Ms Patriot: The Heroine Trade (Chapter 10) (Patreon)

Chapter 10

Patriot Cave, 9 PM…

While Ms Patriot checked the Grimme City and surrounding suburbs’ police data bases for reports of missing women, Britannia was going through the city’s elaborate camera system. While local bad guys have done a good job of disabling the cameras in crime-ridden districts, a lot of cameras still worked on the streets surrounding those areas. She actually spotted the human traffickers once in an entertainment district near the local university, but they were departing the area.

Britannia worried her lip as she flipped from camera to camera in her endless search to find them again. Ms Patriot wanted to go check out the place where she’d been kept and sexually abused for a month. Madison never wanted to see that place again, yet her new friend was correct in that it offered the best chance of finding a clue.

After many hours out in the sun, naked and making love to Jennifer, she now felt like she could be between one third and half way charged up. She’d like at least another full day to charge up, but both heroines felt the press of time. Their missing friends needed them, demanded their best efforts. It didn’t help that Ms Patriot admitted to only being about halfway powered up as well, but it didn’t seem to faze her in the least.

Of course, at twenty-five, Ms Patriot had at least seven years experience on her. At eighteen, Britannia had a lot of training, but not a lot of experience. Still, when in her full power it was hard to resist Britannia of His Majesty’s 6.

“It’s nine. I think it’s dark enough to go check out the old hideout,” Ms Patriot said.

Britannia nodded, heart racing. She had nothing but terrible memories of that evil place.

“What about that entertainment district I saw them driving through?”

Ms Patriot did a double-take on her. Frowned. “Entertainment district? Sweetie, that was Sugar Town, the city’s largest, most notorious red light district. I think that sighting just confirms that the slavers are concentrating on hookers and strippers at the moment. What our society considers disposable women. Women unworthy of our concern and help.”

“That’s terrible. No human being should be considered disposable.”

“I agree. But on the other hand, those hookers and strippers will attack us just as fast as anyone else,” she said. “They don’t consider heroines friends.”

Ms Patriot stood and paused to adjust her costume, pull up on her thigh boots. Then she struck a classic super heroine pose to stare off into space a second.

“How does this sound to you?” she said. “We’ll go check out their old hideout, and if we don’t find any clues, then we’ll go over to Sugar Town and look for them. Though honestly, there is so much crime going down over there I don’t know how long we can go before we spot something where we have no choice but step in to stop.”

“Actually, a little crime stopping action sounds good,” Britannia said.

“It does feel good to help someone,” she conceded. “Come. Ride with me in the car.”

“I can fly us over. I’m much stronger now.”

“Tempting, but it’s night and I don’t want to waste your stored energy. You’ll save even more power to fight the slavers by riding into town with me.”

“You are very wise, and so young.” That comment made her think. “You worry about me burning through my energy too quickly. Does that mean you can burn up all of your stored energy?”

Ms Patriot shook her head, but then stopped with her mouth open. She reconsidered, and gave a little shrub.

“As long as I am sexually frustrated, I’m empowered. Fighting and intense activity does mute it a little, but not as much as you’d think,” she said. Then she grimaced. “But if I suffer a, um, setback. If I’m climaxed two, three, or more times… Well I’m in trouble. It’s doesn’t take much to sate my libido, and then I’m depowered again.”

“Do you suffer setbacks often?”

Again, hesitation, then an embarrassed look.

“That depends on what you consider ‘often.’”

Eyes wide, Britannia turned away ready to drop that too sensitive subject. But Ms Patriot persisted.

“Don’t get me wrong. Setbacks are rare, but they happen. The problem is with the criminal culture in Grimme City,” she said. “The bad guys one and all think catching and banging a super heroine the penultimate prize, or honor, or something. They just want to get their nasty little dicks inside us. It hasn’t always been this way, but it’s has been since before I started.”

“It’s not much better in the UK, from what I’ve heard. It’s just that HM6 heroines aren’t known for having setbacks. My recent capture was my first defeat ever.”

She stopped there. Truth was, Maddy wasn’t the first Britannia. Every one before her had gone MIA. Never to be heard from again. Indeed, she was certain the ministry was even then looking for the next Britannia. They tried to replace that vaulted position as quickly as possible. And many other HM6 heroines, and other super heroines, had gone missing without a trace over the years.

Not a subject Britannia, or any heroine, cared to talk about. So she stood and smiled at her American friend.

“Let’s do this. I feel the need to break some bones.”

“Atta girl!”

They jumped into the Patriot Mobile and took off. Britannia found Ms Patriot’s need for automotive speed frightening. At the same time, she got them back into the city proper in record time. They rolled to a stop just three blocks over from the human traffickers’ hideout before she knew it.

“I’ll go over on foot, through the back alleys,” Ms Patriot said. “While you scout them out from the air.” She pulled out her phone. “Let’s stay on a call until we go inside.”

One of many nice things Jennifer provided to Britannia was a smart phone. She wasn’t used to carrying one, but Jennifer had her special tailor sew a hidden pocket for the phone at the small of her back. Ms Patriot called her number, and their connection was established. Then they clipped Bluetooth mics on their ears and pocketed the phones.

Britannia waited until Ms Patriot vanished into the night-shrouded alley, before she lifted up and over the surrounding buildings. Flying just above the rooftops, she approached the hideout warily. It was an old abandoned store, with two empty floors above ground level. All of their illegal activities were in the basement. Until that fly about, she hadn’t realized what a poor neighborhood it was within. The level of poverty was shocking.

“I see a hidden camera,” Ms Patriot said. “Not sure who it belongs to, but let’s assume it was put there by Chekov and friends.”

“I agree. Expect a reception committee.”

There was a small parking pad behind the store, which was empty. No lights whatsoever. She took a chance and flew into a window, all glass long gone. She found warped wooden floors within, lots of trash, and graffiti on all walls, floor, and ceiling. Her heels echoed as she moved through front to back, and flew out a back window. She heard nothing but her passage through. So she dropped to the second floor and did the same. Still nothing.

“Are you inside?” Ms Patriot asked.

“I was,” she replied. “I checked the top two floors. They are clear.”

She flew around to the front and spotted Ms Patriot coming out of an alley. They met at the front door.

“The door they used is in back.”

Ms Patriot nodded. “I figured as much. And we usually go in through back doors, which is why I want to use the front this time.”

Britannia stopped her from just grabbing the door knob. Instead, she placed herself between the other heroine and the door, erected her energy shield, and then kicked the door open. It exploded. High explosives, maybe even a couple hand grenades. Hard to tell, but her shield protected them.

“Well, that was disturbing,” Ms Patriot said. “But my power belt would have protected me.”

“Good to know,” Britannia said, stepping through the smoke and falling debris. “Shall we go apply some extreme pain on them?”

They charged into the unknown, as super heroines do. The ground floor was quickly and efficiently searched and determined safe. Ms Patriot discovered the stairs down near the back door. Britannia flew down ahead of her to clear the way and was immediately hit by a host of unpleasant memories. She found the corridor with all the rooms they held and fucked captives. The bondage device where she’d been held for weeks and weeks remained, though the fucking machine was gone. They found a stripped computer room that Ms Patriot thought had been their security operation, with lots of coaxial cables hanging down from the ceiling.

What they didn’t find were captives or human traffickers. Not a scrap of paper. Nothing to indicate where they went. A total bust.

“Shall we have a go at Sugar Town?”

Ms Patriot nodded. “Yes. That is the only clue we have so far. Let’s go. It’s not far.”