My Own JLC

by Alistair Acorn

Copyright© 2005 by Alistair Acorn

Fiction Story: A group of mercenaries are recruited to close a terrorist group down and rescue a group of nuns. The group had run havoc killing an capturing locals. It was discovered that the raids weren't political but revenge. This is not an erotic story.

Tags: Rape  

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The four of us were sitting in the small conference room in the Holiday Inn in London, listening to a military representative of a major power's embassy.

We were the final selection for a team picked to eliminate a sore point for that government. They couldn't be seen to be involved, and anyway were not welcome in this particular country where the sore point was.

Seemingly about ten years previous, a small pacific country would not back the them in the UN. So the government of the day decided that they were going to remove this countries government, even though it had been working perfectly well for nearly 100 years. A well-known agency armed and supported a group known as the IFF (Independence Fighting Force) to cause havoc, and turn the people against the government of the country.

The IFF had been a disaster, and failed, but a group of 25-30 of this group was still active. Two months ago, they had raided a community hospital run by nuns, and slaughtered all the patients who could not walk, raping the women patients then mutilating their bodies, even before death. They had taken 6 nuns hostage, plus four young men who worked at the hospital, and disappeared into the jungle. The news of the slaughter and capture of the hostages was given by three children who had escaped.

This act had brought condemnation down on the US department responsible for this outrage. The country in particular has had no luck in bringing their rebels to justice. They will allow no US citizens now to enter their country. So they have recruited us, ex Special Forces personnel at a fee that is unbelievable, to enter that country and find the group. Erase if possible, free the hostages, and destroy any traces of US involvement. It was felt that a small elite body could go where a large group would be easily detected.

Radio contact would be impossible as the agency had supplied this group with hand-held scanners, which would have warned them of any intruders. The IFF knew the lay of the land and so they were fighting on their own turf.

All weapons and equipment that we requested, would be discreetly landed at an isolated spot on the coastline, for us to collect once we entered the country as innocent looking British visitors. The passports we were issued with were in false names, but the visas were genuine enough. We were also given $5000 US travellers cheques each, to meet expenses while on the island. We were ready to fly out via Singapore from Heathrow in two hours.

The four of us had never met, before the briefing we had two days before, so we only addressed ourselves by nicknames. I was 'Jock', the lad from Liverpool was of course called 'Scouse', and 'Geordie' came from Newcastle, 'Snowy' because of his white hair, he had that Nordic look too.

To us ex-serviceman the nicknames were appropriate, and they are names that any soldier would have used, so there was no chance of us ever getting mixed up about false identities.

Two of us were ex-snipers, so the other two were going to be our spotters. Once we found the group, we no doubt would split up, and act as two-member teams. It was the most obvious choice, that I had Geordie as my spotter, as Geordie had a very broad Newcastle accent, that was easy for me to understand, but would have been difficult for the others. Snowy was going to have a bit of difficulty though, because Scouse's accent was quite pronounced and Snowy was from Southampton.

Both Snowy and I had chosen M85's, as our preferred weapons, they were the weapons we were used to. We would also be needing silencers; these rifles were already screw threaded for just this purpose. I will say this for the US, after we told them our needs; they were surprised that we didn't want more. All the requested items would be provided, as well as the subsonic and Styx ammunition we asked, as well as our usual special sniper rounds.

So dressed in gaudy sports shirts, and carrying haversacks we entered the boarding queues at different points, appearing that we didn't know one another. I did see though that we were being watched by one of the US gentlemen who had been at our briefing.

We were well spread out on the plane, and didn't meet again until we were waiting to board our plane for our final destination. We blended in with the other tourists, who seemed to be dressed similar to us, it must be the tourist uniform I thought.

I got placed in the seat next to a very pretty young Canadian woman, and the flight seemed to go very quickly, as we were into a bit of snogging and a quick grope. It was a pity that I wasn't going to be a genuine holiday maker, as I would have been set up easily with this Canadian woman. I suppose I will have to forget about international goodwill with this lass, much to my regret.

We piled into a taxi whose driver was displaying a sign with our names on it. The taxi took us to one of the holiday hotels by the beach, but well out of the main city. It was also noted by all of us that none of the passengers from our flight came to this hotel.

Waiting for us was a Hawaiian gentleman.

