Framing Felipe

Framing Felipe

-Number Two-

by Holley Trent

Copyright
Holley
Trent

Published
17
May
2013

All
Rights
Reserved.

Framing
Felipe
is
a
work
of
complete
fiction.
All
characters
appearing
in
this
work
are

fictitious.
Any
resemblance
to
real
persons,
living
or
dead,
is
purely
coincidental.

Cover
images
available
at
123rf.com
(models)
and
stock.xchng
(background
and

magnifying
glass).

WARNING
:
this
story
contains
adult
situations
including
sex
and
strong
language.
It
is
not

intended
for
consumption
by
minors
(age
of
majority
as
specified
by
your
territory
of

residence).

The
slam
made
Sarah
Miller’s
sleep-‐drunk
body
leap
for
cover.
Or
try
to,
anyway.
The

Suburban’s
seatbelt
kept
her
ass
firmly
affixed
to
the
leather
seat.
Her
jerk
had
done

nothing
productive
beyond
driving
her
too-‐tight
ponytail
against
the
headrest,
and
giving

the
seatbelt
strap
an
outlet
to
bruise
her
naked
collarbone.

“Shit.”
Unclenching
her
fists,
she
blinked
until
her
eyes
cleared—until
her
surroundings

presented
in
sharp
focus.
Now
grounded
in
the
present
and
her
safety
assured,
Sarah’s

heart
rate
slowed.

The
last
time
she’d
had
such
a
disorienting
awakening,
she’d
opened
her
eyes
to
find
a

gun
barrel
leveled
at
her
face.
But,
she
wasn’t
in
that
place
anymore.
She
was
in
as
safe
a

place
as
she
could
be.
Her
boss,
Dana,
had
stopped
for
gas
and
now
stood
just
outside

Sarah’s
door
next
to
the
pump.
It
was
her
loud
exit
that
jostled
the
exhausted
investigator

from
a
much-‐needed
nap.

With
a
sigh,
Sarah
massaged
her
sore
neck
and
settled
as
low
on
the
bench
as
she

could,
deciding
to
try
sleep
once
more.
She
rested
her
head
against
the
window
base
and
let

her
eyelids
droop.

Sleep
deprivation
wasn’t
unusual
in
Sarah’s
world.
As
a
young
Marine
deployed

overseas,
she’d
go
days
without
sleeping…not
that
anyone
could
sleep
through
explosions

shaking
the
ground
and
bullets
constantly
whirring
past
their
ears.
Rest
became
a
sort
of

catch
as
catch
can
luxury.
But
then,
her
schedule
hadn’t
been
much
more
conducive
to
rest

in
the
next
job
she’d
held,
either.
She’d
travelled
from
town
to
town
for
weeks
on
end,

delivering
the
same
motivational
speech—the
same
rehearsed
spiel
—to
schoolchildren,

women’s
clubs,
and
morning
news
show
hosts.

She
told
them
all
about
her
leadership.

Her
bravery.

Her
patriotism.

Lies,
mostly.
For
the
most
part,
she’d
done
what
she
had
to
do.
Bravery
had
nothing
to

do
with
it.
In
a
way,
her
role—pulling
that
trigger,
and
setting
up
traps—was
her
calling.
In

her
estimation,
she
didn’t
have
any
choice
but
to
be
a
soldier.

FRAMING FELIPE
–
1
–
Holley Trent

She’d
gone
into
the
Marines
because
she
had
something
to
prove.
That
a
slight,
weak

woman—the
daughter
of
a
delivery
truck
driver
and
hairdresser—could
be
something
no

one
expected.
A
superhero,
she’d
imagined.
That’d
been
her
schoolgirl
fantasy.
She’d

wanted
to
save
the
world—at
least
a
little
corner
of
it—and
maybe
go
to
college
under
the

G.I.
Bill.
She
hadn’t
managed
either.
Coming
home
on
a
stretcher
instead
of
on
her
own
two

feet
had
put
a
damper
in
her
hustle.
Her
priorities
had
changed.

Straddling
the
sharp
blade
between
consciousness
and
delicious
sleep,
she
was
once

more
ripped
free
of
Sandman’s
embrace
when
a
rough
gargling
sound
pulled
her
stare

toward
her
left.
She
growled
out
a
small
grumble
of
annoyance
and
ground
her
teeth.

