"These games have been testimony to the fact that the world has rested its trust in China. They have been a grand celebration of sport, peace, and friendship." - Liu Qi, Chief of the 2008 Beijing Olympics Organization Committee.

"The reality is that the Chinese government's hosting of the Games has been a catalyst for abuse, leading to massive forced evictions; a surge in the arrest, detention and harassment of critics; repeated violations of media freedom; and increased political repression. Not a single world leader who attended the games or member of the International Olympic Committee seized the opportunity to challenge the Chinese government's behavior in any meaningful way." - Sophie Richardson, Human Rights Watch, on the 2008 Beijing Olympics.

"If this story were true, Ms. Richardson would be incorrect." - AchtungNight, in reply.

London, England. August 2008.

It was a typical late afternoon at Inside Out. The club was about half full and people were still drifting in. Clarke, the enormous Bushman who served the place as chief bouncer, stood near the bar watching the people. Several dozen were on the dance floor that looked like a street with cars in the middle. Dozens more were enjoying drinks or dinner at the bar and the tables nearby. Others were playing pool, air hockey, and video games in the arcade. There was mild traffic between areas, and so far in the day, no trouble had occurred.

Clarke hoped it stayed like that for a while. He wanted to enjoy the center of the club's attention without a hitch until it was over. That center was the big-screen TV in one corner of the bar area and its many smaller cousins above the bar and in the arcade. As they had for the past two and a half weeks, all showed NBC-International's continuing live coverage of the 2008 Beijing Summer Olympic Games.

Great Games this year, Clarke thought. There was so much controversy when they started. People were yelling about the Chinese government and their human rights abuses, debating whether they deserved to host an Olympics. The athletes rose above that and performed well. That includes some patrons of this very establishment. We're all very proud of them. I can hardly wait till four years from now, when the Olympics come to London. We'll get some major business then.

The Beijing Olympics closing ceremonies were on now, and almost over. As the opening ceremonies had been, they were full of cheering crowds and beautiful fireworks. The latter lit up the night sky on the other side of the world with rainbows of every conceivable shade. Clarke smiled as he watched the mayor of Beijing hand the Olympic flag to the visiting mayor of London. After a short speech commemorating the transfer and the dousing of the Olympic flame, a lithe Asian woman in a red and orange dress came on and began going over the Games' highlights. Clarke's smile widened when he saw her.

The reporter was Sun Ren, one of the primary NBC-Asia correspondents who had been covering the Olympics. Ren's appearances had excited many in the club over the past three weeks. Her wide doe-brown eyes, pageboy cut of black hair, and sultry voice made her very attractive. The multiple crystal earrings she wore in each ear added a hint of Goth. Clarke considered her the most beautiful woman at the Games who wasn't an athlete. He glanced over at the bar, knowing his boss would want to see Ren's highlight reel.

Unfortunately, Clarke noticed, the club's manager was all too ready to miss this report. The stocky brown-bearded American was as usual manning the club's bar along with two others, but right now he wasn't serving any guests. Instead, he was on the phone. Clarke walked over and coughed to get his attention. Doug Ramsay nodded, then held up a finger and pointed at the phone.

"Yes," he said into the device. "I know about Isaac. It's been, what, two weeks now? I'm sorry, Erika. He was a great man and I know he was a good friend of yours."

Ah, Clarke thought. It's an international call, and one important to Doug. Okay, man, I hope she's worth you missing the Games.

Doug paused, listening to the other end of the phone conversation. "No," he said. "I couldn't make it to the memorial services either. We had a tribute night to Isaac and Bernie Mac here, though. We did it last weekend. It was very fitting. We played Isaac's music and showed a lot of Bernie's funniest clips. I wish you could have been here. Yeah, I have a busy life also." The club boss sighed. "It has been a long time since we last saw each other. I miss you too."

Clarke tuned out the conversation and turned back to the television. Doug is way too close to that girl, he thought. The way he'd tell it, she's just another celebrity who put her autographed picture over his bar. She's just one of dozens of famous good-looking women who come here and enjoy this place whenever they're in town. She's just a good friend of his, and no more. Yeah, Doug, you keep telling yourself that. You won't ever catch me going moony over some famous patron of ours, though. I keep my head where it belongs.

