ALICE Ch 56

St. Petersburg is probably beautiful.

Alice doesn’t get to know about any of that because stuff in the world means that they can’t openly travel to Russia. The private jets are nice, but all the hustling around from car to car without getting to see anything actually sucks.

It also feels… not great. Like, sure—FUTA is trashy. That’s why people love it. FUTA is open about objectifying the players and bringing the viewer tons of drama and T&A.

This is different.

After a lot of hours in the air and quite a bit on the ground, Alice, Colby, and Glynda enter the Grand Hotel Europe. Alice’s phone tells her that she’s near a notable cathedral, but it’s not like she can go see it. The Russian State Museum, too. She never knew these things existed before her travel app mentioned them, but now she weirdly really wants to see them.

But Glynda’s on a mission and tourism is forbidden.

Irina’s waiting for them in the lobby looking like a princess or duchess or something in a flattering, white pantsuit. She is breathtakingly beautiful, and she greets Glynda and Alice with warmth and these very aristocratic pecks on the cheek.

“Welcome,” she tells them. “A drink? A meal?”

“We’ve very little time,” Glynda says.

Irina seems unbothered. She nods and takes her phone from her clutch. Ten minutes later, they’re climbing into the back of an actual stretch limousine. There, Alice gets to hold a glass of champagne in one hand and Colby’s hand in the other. Colby has been on the verge of a meltdown since they got off the plane; it seems to Alice that Colby pays a little more attention to the news than she does, so the whole Russia thing bothers her. It’s a twenty-minute drive that ends in a warehouse that actually lines up well with Alice’s assumptions about Russia from Hollywood movies. The building is pretty grungy, but it’s full of brand-new stuff. They’ve built a whole garage here, as well as some makeshift living quarters and a very robust workout setup.

It's… very cool. Alice is reminded of superhero hideouts. This is like the Batcave if Batman really liked cars.

Six young women are here. They look like they’re around Alice’s age, and they’re all as tall or taller than she is. Their skin is the soft brown of an expensive cigar wrapper. Their dark hair is worn in ponytails and they’re all in such good shape that all three descriptors apply: jacked, ripped, and cut. And that’s super obvious with what they’re wearing: skintight shorts and black sports bras.

Nobody knows where to look; these towering women, their bulging, rock-hard abs, their cool racing Batcave, or the massive bulges in their shorts. Because they all have one. And, Alice notes with a dry mouth and feeling of inadequacy, they’re all bigger than she is.