“In true American fashion,” I laughed. “Shoot first and ask questions later.”
“This is a search and destroy mission, Becca. I already explained that to you. None of these guys are leaving here alive.”
“What about the innocent housekeepers, gardeners and ground crew? They’re non-combatants,” I pointed out.
“From what we’ve seen, they’ll be holed up in one of the accommodation blocks when the shit hits the fan. We’ll avoid that building. We don’t want to kill innocent people, just those who are an obvious threat. We still have some rules of engagement to follow.”
I agreed with them as Sullivan started to draw a plan of the island in the sand with the end of a stick. The guys were vigilant and kept an eye out for approaching guards, but there was no one around.
Sullivan drew the basic shape of the island and then added the runway, industrial buildings, villa, outbuildings and the marina in a crude arial view.
“Ok, listen in,” he said to all of us. “Becca will be in the main villa overlooking the marina in the master bedroom, here,” he pointed to an area on his make shift map with his stick. “I’ll move your weapons bag from the beach and leave it just outside the master bedroom doors on the ground floor under one of the sun loungers next to the pool. Once you’re done, contact us on channel eighteen and we’ll start our advance.”
“Copy that,” I replied.
“Capitol will be on overwatch with the Barret,” he continued.
“Barret?” I quizzed.
“The Barret fifty-cal sniper rifle,” Capitol butted in. “I’ll be your eyes in the sky and I’ll call out targets to the rest of you as you progress. I can pick off any long-range threats as I see them.”
“Pick off? Cut them in half more like,” laughed Liberty, giving him a high-five. “That things like being shot with a cannon.”
“Amen to that brother,” Capitol high-fived him back.
“The rest of us will advance to the villa, cutting off any possible escape by plane if things go south,” Sullivan continued. “We’ll put up a wall of fire between the house and the runway in case anyone gets any bright ideas about leaving.”
“Lock and load mother fuckers,” Pentagon high-fived Liberty.
It was interesting to see the comparison between the Americans and Tony’s team – The Grey Ghosts. The Americans were still professional, but a little more gung-ho than their British counterparts. I had no doubt that these men were just as skilled, but they seemed to lack the refinement of the Brits.
“You need to keep Sasha safe and then join the rest of us as we assault the villa. You can be our eyes and ears on the inside, taking out anyone who gets in the way, including that man-mountain that turned up yesterday.”
“Wow, thanks for that,” I replied, feeling a little nervous about taking on such a huge guy. “I’ll look forward to taking on a guy five times the size of me.”
“He’ll drop like anyone else if you shoot him in the head,” laughed Pentagon. “But don’t worry, I’m sure my friend Capitol will help you out if he appears in his sights.”
“It’ll be my pleasure,” he smirked.
“What about the marina?” I asked. “It will be the only escape route, once people start running. How can you stop that?”
“We’re hoping to eliminate all tangos before they get any ideas about leaving,” Sullivan said. “But, if anyone does decide to attempt it, we have a truck load of Strela missiles to use up. It would be rude not to use them seeming as we’ve effectively paid for them,” he sniggered. “Karma will kick them in the ass, quite literally.”
Liberty mimed an explosion with his hands, complete with the sound effects, making the others laugh.
“You’ll need to call out your position to us, to prevent any blue-on-blue,” said Capitol. “The last thing we want to do is shoot your sexy ass by mistake. We’ll use our existing call signs to make it less confusing. Sullivan will revert back to Whitehouse.”
“Copy that. Once I get comms, I’ll let you know what’s happening,” I replied.
“Ok. I think we have the basic plan. Let’s go through the contingencies,” said Sullivan.
We always called them ‘what if’ scenarios but the meaning was the same. If things didn’t go according to plan, we needed to have a back up plan so that we could react quickly to any eventuality.
“I guess the main concern is Becca not managing to complete her mission,” said Pentagon. “No offence.”
“None taken. I wouldn’t think very highly of you if you didn’t question everything. All I can tell you is; I’ll do my very best to take him out quietly. The main problem is Maurice. If he gets wind of what’s happening, my chances of survival will rapidly diminish.”
“It’s a risk we’ll have to take. Just remember that your weapons and radio will only be a few metres away, outside the patio doors. If you can get to them, your chances of survival will increase ten-fold, even against a bear like Maurice.”
