the word, emphasizing that their responsibilities would be to watch for threats from the Purchasing and Production Department itself.