"Our mutual friends say everything is in order, and delivery will be made at midnight tonight, at the spot given. I was also to give you this package. By the way that spot is only about a mile east of here, gentlemen. I will leave you now, best of luck." He said and then left.

In the package was an enlarged blow up of a grainy satellite picture of a camp, surrounded by vegetation, showing rough shelters and a piece of open ground in the middle, with smoke rising from three places. There was a time stamp with longitude and latitude positions in the top right corner, of only 5 hours previous.

We studied these pictures, and thought that we saw trenches on the perimeter of the clearing, but then they may be only shadows. Anyway we had a starting point; the rest was up to us. We had 7 hours to get a good meal into us, and get some rest as we had no idea when we will get either for a while. The rooms in the hotel were booked in our names for a month, so we were going to leave all our things we brought with us in them.

Midnight, we were waiting above the high waterline at the designated drop point; out of the night on silenced motors a rubber Gemini craft shoot up the beach, two men unloaded four large plastic bags. Then push their craft back into the water and disappeared into the darkness, until we only saw an occasional spray in their direction. The whole unloading was done in less than thirty seconds.

We ran down to where the bags were placed, and looked for the identification tags, which showed the identity of owner. We carried our individual bags well under the tree line and opened them, stripped ourselves of our civilian holiday clothing, and redressed in our camouflage jungle clothing and high laced rubber soled jungle boots.

All weapons and ammunition checked, all noises eliminated by jumping and listening for your buddy's sound. We then calibrated our watches which were dead on anyway and then checked our GPU's to make sure of our exact positions. All our discarded clothing was but in the bags our equipment came in was buried, or hidden.

A bearing was taken on the last known position of the rebels, and we then advanced as standard infiltration routine in single file towards that position 25 miles inland.

It took us two days to reach an OP (Observation Point) overlooking the site which had been identified from the satellite. There was no movement at all, so we moved in from two different sides taking extreme care to make no sound at all, or damage any vegetation unnecessary, which would show our passage.

We watched the location for almost two hours, from the very perimeter but it was deserted. We entered so if it was being watched we wouldn't be spotted, by donning our Gilly suits and crawling in. It was obvious by our observations that this camp is used quite often, and the signs we saw were indeed trenches.

So to discourage any future occupants, we planted plastic antipersonnel explosives. The type we used looked like a cartridge, which you pushed into the ground leaving the tip just protruding. Once in place, the metal safety clip was removed and it was undetectable by a metal detector. If you stood on it, the hard plastic projectile was shot up your leg or foot or which part of your body you pressed on it. These devices were light, small and easily carried.

Since neither of us had passed any tracks, leading into or out of the camp, the exit points must be on the opposite sides to our entry. The rebels made no pretence of hiding there tracks. I suppose they thought that they were safe within this area, or were becoming careless.

The tracks were quite fresh, and some of the vegetation hadn't even straightened upright so the party was close. We could hear no sounds, and with hostages, who weren't used to jungle fighting, would be making a noise even walking. We knew that they were not in the immediate surround, unless they had left a 'tail end Charlie' to check on their rear.

We followed the trail for four hours, changing point every half-hour. Point is very demanding as you are on constantly on edge, watching both ahead and at the side of you, in an arc of 90 degrees and more aware of coming upon someone immediately in front of you.

In fact we nearly stumbled on to the rebel group. We were following the contours of a hill and as we came round the corner, there was a small clearing about 75 yards away, by a stream and the group looked like they were settling down for a stay.

There perimeter defence was poor, for it would have been advisable to have put someone guarding this point, on higher ground. There was none, so we split up and as Snowy and Scouse crossed the stream and took the higher ground to the left, Geordie and I took the ground to the right.

The leader of the group must have read my mind, as a short time later a young lad, was seen below us scrambling up the slight incline, taking up a position to watch the back track. We kept an eye on him and decided that this was one threat we would have to erase, as we were pinned down while he was there. Meanwhile we watched the group.

We spotted the captives right away; they were in two groups, the six nuns were tied together as one group, and the 4 young men as another. Geordie and I counted 28 rebels that was including the one almost below us. Eight of the rebels were women, and about 10 younger men or boys, it was hard to tell as we were counting bodies, more than judging ages.

The most curious thing, they were binding two saplings together like a St. Andrews cross. The men were taking instructions from a small plump woman, whose green drill trousers seemed too tight for her, and made her look as though she had a huge backside.