“If she fails, Hamilton is going to make a run for the boat with Sasha,” explained Liberty, pointing to it on the map. “It’s only a stone’s throw away and if he makes it there with his daughter, they’ll be in the wind. He won’t attempt to get to the plane, because we’ll be blocking his path, but the boats are within easy reach.”
“We’ll just apply the same actions on,” said Sullivan. “We’ll hit the boat with the Strela and then follow up on the jet skis to make sure he’s dead.”
“And what about Sasha?” I hissed. “You can’t just blow her up too.”
Sullivan shrugged.
“I hope it won’t come to that, but we are allowed collateral damage in order to take this guy out. Just make sure you do what you do best and then it won’t matter.”
“Great. No pressure then?” I scowled.
“It is what it is. We have limited resources against at least twenty-five militia. We’ll hit them hard, fast and without mercy. We’ll keep the momentum going and rule the fight, it’s the only way to win.”
“Hooyah,” chanted Liberty and Pentagon at the same time.
We ran through a few more operational concerns and other contingencies such as injuries and evacuation procedures. After about thirty minutes since arriving, we were as ready as we could be for the end game.
“Any questions?” asked Sullivan.
There weren’t any and the men now seemed subdued, thinking about their own individual tasks -myself included.
“Ok then,” said Sullivan. “Becca will start her seduction at twenty-hundred and we’ll be ready and waiting.”
He scrubbed out the map he’d drawn in the sand and I put my clothes back on, much to the guys’ disappointment. I’d cooled down somewhat, but that would soon change after a jog back to the villa.
“In that case, I’ll see you guys later,” I replied. “The mission is a go.”
“Affirmative. Good luck.”
****
Several hours later, my attire was completely different to my running gear. I was dressed in a slinky red dress with matching panties, ready to meet my target for what I hoped was the final time. There is only so much planning and preparation you can do in a situation like this; eventually you just have to throw caution to the wind and believe in yourself. My confidence had been on a steady increase since I’d found out that I was no longer alone on my mission. Knowing that I had back-up always made me feel better and tonight was no exception. I hoped that in a few hours this would all be over and I could get back to Lexa for a thorough debrief. Just the thought of seeing her again made my belly flutter and my panties wet. It seemed like so long ago when I’d last seen her and I couldn’t wait to get back in her arms.
After a final check in the mirror and a deep breath, I made my way slowly through the villa to meet the happy couple, passing the master bedroom along the way. Sasha had arranged for us to meet in the lounge area for champagne, just as I’d suggested. Her perverted father certainly wasn’t going to turn down a night with his new wife and her slutty friend and I was full of nervous energy and horniness as I approached the staging area.
The satin red knickers gently rubbed against my soft skin as I walked. As usual, no expense had been spared on my outfit and I knew that the dress I was wearing must have been worth thousands. I could feel the quality of the fabric and the perfect fit as it hugged my athletic frame, like it had been tailor made just for me. The shoe-lace shoulder straps struggled to support my ample breasts, but only accentuated my form as I walked. The shortness of the dress meant that the bottom of my ass cheeks was showing and I kept having to pull the dress down to stop it from riding up and revealing my Brazilian-cut knickers.
I felt in control.
I felt confident.
I felt slutty.
I felt deadly.
I knew that nothing was going to stop me from completing my mission, but my confidence was knocked a little when I saw Maurice standing at the end of the corridor. He was dressed in black trousers, but he’d removed his jacket. He now wore a white shirt and I could see the comms unit sticking out of his ear on a curly wire.
He watched me all the way to the double doors, never taking his eyes off of me and never changing his sombre expression. His size never ceased to amaze me. It made me wonder how much of his physique was genetic and how much of it was down to hard work or steroids to build himself up. Either way, I hoped I wouldn’t have to face him in a fist-fight.
“Ms Mansfield,” he boomed, using my real name which felt strange. “The Hamiltons are expecting you.”
It sounded weird that he’d opted to call them ‘The Hamiltons’, but I figured that was the correct term now that they were husband and wife, or father and daughter, or whatever this sick charade was. Maurice moved to the side and opened the door to allow me to enter.
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