This
wasn’t
the
first
time
Shrew
and
Company’s
receptionist
and
some-‐time
bartender,

Tamara,
had
jostled
Sarah
from
sleep.
They
always
seemed
to
get
picked
to
bunk
together

on
these
away
missions.

Tam
snoozed
with
her
chin
tipped
forward
to
her
chest
and
her
jaw
dangling
open,

rasping
with
each
exhale.

Sarah
grinned.
That
was
as
sweet
as
Tam
came.
Awake,
she
barked
orders
into
phones

like
a
tiny
blonde
dictator
or
could
otherwise
be
found
slaking
her
exceedingly
high
levels

of
frustration
into
the
punching
bag
hanging
in
the
office’s
back
corridor.

And
it
wasn’t
just
Sarah
and
Tam
sleeping
through
the
trip
to
the
mountains.
Sarah

leaned
to
the
right,
and
caught
sight
of
Astrid
in
the
front
passenger
seat
via
the
side
view

mirror.
Astrid’s
posture
was
erect
and
her
head
held
high,
but
her
slackened
jaw
gave
away

what
her
eyes,
shielded
by
her
favorite
mirrored
sunglasses,
could
not.

“Two
down…one
to
go.”
Sarah
turned
her
torso
as
far
left
as
she
could
manage
and

peered
back
into
the
SUV’s
cramped
third
row.

The
crown
of
Maria’s
head
rested
atop
the
bench
back
so
her
elegant
features
faced
the

ceiling.
Her
chest
rose
and
fell
in
a
slow
cadence,
and
her
lips
moved
soundlessly
in
her

sleep.
That
was
Maria
in
a
nutshell:
always
having
an
answer
for
everything,
even
in
her

sleep.

Sarah
chuffed
and
rested
her
head
against
the
window
once
more.
It’d
been
a
rough

few
weeks
for
them
all,
but
at
least
the
other
four
had
been
in
each
other’s
company.
Sarah

had
been
undercover
for
the
past
month
and
a
half
with
no
one’s
counsel
but
her
own.
She

hadn’t
had
much
choice.
She
had
to
go
deep.

FRAMING FELIPE
–
2
–
Holley Trent

Although
she’d
been
pegged
as
being
“Entirely
Antisocial”
by
that
one
doctor
who’d

signed
off
on
her
SHREW
Study
participation,
the
truth
was,
she
liked
her
girls.

Needed
them.
They
pushed
her
toward
even
keel—away
from
mania.

In
the
past
two
years,
they’d
become
her
unofficial
support
group
and
psychosis
litmus

test.
They
kept
each
other
sane.
Down-‐to-‐Earth.
Civil.

More
or
less.

Sarah
had
been
told
enough
in
recent
memory
she
needed
to
chill
out—to
bring
her

energy
level
down
a
bit—so
she
was
making
a
concerted
effort.
Unwinding
was
tough,

though,
given
her
job
and
her
harried
schedule.
Sometimes,
being
on
the
go
seemed
easier

than
staying
still.
Easier
than
resting
.

She
blew
out
a
cleansing
breath
and
closed
her
eyes.

A
knock
on
the
window
very
near
her
ear
made
her
bolt
upright
once
more.
She

mouthed
to
Dana
at
the
gas
pump,
“What
the
fuck?”
and
although
Dana
was
scowling
into

the
Suburban,
there
was
no
way
she
could
see
Sarah
though
the
window’s
dark
tint.

Dana
crooked
her
index
finger
at
the
window,
beckoning
Sarah.

Sarah,
grumbling
wordlessly,
stabbed
her
seatbelt
release.
Before
her
feet
could
alight

on
the
ground,
Dana
said
in
her
usual
well-‐modulated
alto,
“We’ve
got
a
problem.”

“So
what
else
is
new?”
Sarah
quipped,
her
voice
sounding
thick
and
rough.
She
cleared

her
throat.

Problems
weren’t
unusual
in
their
world.
In
fact,
they
were
the
norm.
Expected.
There

were
always
problems.
People
disappeared,
the
Shrews
went
out
to
find
them.
People

needed
protection;
the
Shrews
were
hired
to
guard
them.
People
needed
a
plan—the

Shrews
gave
them
two
plans.

But,
something
about
the
tone
of
Dana’s
voice—which
rarely
changed
from
its
usual