Return From The Dark Side
Chapter 1: Fuck-up
Caution: This Action/Adventure Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Fa/Fa, Consensual, Romantic, Rape, BiSexual, Heterosexual, Tear Jerker, Oral Sex, Anal Sex, Masturbation, Pregnancy, Voyeurism,
Desc: Action/Adventure Sex Story: Chapter 1: Fuck-up - Henry Ruiz-Costa is an out-of-luck mercenary and hit man. When he rescues Josie Maxwell, he thinks that his life has taken a turn for the better. Yet Josie has her own personal demons. So has beautiful Ellen Winthorp, Henry's childhood sweetheart. Watch their struggles as they bring their lives back on track and find love. Revised 12/2013.
"I could really use you on this job, Cap," Larry said. "You're military; I can rely on you."
"You're full of shit! You don't trust anybody," Henry smiled.
"Granted. Still, I'd feel better with you on board."
"Okay, let me get this straight – we are supposed to grab the woman and make a ransom demand. Then hubby will pay up. We free the woman who will then gratefully sink into his arms. Curtain. That about it?"
"Got it in one. The man loves his wife and wants her to stop the divorce. He's got to love her. He's springing a quarter million for this little charade."
"So, I and that Rico character get to split a hundred fifty grand?"
"Yep, seventy five grand for each of you. Not bad for two week's work."
"So what if hubby isn't going to pay?"
"Are you kidding me? You're one paranoid son of a bitch. The man loves her and wants her back. Why else would he start something like this?"
"So nobody gets hurt?"
"Nobody. Cap, my word on it..."
Cap was short for Captain. Cap was how Henry Ruiz-Costa was known in his world, the world of freelancers, mercenaries, or whatever you wanted to call them. Henry had been a captain in the Royal Marines before he went private. Nobody in the business knew his real name, and he intended to keep it that way.
"And we pick her up, how?"
"At her house. It's a quiet neighbourhood. Professional couples mostly. Nobody's at home during the mornings except Tuesdays, garbage collection day. Mailman does his round later. She brings her daughters to school and comes home again. Every morning. We snatch her and bring her to a hide out. I already found the ideal place. Listen, if you want to know more, you really have to commit yourself first."
This story just did not click, even if he did not know where to put his finger. So far he had never done anything illegal in the US. To start with a kidnapping, even a fake one, was starting with a bang.
Henry knew he shouldn't be skittish. In the last two years, he had gradually sunk lower. From freelance hostage retrieval, to mercenary assignments, and finally to paid hits. Ever since his team had been rubbed out by the Cartels, things had gone downhill.
Now this ex-CIA operative he had met ages ago – okay, four years – was offering him a job. They were to kidnap the wife of a millionaire. She wanted a divorce. He wanted her to realise how much he loved her, by paying the ransom and then coming to free her. It was a harebrained scheme from whatever side Henry looked at it. Still, seventy-five grand would help him along for a while. Hell, he might even be able to assemble a team and be back in business.
"Okay, I'm in," he agreed. "What's next?"
"We'll meet with my other team member, Rico," Larry said handing him a cell phone. "Take this. You know the drill. It's a prepaid account. Only you, me and Rico know the number. I'm on speed dial one, Rico's on two. We'll meet somewhere out of town. I'll call you."
With that, Larry emptied the glass and left leaving Henry to his thoughts.
He did not like Rico one bit. He was taller than Henry's 6'3" by two inches and 260 lb, to Henry's 180. Much of that weight was centred around his waist. The primitive tattoos on his forearms told the knowledgeable that Rico had done time in at least three federal and state pens. He had the personality to go with it. Having survived the prison system repeatedly, he regarded himself as a super gangster.
They were watching the street in front of the target's house. Josephine Maxwell, maiden name 'Butler'. Age 31, blonde, 5'11", 140 lb. A major babe from what they had seen. Not much in the way of chest size, no make up, no fancy clothes. With her divorce pending, she was living on savings and borrowed money. She had even hocked her jewellery. Henry could not find anything wrong with her so far. Her daughters, twins aged thirteen, were regular little angels.
Mrs. Maxwell had left in her minivan fifteen minutes ago, taking her daughters to school. They planned to grab her as soon as she returned. Most people were at work, and the residential street was empty. It was not a garbage collection day, and most houses had the blinds drawn over the windows. A perfect set up.
There she came, the minivan turning into the street one hundred fifty yards away. The men pulled the silicone rubber masks over their faces.