He grinned as images of one of the few famous women that might make him change his mind about that came on the TV. Sanya Richards, who this year had led her US Olympics track team to place gold in the 4x400 meter women's relay and also placed bronze in the individual women's 400 meter dash. She hadn't done as well in the 2008 Olympics as people thought she would at first, but Clarke still considered the curvy Caribbean-American his favorite Olympic heroine. She was the fastest woman on the United States Olympic Team, and a real looker too.

Sanya had never been to Inside Out, and Clarke hoped she would come someday. Maybe when the Games come to London four years from now, he thought. Of course, I'll never have a chance with her by then. She'll be married to that football player she loves, and unless they're one of the many open couples who come here ... He let his thoughts trail off as the TV image changed to a recap of the other American medals, including Michael Phelps's record eight golds.

"Are you watching the Olympics?" Doug asked Erika. "The closing ceremonies are on. These Games have been awesome. Phelps got eight golds. Cat pitched that no-hitter. The US won at women's soccer, men's volleyball, and the decathlon too. Then there were all those fast Jamaicans, and the Chinese got all those golds. So many records were set and broken. It's been beautiful, just beautiful."

Clarke nodded in agreement as the highlight reel came to an end.

"And there you have it," the reporter Ren said when she came back on. "Those were the highlights of the 2008 Beijing Summer Olympic Games. And now, for a commentary on the Chinese government's attitude towards the athletes, we go to—"

She paused and touched her headset. "What? Oh my! Viewers, we have a special live report. An extraordinary and very controversial event is taking place right now in Beijing's Tianmen Square as these ceremonies draw to a close. Viewers with small children may want to ask them to step away from the television. We go now to our live news chopper."

Clarke froze as a new image came on the screen. An overhead view of seven people dressed in black fencing masks and nothing else. The group was running south across Beijing's famous Tianmen Square, having just entered the north gate. Two were males and five females. Two of the females were black and the rest of the runners were white. Clarke watched the cameras around the square show the group from various angles. From their finely toned physiques and the tattoos of interlocked rings most of them had on their bodies, it was evident they were Olympic athletes.

Crowds of Chinese citizens stood around them, having cleared an impromptu lane for the streakers once they appeared. All the cameras in the area had a good view of the group, and TV computer geeks had quickly placed bars of static over intimate body parts so their streaking could be shown live. Ren continued commenting on the runners, speculating if their appearance was a protest directed at the Chinese government, or maybe a stunt for International Nude Day. She discounted the latter speculation once she remembered that International Nude Day was last month.

Shit, Clarke thought as he stared at the athletes. Who is doing this? The Chinese government is gonna bust their ass! Those masks are hiding their identities, but for how long? Goddamn stupid fools!

Doug had also noticed the group. "Oh dear," he said into the phone. "Erika, I'll have to call you back. Turn on the Olympics. At least one mutual friend of ours is putting themselves in serious trouble. Yes, I'm going to do something to help her, if I can. I hope I can." He paused and listened. "Thanks. I'll talk to you later." He hung up the phone and looked at Clarke. Inside Out's manager pointed at the tallest of the female athletes on the TV. "Please tell me that's not who I think it is."

"It's her, Doug," Clarke confirmed. The woman was an infrequent patron of Inside Out and Doug's favorite athlete. Like Erika Christensen, she was a woman about whom Clarke believed his boss was a bit too wild. Like Doug, he had easily recognized her from her height, tanned curves, and tight ass.

"Damn it!" Doug cursed. "Cat, what are you doing?" He picked up the phone again and started to dial. Clarke sighed and turned back to watching the TV along with the now jeering and cheering club crowd.

Beijing, China. Same Time.

Cat Osterman couldn't believe what she was doing either. Heather dared me, she reminded herself. This was all Heather's idea. But then again, who's the more foolish? Is it the fool or the one who follows the fool? Oh well, she thought with a shrug, if I'm a fool, at least I'm in good company.

Six of the best athletes in the 2008 Beijing Summer Olympics were beside her, all record-setters and medalists. United States women's soccer defender Heather Mitts was on Cat's right, and so were Australia's fastest swimmers Eamon Sullivan and Stephanie Rice. On her left was short slim Jamaican runner Shelly Ann Fraser, and just ahead of her was the Games' biggest star, ace US swimmer Michael Phelps. Leading the group was her fellow University of Texas at Austin alumnus and longtime friend, US runner Sanya Richards.

