After Fran's death, the first order of business for Stephanie and the gladiators was to find a new place to hide out. Not only were there bad memories now associated with the loft, but there was no way of being sure that Parker and his henchmen were the only ones who knew about it. Given that Parker had told them that he'd gotten the information from one of the gladiators who had not chosen to stay with them, it seemed clear enough that no place that was generally known among the gladiators would really be safe. To resolve things--and to take them to another realm--Mindy called one of her acquaintances who'd been a close friend during her days as a tennis pro. The woman did not have anything like space in her home to accommodate them, but she said she knew someone else who might have knowledge of such a place.

And so, they ended up making a nerve-wracking move in broad daylight--the only time vehicles were permitted to move around Washington--to a currently-unused gym on the outskirts of Georgetown. It was even more of a cloak-and-dagger operation because the man who had the keys to the place, while willing enough to allow Mindy and the others to use it, wanted to protect himself. He therefore made it a condition of their occupancy that no one other than Mindy was ever to contact him, know his name, or see his face. As far as all the others were concerned, he was just "The Landlord."

The place turned out to be not only currently-unused but long-unused. What it had been in its last incarnation was apparent enough; the evidence that it had been a school for boxers was everywhere. Boxing as a sport, however, was almost non-existent by then, having been effectively replaced by the gladiatorial games. The gym was dirty and much smaller than the loft they had been using, but, as Peter tried to say cheerfully, beggars could not be choosers. They spent much of their first few hours there cleaning it up a little and dividing it into living spaces, using only curtains to give themselves a bit of privacy. All Stephanie had here was a nook, a mat on the floor to sleep on and a rickety little table to set up her computer. Access was a problem, but the gym did have a working phone line; dialup was usable.

Stephanie was concerned about Mindy. After Fran's death and Parker's execution, they'd taken another risk in carrying Fran's body to the Gladiator's Club. They'd left it there and had made an anonymous call from a public phone letting the commission's members know about it. Stephanie had wondered about this, but Mindy and Peter assured her that the commission would have the body picked up and that it would be dealt with in the same way it would have been if she'd fallen in the arena--by cremation. The police would naturally have been called too, and obviously the case would be listed as a murder, but at the moment, they were all sure, the police had more pressing matters concerning them than the murder of a gladiator. Since they had no way to clean the copious amounts of blood from the loft, they simply left the bodies of Parker and his men there and notified the police via another anonymous call.

But the major source of Stephanie's concern was the way Mindy, after a few hours of all-consuming grief, seemed to put Fran's death behind her. For years, keeping Fran safe had been her major concern. She'd tried to talk to Mindy about it, and the answer she got--that she'd come to terms long ago with the idea that she might fail and that Fran could die in the arena--and how this was little different. But Stephanie was sure she could see a haunted look in the ex-tennis player's eyes, and this worried her.

Mindy also--surprisingly--seemed to be spending much more time with Peter. They had been close friends, and sometimes lovers, before that tragic night in the loft, but now they were closer than ever. This did not seem normal to Stephanie, given that Peter had been the one to execute Fran. Even though he'd done it at Mindy's request, and with obvious reluctance and pain, it seemed to her that Mindy would inevitably carry images of the event with her for at least a while.

Perhaps, Stephanie told herself, Mindy was just more resilient and flexible than she'd believed. Or that, she was sure, she herself could possibly hope to be.

But she could not concentrate on it too very much. She was spending an enormous amount of time on-line, keeping in touch with Melanie's army, being appraised of their moves. Long before the rest of Washington knew about it, she knew that Melanie's army had sidestepped the blockade at the North Carolina border and, thanks to the Navy, were in Annapolis preparing for a final assault on the capitol.

"So what are we supposed to be doing?" Stephanie typed.

"You are supposed to be sitting tight for the moment," Eileen--"Pocahontas"--told her. "Keep out of sight, stay safe. We don't know yet what might come up that we need you for, and we want to keep your group in reserve. My dad wants to know what sort of arms you have now."

"We only had one to start with, but we keep gaining them in these encounters," Stephanie answered. "Three handguns and four submachine guns now. And quite a bit of ammunition."

"That's what we thought. Could be better. Dad says he thinks we should try to get some guns in to you. At least twenty or so."

"Sounds risky."

"If it's too risky we don't want to do it. But we might be able to without much risk at all."

