NOTE: This work contains material not suitable for persons under the age of eighteen (18) or those of a delicate nature. It contains descriptive scenes of a sexual nature, violence, and depictions of torture. By reading this eBook, you assert that you comply with your local or state laws. This book is purely a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons whether living, deceased, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
The man lay on his back, reaching up to touch the woman as she moved above him. He loved the way she was insatiable. Her body moved over him swiftly as she straddled him; her lust driving her passion. She slid up and down him, consuming him. Throwing her head back, her red hair fell in waves as Mallory's moans of passion escaped her open mouth.
He felt his impending climax building in his balls for the third time that hour. She was sucking the life out of him with her sexual appetite, and he loved it. He could do little now but lie under her and enjoy her sapping his strength. Her breasts danced above him as she rode him as if he were a wild stallion. Holding on for the ride, she controlled him. Something he had resisted when he had first met her, but now he welcomed it. He would never find such a woman again.
As his passion overtook him, he began to climax deep inside her. The feeling overcame him as he thrust himself deep into her. Screaming above him with passion, she sounded almost angry. In fact, Mallory was angry that he had not lasted longer.
She rolled off him and began to dress, preparing to make her departure. She looked at her watch, pleased to note she was still on schedule. While she hated his early completion, it had kept her on her timetable.
"Woman, you're the best fuck I have ever had!" The man was sitting up in bed watching her as she dressed. She turned her head to him smiling as she finished buttoning her blouse. She retrieved her purse from the dresser, reached in and continued to smile at him.
"I have a little something extra for you," she said, as her hand emerged from the purse with an automatic pistol. He looked at her in bewilderment, then sudden understanding.
"Courtesy of the United States Government," Mallory pulled the trigger three times, while the silencer muffled the sound. The first shot hit him between the eyes. The next two bullets hit dead center in his chest. He died without a fight, his defenses down. She'd pulled him in expertly, like a moth to a flame and he never knew what hit him. Pulling a cloth from her bag, she wiped the gun clean before tossing it on the bed. Wiping the headboard and other places she had touched, she removed all fingerprint trace. Finally, Mallory used a bleach wipe on his penis and pubic region. She cleaned under his fingernails, saving what she removed in a small bottle.
In five minutes, she finished the cleanup and left the room. Walking out onto the street of the busy European city, she slipped her sunglasses on and headed for her car. She'd just killed one of the worlds most wanted terrorists. He had died with his pants down before ever sending the plans to his underlings for a new attack. Mallory was climbing in her car, when she noticed a familiar car pulling up to the building. Shit, she thought, I have to get out of here before they find the body! The man waved at her as he walked up to the door entering the house she had just left. Mallory started the baby blue 1974 Trans-Am, pulling away from the curb as fast as she could. Seconds later, the man ran out screaming to his companions who had remained in the car.
"Shit," she yelled, watching the rearview mirror as the man jumped in his car, turning it around to follow her. She was five miles from her extraction point. Gunning the engine, she attempted to put distance between her and her pursuers.
After spending almost three months undercover with this group she had become part of the family. However, this was one family reunion she did not want to attend.
"I don't need this distraction," she muttered. As the pursuing car got closer, a man leaned out of the passenger window, pistol in hand. She tried to dodge out of his way as he began to fire at her car. The bulletproof rear window showed the impacts but remained undamaged. They always do that, yet they cannot hit jack shit when they fire like that, she thought. I don't want to kill you boys. Damn it, don't make me! Mallory returned her attention to the view of the road ahead, "Oh crap!" She exclaimed as she saw children playing on the street up ahead.
She quickly turned onto an old dirt road to avoid the children, as the car followed her. The idiot was still leaning out taking potshots, missing everything he aimed at. That was just as dangerous though, as the bullets flew around her. Gunning the engine, she accelerated away from them, getting out of range. They did not have the horsepower to stay with her, and she put some good distance between them. Reaching behind the driver's seat, she pressed a button that removed a little cover, revealing a familiar tube. Pulling it out quickly, she placed it on the passenger seat.
Slamming on the brakes, she stopped the car, jumped out tube in hand and faced the way she had come. Spreading her legs she shouldered the tube, pressed the button and looked through the sight, waiting. Vineyards lined the dirt road as far as the eye could see. On any other day, this would have been a peaceful place to spend the afternoon, she thought, but not today. The car sped into view over the crest of the hill. She lined him up perfectly in the crosshairs and pressed the lock button.
"Come to momma boys," she said as the car came closer to her. Fully in her sights now, she squeezed the trigger. The mini-stinger raced from the tube just above the ground, covering the distance in less than a second. The small missile exploded on impact hurling the car into the air. The gas tank exploded, tearing the car and occupants apart in an orange and yellow fireball.
"Scratch three more badass terrorists!" Mallory said, throwing the tube into the trunk. She watched the burning heap of charred metal, making sure there were no survivors that needed finishing off. No point being careful only to screw it up now, she knew. Satisfied no one had survived the inferno, Mallory sped off to the rendezvous point.
The big Chinook sat on the ground with its ramp down, waiting for her. A young Naval Officer was standing in the cargo area, nervously checking his watch when Mallory finally appeared and drove quickly up the ramp. She jumped out and several men immediately went about securing her car as she walked up to the officer.
"Mallory D. Rowe, Lt. US Navy Reserve; requesting permission to come aboard, Sir," she saluted the officer.
"Permission granted. I do hope your mission was a successful one. I'm afraid there is no in flight movie today," he said with a slight smile, motioning to her seat.
"My mission was most successful, sir." Looking past him to the men securing her car, she called out, "Hey boys, treat my baby well! She's my pride and joy!" The men all knew that, of course. She had certainly told them enough times. She turned back to the young officer, "so what's the plan Lt?" She questioned him, as they sat in their seats, buckling their seat belts. The blades began rotating as they heard the big twin engines fire up.
"We will be landing on the USS Teddy Roosevelt in three hours. From there, ma'am, you fly on to Washington. I hope you don't mind supersonic," the officer paused.
"Are you kidding me? I love supersonic," Mallory answered with a big smile.
"I am afraid your car will have a different destination," The young officer told her as she shot a glance at him.
"They best treat her right! If they don't ... well, let's just say it wouldn't go too good for them," Mallory told the Lt., who was not sure if she was joking, as she glanced back at the men. They had finished stowing her car and were strapping themselves in. The helicopter lifted off the ground and turned, before making its way out over the ocean. The coast of France, as well as the carnage Mallory had left in her wake, quickly dropped behind. Settling into her seat, Mallory closed her eyes, eager for some sleep. Sweet sleep without fear for her life was a rare occurrence.
"Mallory Dallas Rowe, designation 69A," said the Director as he read her report. His small hands fidgeted with the papers, and as he read, he glanced up occasionally, his bright blue eyes locking onto hers. She felt strangely inadequate under his gaze, as if the director was evaluating her and she was missing the mark. As an agent in the newest intelligence agency in the United States, Mallory Rowe did not like to miss the mark.
The new agency was less than 10 years old, formed secretly after the 9/11 attacks. Special Intelligence Service, or SIS, had authority in both foreign and domestic situations. Unlike the FBI or CIA they had no borders to worry about. They had more latitude than NAS, and there was no Presidential order banning the assassination of foreign leaders.
"My goodness woman, you weren't authorized to kill anyone but Sadden!" He looked up at her quickly as she struck a defensive pose. "Good work! Glad to see you can take initiative," he said, which calmed Mallory down. The Director read the report a second time while Mallory sat in silence wondering why she was even in the director's office. She had only met the Director once in her five years as an agent, and had never been in his office before.
.... There is more of this story ...