Cat herself was one of the most highly decorated pitchers in US women's softball. They were streaking together through Beijing's Tianmen Square to the shocked silence of an enormous crowd thousands strong, and millions more on worldwide television. All of them wore black fencing masks to hide their faces, but were otherwise as naked as the day they were born.

What made us do this? Cat asked herself yet again. Was it the stress of the Games? Did we not get enough attention with our athletic performance?

Maybe it was sexual frustration. For some reason no one could pin down, Beijing was a buzz kill for the usually high libidos sported by Olympic athletes. Reporters had noted that the Beijing Olympians had requested far fewer birth control devices than those at previous Games, even though the International Olympic Committee freely provided them. Many among the press guessed that the athletes were not finding themselves as inclined to use birth control.

I know I haven't gotten as much sex at these Games as I did in Athens, Cat thought, and, I assume, neither have any of my six running mates. Except maybe Shelly, who's new to the Olympics this year? She's gotten a lot of sexual action in the past few weeks from athletes eager to introduce her to that aspect of the Games, including Sanya and myself.

"Free Tibet!" Heather bellowed at the crowd just then.

Oh yeah, Cat thought with a roll of her eyes, this is also a political stunt. That's what Heather originally proposed it as.

She recalled how two nights ago Heather had shared the idea with their Olympic swingers group. The Chinese government and the International Olympic Committee (IOC) had asked all Olympic athletes not to make any political statements while at the Games. This had frustrated many among the athletes who cared deeply about human rights and felt that the Chinese government did not.

To counter their frustration, Heather had proposed that she and several others do something at the Games' conclusion that would be both shocking and anonymous. Running through Tianmen Square with nothing but Olympic fencers' masks on while screaming political mantras had been her chosen display. The ultimate Olympic political stunt, she'd called it. No one had done anything like it in over two thousand years.

Michael had laughed at the idea and volunteered to run with Heather. Sanya had been very eager to participate, too. It would be very brave, she said, and very foolish. If they got caught, it would probably mean the loss of their medals, deportation, and maybe even time in a Chinese jail.

"Well, we better make sure we don't get caught then," Heather had said with a throaty chuckle. "Or if we do, we better make sure it's worth all of that."

"It won't be!" Cat's fellow softball pitcher Jennie Finch had insisted. Another member of their group, Heather's teammate Catherine "Cat Two" Whitehill, had agreed. She had called the stunt something even a group of saints would be insane to try.

The group had discussed the stunt for several hours. Cat soon knew there would be no talking Heather out of the idea, even though she found herself concurring with Jennie and Cat Two. Sanya was also adamant about going. She'd had some disappointments in the Games; thus during their remaining time in Beijing she wanted to do at least one more thing that was sure to be brave and inspiring, even if few ever knew she had done it. Michael insisted that he would run also, saying that he was sure the stunt would get major attention for human rights worldwide.

Seeing their determination, Cat had changed her mind. It was her final Olympics, she'd said at the time. Softball wasn't part of the next Games, and she wanted to do at least one incredibly daring thing to close out her experience as an international player.

Cat Two and Jennie were shocked when Cat said that. The latter at once redoubled her efforts to convince them not to run. This sparked Shelly and Stephanie to both declare that they would also participate in the stunt to stand by their friends. Eamon was last to step up, saying he would not let his former steady girlfriend, Stephanie, do the stunt without him running beside her. Outnumbered by the opposition, Cat Two and Jennie backed down.

"I guess you're all really going to do this," Cat Two had said. "I'll pray for you." The others in their group said they would pray too, as none was willing to take further risks. Except for Jennie, who insisted on being the group's getaway driver, and foil fencer Erinn Smart, who procured their masks.

The group had rested and prepared for the run, taking into account that Tianmen Square was almost 900 meters long and 500 wide. It would also be very crowded with Olympic spectators during the ceremonies, and the group would have to maintain a pace that allowed them to both be seen and outdistance any pursuit. They had practiced on the Beijing Stadium track, although they had been clothed at the time. Fear of police patrols and security cameras had kept them out of the square until the actual day. Heather, Michael, and Sanya had drawn up a plan for the stunt and their escape afterwards, and the others had given it some input. Excitement had run high, and only that morning had the group entertained second thoughts. However, they put all those aside.