"Ready, Cap?" Larry asked, and Henry just nodded. The minivan turned into the driveway and Larry opened the sliding door. Both men emerged from the big van. On top of the rubber masks, they wore black overalls and baseball caps. Gliding up on both sides of the minivan, Henry yanked the left sliding door open while Larry opened the passenger door. Then the screaming started. Henry had just jumped on the back seat without looking. The girl he sat on screamed with pain and shock. Henry and Larry looked at each other. The damn girls were in the rear seats! Larry decided in a split second.
"You pick the brats, I'll bring the broad."
Though he didn't understand Larry's reasoning, Henry obeyed instantly. With deft movements, he unbuckled the girls. Then he wrapped his right arm around the girl sitting on the right side, lifting her over his legs. He jumped from the other girl's lap, pulling both of them from the car. With his arms around their waists, he carried the struggling girls to the waiting van. Larry had the mother in a secure grip, and marched her to the van, too.
"Freeze! Let the women go! Do it now!" The high-pitched voice pierced his eardrums. He turned toward the voice.
"Don't fucking move! Atlanta PD!"
The voice showed a slight uncertainty now, and Henry grinned with relief. By turning, he had brought one of the girls in his arms into the line of fire, and the cop had just realised the same thing. She could not fire at him. He inched toward the open door of the van.
"Stop it right there, or I'll shoot!"
He didn't bother to answer. She could not shoot because of the girls in his arms, and he didn't want to give her a voice to recognise him by later. Now he was almost at the sliding door when that moron, Rico, showed in the door opening up at the cop with a semi-automatic.
"Take that, Cop Bitch!" he roared while the policewoman was almost lifted off her feet by the impact of the bullets. What a fuck-up! There was Larry, knocking the automatic from Rico's hand.
"What'd you do that for, you idiot? Shooting a cop? Are you fucking crazy?"
Henry shoved the girls inside, and grabbed the First Aid kit that was next to the sliding door. It took him only a few seconds to run to the cop who lay on her back. Carefully, Henry kicked her gun away. Jesus, a six-shooter! Who had given the girl a six-shooter to play with, in a time when even the punk kids carried semis?
He surveyed the damage. She was lucky. She was wearing a vest. He counted at least six entries in her chest that had hopefully been stopped by the Kevlar, but she was bleeding profusely from a wound in the left leg. In fact, Henry could see the blood pumping where an artery had been hit.
Using the woman's belt and her nightstick, he quickly fashioned a tourniquet and the blood flow lessened to just a little seeping. Quickly, he taped the stick to her waist and jumped up. There was no time to lose. Sirens could be heard in the distance. He stepped on a cell phone and nearly fell. Obviously, Larry had searched the woman and the girls and discarded their cells. The van was already starting when Henry jumped through the still open sliding door.
"She alive?" Larry asked, the worry in his voice audible.
"Yup, she wore a vest. Can you believe this? She was packing a six-shooter!"
"Fuck, maybe we'll buy her a real gun when this is done," Larry said.
Meanwhile Rico was driving the van like the madman he was.
"Easy, man!Nobody's following! You're only attracting attention," Larry ordered.
Rico slowed a little. They were there anyway. The old parking deck of a little used commuter train station held only a few cars. Rico stopped the van close to a well-maintained Chevy Caprice station wagon. Larry had taken the jackets of the females and tied them over their heads, blocking their view. They were led from the van and into the back of the Chevy. The girls were forced to lie on top of each other on the floor. A blanket covered them while the woman had to sit in the back next to Henry. His left hand held his gun and he did not have to tell her to be quiet.
"Put your head on my lap, and don't look up!" he ordered.
When she did he took off the hood. He put his right hand on her shoulder to stay her, and he felt her trembling.
"What are you going to do with us? Please, we don't have any money!" she whispered.
Larry answered from the front seat without looking back.
"Your husband has. That should be enough."
"He won't pay! He'll have me killed before he coughs up a single dime. I swear! Can't you let the girls go at least? You have me. Just drop them off. They'll only be a nuisance."
Henry had to admire her. She was thinking logically, trying to get her kids to safety.
"That's a bad neighbourhood here," Larry laughed. "Wouldn't seem nice to drop them off hereabouts. Why'd you bring them back from school anyway?"
"Head lice. One of the kids has head lice and we are supposed to have our kids checked first before we can bring them to school again."
"Fuck!" Larry swore.
She laid her head on his lap with a resigned sigh. Henry gave her shoulder a squeeze and she stiffened. Jesus, he had meant it as encouragement, but of course she could feel everything, with her head separated from his cock only by the thin cloth of the overall and his underpants. He was semi-stiff already. There was nothing he could do about that with her pretty blonde head on his lap. Not wanting to spook her, he shifted her so that her head lay on his thigh instead of his crotch. She relaxed slightly.