"How?"

"We have several army trucks here in Annapolis. You were able to drive one around without ever being challenged; we think we could send one in to you with a couple of crates of weapons inside. They'd be military issue, so even if the truck were to be stopped it wouldn't necessarily give the drivers away."

"Those drivers are going to be taking a big risk..."

"One we're quite ready to take, Stephanie," Conch said.

"You?"

A smiley-face appeared on her screen. "No. Me and Prof. Want us to come visit you?"

"I don't think so. I think the risks are too high. I don't want anything happening to you guys."

"We know. But we want to do this, Stephanie. We think it could be important later. Besides, it'll give me and Prof something to do. Keep us out of trouble."

"I don't like it."

"Well, bluntly, too bad. Orders, you know. You want to tell us where to come?"

Stephanie sighed. "Maybe. Let me check on something first. BRB."

"Maybe?" Conch was echoing as she got up from the computer.

It took only a moment for her to find Mindy, and only a couple of minutes more for her to explain the plan. "Now what I want to know, Mindy," she said, "is, how do you feel about this? Will it work out, or not? I have sure as hell learned to respect your feelings!"

Mindy nodded and stared at the floor. "When it's like this," she said slowly, "I can't be as sure. Sorry, that's just the way it is. When I feel it's going to bad, it always is." She looked up. "But I don't have any bad feelings about this. Let's tell them to come ahead."

Stephanie nodded, went back to the computer, and relayed the decision. She then gave them the directions, not only to the old gym but also to an alleyway she'd previously noted that ran behind it, an ideal place to unload contraband.

Three hours later, entirely without incident of any sort, the truck had rolled in and had been unloaded--and the group was richer by some fifty assault rifles--not twenty--and a whole crate full of ammunition. The next decision was whether Frank Lindner--"Conch"--or Andy Steiner--"Prof"--were going to go back or stay.

Fairly easily, a decision was made that they should stay. Two of the gladiators moved the truck to a secluded spot a few blocks away; there was a thought that it might be useful in the future but that it also might be discovered, and if it were they surely did not want it pointing a finger at their hideout. The remainder of the evening was calm; Frank and Andy, after being introduced by Stephanie, seemed at ease with the gladiators. Stephanie went back to her computer to make a final report to Eileen.

She was on quite a while. And, almost the moment she got off, the telephone rang.

"Yes?" she said noncommittally when she picked it up.

"It's the Landlord," a gruff voice replied. "I want to talk to Mindy. I want to know what that truck was doing in the alley earlier. I want to know if you've been found."

"No," Stephanie told him. "We haven't. Those were--"

"I only talk to Mindy," he said, cutting her off. "That was the deal."

"Oh. Okay, I'll get her." She rose, left her own little area, and walked over to Mindy's, which was quite close by. "Mindy, the--" she started to say as she pushed the curtain aside. She stopped speaking; Mindy was there, but she wasn't alone. Peter was with her, both were nude, and Mindy was lying half across him, his erect cock in her mouth.

"Damn," Stephanie said as Mindy raised her head. "I'm really sorry, I should have knocked--or yelled, or something--"

"Don't worry about it," Mindy said. "What's up?"

"The Landlord. Demanding to speak to you on the phone. About the truck, he apparently saw it."

"Fuck." She looked down at Peter's erection; it hadn't faded at all. "Well, I guess I better go calm him down. Fuck." She bounced up to her feet. "Finish up for me here, would you, Stephanie?" she said casually, gesturing toward Peter. Then she pushed the curtain aside and walked out.

Stephanie blinked. Peter rolled his eyes and laughed. "It's just the way she is, Stephanie," he said. "Don't pay any attention. Obviously, you don't have to." He started to get up.

But Stephanie had already been thinking about it, and thinking about what her life had been like for the past nine years. "No," she said. She dropped to her knees. "Mindy's my friend and she asked me to do something for her. Believe me, it'll be my pleasure." Ignoring the startled look on his face, she pushed him back down, stretched out beside him, and took his erection in her hand. As she slipped it into her mouth she pressed her legs against his shoulder, tacitly encouraging him to touch her, which he immediately did. He did not last long at all; a minute or two later he was spraying warm semen into her mouth. She swallowed it all.

"If this is the way of the new order in America," he said a few seconds later, "let me tell you, I like it!"