Now here we are doing the actual run, Cat thought. We ran into the square, past a few opportunistic reporters, and now the world sees us. She wondered if anyone else was wishing they'd let themselves be talked out of the stunt. If they had, all these people wouldn't be getting an eyeful of her tall and lanky nude body right now. Or Sanya and Shelly's hard dark bodies, the swimmers' lean ones, and Heather's pale curvy form.

All of them had shaved off their body hair, and the square's lights gleamed off their bare flesh. The women's breasts and men's penises were shaking in the cold wind. If almost two decades of changing in locker rooms and being an international celebrity hadn't long ago eroded Cat's modesty, she knew she would be embarrassed as hell.

At least the crowd isn't jeering at us that much, she noted. I hear a few shouts, but they sound more like cheers than catcalls. Most of the people are quiet. They're just staring, or looking away and trying not to make a big deal of it. Perhaps the TV viewers around the world are jeering at us, but I'm not hearing that here. Thank goodness.

Come on, Cat told herself. I should be feeling good about this. Exposing myself excites me, most of the time. Yes, I usually just do it with people I know are my friends. Yes, this is crazy. Still, if you're doing it, you might as well love it. She raised her arms above her head and screamed.

Caught up in the heat of the moment, Cat began shouting slogans along with Heather. The other athletes soon joined in. Stephanie gave an upraised middle finger to a gigantic picture of Chairman Mao they were running past. Heather did the same and yelled, "Quit endorsing genocide!" The legendary Communist's expression did not change.

"Give freedom to the Chinese people!" Heather shouted at a group of shocked-looking men in government uniforms. "Stop killing their babies! Let your press speak the truth! Free all political prisoners! No more torture! No more!"

She shook her head and ran on, occasionally yelling another slogan when she found the breath. The others followed her lead, and soon random people in the crowd had picked up the chant. Their message passed on, the athletes turned their focus back to completing the run. Only Heather continued shouting every now and then. "Free Tibet!" she cried. "Let Taiwan have independence! All Chinese deserve equal human rights!"

"Hey!" Michael cautioned Heather. "Save some of that energy for running, okay?" The American star was breathing heavily, sweat dripping off his body and soaking his mask.

Cat and the others were sweating, too. We're all used to running, she thought, but not on concrete. We're not used to running naked either. I know in the original Olympics the athletes performed nude, but in modern enlightened times we get uniforms. I think, after this, I prefer it that way. Yes, I'm wet right now, and my nipples are hard, but that's more the local temperature than it is the situation. I've seen everyone around me naked before, and they've seen me. I've had Michael's cock. I know it gets much bigger than it is now when he's turned on. Eamon's is the same. Not even five good-looking naked women can get them hard right now. They're too worried about our current situation. They can't believe we're doing this and neither can I.

"One can only imagine who these athletes are," NBC reporter Sun Ren was saying over the loudspeakers positioned around the square, "and what they are feeling at this moment. They seem to have no fear, or indeed any emotion other than courage and enthusiasm. They are crossing Tianmen Square from north to south, along a path that the crowds have opened. Athletes used the same path to reach the Beijing Olympic Stadium just a few hours ago during the closing ceremonies. Currently, the streakers are about halfway across the square."

Will we make it all the way? Cat wondered. Will we even get out of this alive? The last time an event this shocking happened in Tianmen Square was about twenty years ago. China's young democrats rioted against the government, and several hundred people were killed. I remember watching the news reports when I was a child. God, why did I agree to do this? I assured Cat Two, Jennie, and the others who told us we were crazy that we'd come back alive.

Heather said no one would ever know it was us who did this. "We'll all be out of Beijing by the day after tomorrow," she had said, "and it will be good to be gone." Sanya had added that she believed the Chinese government wouldn't even seriously investigate the incident. I hope you're right, Cat thought, breathing heavily. I really hope you're right.

"Okay," Ren said, still using the Olympics' official language of English despite the fact that many of the people in the square probably didn't speak it. "I have just been handed a statement to read by NBC's Chinese government liaison. The People's Republic of China officially condemns the seven streaking athletes and calls their display 'the height of indecency.' The athletes are instructed to stop running and give themselves up for arrest."

"No way!" Heather replied at high volume. Shelly and Stephanie shared her determination and echoed the cry. Cat kept her mouth shut, as did Eamon, Sanya, and Michael. They all kept running, though, knowing they had to get to their escape route very quickly now.