The purpose of the cross became obvious, as they dragged an elderly nun to this cross, which was propped against the embankment and tied her to it, spread-eagled. The elderly nun was struggling and throwing her head from side to side. All the rebels in the clearing were watching this spectacle as well as our guard below us.

The little fat woman rebel then lifted the nuns grey habit up over her waist, and put a knife in the gusset of her panties and sliced right through it. The entire group burst into laughter. Then two men were seen grabbing one of the young hostages and dragging him over to the nun, the guard and the woman rebel said something to him and dragged his trousers off. He was pushed towards the stretched out nuns legs, and I could see hesitation in the youth by the way he was acting. The little fat woman rebel put a gun to his head and he started having intercourse with the old nun.

It was pointless putting a shot in any of them as the odds were far too great, but we had to do something.

"That bastard below is more interested in what's going on down there, that I think I can take him out, and that will be one less." Geordie whispered.

I watched him creep down and approach the youth from behind, quickly grabbed him by the chin and head and twisted his head. I thought I heard the crack from here, or it could have been my imagination as I knew what had happened. Geordie the dragged him down the bank a short way and placed his head in the fork of a fallen branch, making it look as if the youth had fallen and broken his neck. He left his rifle by the youth's side and crept back up.

He had only got back up, when someone called out a name, and we saw this person looking almost directly at us. Getting no reply, he started climbing up, until he reached the body of the youth. He shouted back to the clearing in clear English. "Come, Joseph has injured himself."

Half of the group rushed up the hill and congregated around the body of the dead youth.

"Looks like he slipped see the slide marks, and got his neck wedged in the fork of the branch, silly fucker, should have watched where he was going", said another female rebel in the group.

They then carried his body and rifle and went down the hill, but never replaced the lookout.

This diversion at least stopped the entertainment they were having at the elderly nuns expense. They left her still tied up, and dragged the youth with his pants around his ankles back to the other three, and tied him up again.

All the other nuns were watching the elderly nun tied up, and we couldn't hear what was being said.

A loudmouthed rebel rose, and walked towards them and shouted, we heard what he said very clearly. "We're not finished with her yet, so you better shut up, or you'll all be getting the same sooner than you think."

A young woman rebel left the group and made for the position of that which the youth had, but a good bit lower and more facing the pathway.

I used my binoculars to scan the other nuns, three were quite elderly, and the other two were much younger. One looked like Jamie Lee Curtis, same stance, long neck, high proud stance, she wasn't wearing a headdress and she had the same short dark hair. The other was a lot shorter, and rather on the slim side, but her face was contorted with fear, and tears were running down her face.

Loudmouth, then walked up to the elderly nun, dropped his pants and at once started fucking her, when he had finished another took his place and continued abusing the elderly nun.

Someone shouted something, and they cut the nun down and tied her to the others and started to move off.

Then I saw, loudmouth get flung off his feet and his head explode, and a second later the second molester flew backwards also, I heard the two distinct shots. Snowy seems to have had had enough and took the two perpetrators out. The others in the clearing just seemed to vanish.

The woman below us was firing her rifle at the rough direction of Snowy. I lined her head in my scope and shot her in the back of the head. The force was that great that it threw her off the hill, and she landed in the stream below, with the rifle clattering its way down behind her.

We had taken out four, but at what price, they now knew that they were being hunted, and now would be more cautious than ever.

We descended from the hill, and checked the bodies, disposing of the weapons and any armament they had on them. Making them useless, leaving the bodies where they were. We searched the surrounding area and found that they had split up and gone two separate ways. We decided not to split up, and maybe they would lead us back to where they would meet again, as we were sure they would.

For another three days we followed their tracks, and sure enough they were making a wide sweep. Anticipating their movement, we cut across to intercept them. We found their trail; and we estimated they were only an hour at the most ahead of us. Then the trail split and three had swept towards the estimated meeting point, and the others went straight ahead.

At least we knew the trail where they had split, so we carried on with following the larger party. Suddenly in front of us was a deserted village. The five women rebels were standing in front of the four young men captives. The two male companions of the women were standing to the right of them. The little fat one again had her pistol at one of the young youths head.

The whole lot were laughing at the young man's predicament; he had wet his pants no doubt in fear.

 
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