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“Agent Rasa here. The perimeter is secure. DCI, report.”
“Agent Lima checking in. The event hall has been secured. All clear.”
“Dare here. Stairwells and lifts have been secured.”
“This is MacCoy. The kitchens and prep areas look good. Nothing out of the ordinary down here.”
“Miss Aubrey reporting. Everything is fine upstairs. Ugh, who picked this color for our uniforms, anyway? I am obviously an autumn, and this dusky purple does nothing for my complexion. This catsuit is seriously riding up. How come I have to wear the latex?”
“Where did you say you were again, princesa? If you want someone to tell you how good you look, I can oblige you.” Angel’s smooth voice flowed into everyone’s earpieces, followed by Dare’s loud guffaw.
Rasa shook his head as he squeezed the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger.
“Agents,” he said sternly, hoping to get the mission back on track. “We are here because we received a report that Dr. Tan was sending his robot army to crash this party. Our mission here is to protect the governor and his guests from Tan’s robots and mind control devices. The last thing we need is for the governor’s son, three-time World Hip Hop Dance Competition champion Brent Brant, to succumb to Tan’s nefarious plot. We can’t afford a dance off against such an accomplished opponent and our top priority is to make sure he stays well away from the enemy’s clutches. Are we clear, agents?”
“Yes, sir,” came the simultaneous reply.
“Good. Now sweep your assigned zones one more time before we get changed for the party.”
“Wait, you mean we get to change clothes?”
“Aubrey!”
“Sorry, boss.”
Rasa sighed heavily. “Get to it. Rasa out.”
Rasa swept the perimeter of the building one more time before coordinating with the governor’s personal security staff for how the night was going to go. The guards would remain uniformed and armed in key positions throughout the building, while DCI would be attending the party undercover as “guests”, ready to leap into action at the first sign of trouble.
After the second sweep, they all met upstairs in the upper atrium to report in before heading to their rooms to change. Emilia and Bodie were already there waiting for the team with a luggage rack. Formalwear draped in clothing bags hung from the rack, and each garment was tagged with the owner’s name. Shoes were haphazardly piled at the bottom of the cart.
Rasa looked at the shoes, then at Emilia. Emilia shrugged and smiled sheepishly.
“Bodie and I are headed back to HQ to monitor the situation from there. Taye already has surveillance running.”
Rasa nodded. “Good work, Emilia. Bodie. You know the drill. Connect with us on comms if anything seems off.”
“You got it, Boss.” Bodie held out his fist to Rasa for a fist bump.
Rasa just glared at him, so Bodie saluted instead, then grabbed Emilia by the elbow and herded her toward the elevator. Emilia waved over her shoulder at the other agents as she let herself be led away.
The agents approached the rack and located their clothing bags with their names. As for the shoes – fortunately everyone already knew which shoes were theirs as these were their own shoes that they’d been instructed to bring to work today anyway. Rasa had thought of everything. Probably. He doled out everyone’s room keys and they all headed off to their respective rooms to change.
When it came time for the party, they coordinated entering the main ballroom in pairs so as not to arouse suspicion. They mingled and tried to blend in the best they could while maintaining constant surveillance on the governor, his family, and the other party goers. The entire thing was rather uneventful, as far as nefarious dance crimes went.
Rasa couldn’t help but be distracted several times by Lima’s graceful form. She glided through the party making small talk and charming everyone she met. It helped that she was an absolute knockout – her dark hair was pinned artfully on top of her head, and she sported a sleeveless navy gown covered in beads and sequins. At every step, every turn, the beads caught the light and sparkled. Her dress was cut low in the back. Rasa wrinkled his brow for a moment. She couldn’t be hiding her piece at the small of her back – not with that dress. Maybe she had it in a leg holster.
He pretended to loiter at the drink table and pretended not to stare at her out of the corner of her eye. She sidled up to him under the guise of procuring a drink for herself.
“Hey, stranger,” she told him, making small talk. “Do you come to these kinds of things often?”
Something about the way she smiled at him brought an unexpected heat to his face. “Not often, no,” he answered. “You look lovely tonight.”
Emilia’s giggle came over his earpiece. Rasa had completely forgotten for a moment that the whole team could hear his mic.
Lima smiled. “Would you like to dance?”
Angel let out a low whistle. “You gotta go for it, boss.”
“Don’t worry, we’ll watch the party while you’re having fun,” Emilia chimed in.
Lima smiled even wider – she could hear them, too – and took his hand, leading him out onto the dance floor. “They can handle it for a few minutes. Come on.”
He cleared his throat. “Alright, just one.”
His earpiece was filled with hoots and hollers from the other agents, loud enough that he had to bark at them under his breath to settle down.
As Lima placed one hand in his and the other on his shoulder, he couldn’t help but smile. He took a moment to listen to the song that was playing – I’ve Got You Under My Skin, by Frank Sinatra. Fitting. They swayed slowly on the dance floor among the other couples. At the end of the song, the New Year’s countdown started. The DJ had timed it particularly well. Lima placed her head on his shoulder, and they stared out the window as the countdown reached one, and everyone shouted, “Happy New Year!” as fireworks began to explode in the sky.
“Happy New Year, Agent Rasa,” she said,
“Happy New Year, Agent Lima.”
She took her head from his shoulder and stared into his eyes. His eyes dropped to her lips, and he felt like a compass being drawn to his true north.
Suddenly someone screamed and the sound of shattering glass silenced the partygoers. He hastily stepped away from Lima and looked around for signs of Dr. Tan or his minions. He reached into his jacket, ready to draw if needed.
His eyes focused on an opening in the crowd, where the governor’s son was down on one knee with a ring box in his hands as he held it up to his long-time girlfriend. The governor’s wife was the one who had dropped the glass, in shock, and the partygoers started applauding as the lucky girl brought her hands to her face and nodded an eager “yes”.
“Is everything alright?” Emilia’s voice came through the earpiece after having heard the commotion.
“Yes,” Rasa answered her. “All’s clear here. Brent just proposed to his girlfriend. It caused a bit of a ruckus. I guess I ought to go and congratulate the happy couple.”
“Oh, how sweet,” Dare sighed. “Isn’t that just wonderful, MacCoy?”
MacCoy gulped. “Um… yes?”
Emilia started to giggle and the rest of the DCI agents broke out into laughter as well.
As the party wound down a few hours later, Rasa congratulated the team on another job well done. There had been no sign of Dr. Tan, and no mundane non-dance related criminal activity either. They headed off to their rooms to spend the night before heading back home to DCI in the morning. The world of dance was safe for another day.