"If the athletes give themselves up," Ren continued reading the statement, "they will be escorted into a military car that is now moving to keep pace with them. They will be returned to the Olympic Village, and given clothing with which to cover themselves. They will not be required to reveal their identities, as the Chinese government desires a peaceful end to the Olympic Games.

"In accordance with that desire, all television networks have been asked to cease coverage of the streaking as of now. NBC is complying with this demand. All in Tianmen Square, the Chinese government asks that you please turn your attention away from the streaking athletes and back towards the giant display screen on the west wall of the Great Hall of the People. We are rebroadcasting the Olympics highlight reel which we showed a few minutes ago."

The NBC helicopter moved away from the athletes, and so did nearly all of the news cameras in the surrounding area. The crowd, however, for the most part did not follow their government's request. Their eyes remained on Cat and her fellow runners.

Their voices were silent except for the occasional cry of a slogan Heather had earlier voiced.

Cat checked the GPS odometer strapped around her right wrist. We're about three quarters of the way across the square, she noted, and we've been running almost ten minutes. The government responded to this stunt pretty quickly. They must have had a contingency plan in case someone started a protest tonight. I know we could be doing a better pace than this. It's time to start.

She grimaced under her mask and looked at her comrades. All were panting heavily and looking warily around. Eamon was stumbling a bit, the many injuries he had sustained throughout his career catching up with him.

Stephanie stopped beside her ex-boyfriend and supported him, telling him with her eyes that they were going to be fine. Eamon nodded and waved her away. Some of the crowd was yelling at them now. Cat also called out to the pair and urged them to come on. She could see a blue Humvee approaching from the east. A stoic-faced Chinese People's Liberation Army soldier in a white helmet was behind the wheel, and people were quickly stepping out of the vehicle's path.

"We have to go, guys!" Sanya said, waving at Eamon and Stephanie. She was stumbling too, one hand massaging her right hamstring. Then Sanya clenched her fists and ran on. The Australian pair, inspired by this display of persistence, also resumed their run.

Cat quickened her pace as well, with Heather just behind her and Michael and Shelly at her sides. She glanced back at the Humvee. It was being slowed by the crowd, but catching up to them. She looked around and saw several more Chinese soldiers and policemen in the crowd, but none stood in the athletes' way. Apparently, nobody wanted to be the one who told them to stop.

"You think we'll make it to Qianmen Gate?" Sanya asked Cat, falling back beside her friend. The south gate of the square was where Jennie was supposed to meet them with a van.

Cat shook her head. "They probably have it blocked off by now. Plan B?"

"Yeah," Sanya agreed, looking ahead to a police roadblock that was being set up near Qianmen Gate to stop them. She knew from one glance they would not be able to pass it. "Plan B, everyone!" the American runner shouted. As one, the group turned right into the crowd. People gasped and scrambled to clear a lane.

"Damn!" Michael said to Cat as they separated to weave around an old lady. "You think they'll keep their promise not to identify us?"

"Do you want to find out?" Cat asked him. The other athlete shook his head.

"This is so exciting," Shelly declared. "I thought my hundred meter was good, but this—"

"Can we discuss it after we get out of here alive?" Sanya asked Shelly. The Jamaican runner nodded in apology and increased her pace.

"Get out of our way!" Heather shouted at the crowd. "Get out of our way, please! Excuse us!" Eamon repeated the requests in Mandarin and Stephanie in Cantonese. Hundreds of people were quick to comply. Others standing in the crowd continued to cheer on the athletes. Cat noticed several young people were holding up I-Pods and radios with theme music from the film "Run Lola Run" playing loud.

"Attention, streaking athletes!" a high-pitched voice called out to them. Cat looked over her shoulder and saw it was coming from the Humvee's loudspeaker. "This is Colonel Sima Yi of the People's Liberation Army! I order you to stop at once and surrender! We promise to go easy on you! You will be returned to the Olympic Village unidentified and unharmed!"

"I think they're as shocked we're doing this as we are," Eamon said.

Stephanie nodded in agreement. Of all the athletes, she looked the most composed. She's casting her mind back to those racy underwear ads she and Eamon did back when they were dating, Cat thought. Or maybe that "For Him Magazine" shoot she did. Heather's also done one of those. The magazine asked me too, but I turned them down. I wonder if any magazine will want to take pictures of us again if they find out we did this.