Rico was driving at a moderate speed now. Obviously, he was not anxious to attract the attention of the law. The fact that he had shot a police officer had just settled in on him, and the implications were not nice. If they ever caught him he'd be dead meat. He looked at his accomplices suspiciously. If caught, they could both knock a few years off their sentences by ratting him out to the cops.
They were driving the back roads, and avoiding the major traffic arteries where roadblocks would be more likely. With a sigh of relief, Rico turned at the next intersection. Another two hundred yards, and they were home free.
The single storey building in the run-down business development did not look like much. But the loading door in the back allowed them to hide the Chevy. Beneath the building there were, for reasons unknown, two basement levels. Once they had driven the car inside, the woman's head was covered again. Together with the girls, she was led down two flights of concrete stairs into the lower sub-basement. The men had furnished a room Spartanly. A queen size bed, a chair, a table and a reading lamp. The blindfolds were removed. Bewildered, the prisoners looked around until their eyes adjusted.
"Home, sweet home," Larry joked. "Make yourself comfy. We didn't expect the young ladies to join us. We'll get a few more chairs and another bed in here. Lunch will be served in a short while."
Meanwhile, Henry watched the girls closely. They were afraid, sure, but they also watched the men as if to discover the slightest opening. Likewise, the woman tried to get her bearings, trying to see who was who. Henry flinched. That damned idiot Rico had rolled up his shirt sleeves, showing his wonderful collection of jail tattoos to the world. He was sure that each and every one of those tattoos were on file with the police.
Quickly, like a striking panther, Henry was over to the man. Henry shoved him out of the room and slammed the door shut.
"You moron!" he hissed under his breath. "The boss told you to cover those stupid tats, didn't he?"
Rico had got over his surprise. He shoved Henry hard and looked surprised when the tall and sinewy man did not move at all. He blustered.
"You can't shove me around, you're not my boss. And cut that command crap. I've killed people for less!"
Henry smiled at him coolly. Miraculously, a knife appeared in his hand. Rico stood stock still as the fine carbon fibre blade grazed his throat.
"Listen and listen well, my lad. I don't plan to go to jail because you are too stupid to keep your sleeves down. So, if I see you one more time with bare arms, I'll make sure the feds can never find you."
"Ease up, guys," Larry said sharply. "Cap is right. I told you to keep those arms covered. Cap, there's no need to kill him. If he shows his fucking arms to the broads one more time, I'll gut him myself."
"What's the fuzz, Larry?" Rico protested. "The broads are gonna..." he stopped in mid-sentence, seeing the angry glare of Larry.
"Sorry, Boss," he said sheepishly and ambled up the stairs.
"Where did you ever dig up that imbecile, Larry?" Henry asked with disgust.
"Good help is hard to find, my friend."
"You do know about his priors, don't you?"
"It's okay, he beat up a few people and robbed a gas station. What gives?"
Henry shook his head, his trust in Larry's planning waning. Henry had checked Rico on the computer of a public library. Rico was in the state sex offender registry, with one count of rape and one for aggravated assault. A nasty customer.Yet, he and Larry were obviously stuck with him.
"He's in the state sex offender registry. Rape, assault, the works."
"You checked him?"
"It's a public database. I found it in a public library."
"Well shit! We better not let him guard the broads then. The client would not appreciate it. Okay, that makes you their warden. Three meals a day. I have stacked a freezer with frozen stuff. Rico can be the runner. We need a getaway car and we need food and drink. When I'm gone, you're in charge."
Henry smiled coldly. "Better make sure he understands that. I'm not taking any more crap from him."
"Ease up, Cap, for crying out! It's just a few days. Rico will behave. You just make sure he won't get to those broads. If he tries you have my permission to hurt him."
The two men went into the makeshift kitchen where they heated frozen pizza pies in a microwave/grill combination. Rico joined them for lunch, glaring at Henry from time to time. Once finished, Larry laid down the law.
"Rico, your first job is to go to a furniture outlet. Get another queen size frame and a foam mattress. I also want you to keep the freezer stocked."
"He should get fresh food from a take-away once a day. That frozen stuff will get old soon," Henry interjected drawing another glare from Rico.
"What's he doing then?" Rico demanded pointing at Henry.
"Cap will tend our guests," Larry said. "And you will keep out of that room, got that? I know about your priors. Leave the broad and the kids alone."
"So what am I, the fucking delivery boy?"
"You're the gofer," Larry said coolly. "You'll get paid well for it."
"We need some real coffee," Henry said absentmindedly. "That instant shit is no good."
That point was accepted by all of them.
"Try to find two extra cups and plates for those girls," Larry added. "The client wants us to keep them for a week minimum to soften the wife up."
Henry noted the smirk on Rico's face, but he thought nothing of it.