Chapter 5: The Dragon Slayer?

No one paid any attention to the well-dressed woman as she walked through the restricted operations wing. After all, the unescorted visitors pass wouldn’t have let her in if she weren’t allowed there. The sturdily built grey haired woman reached the office of the Director of Special Operations and entered then locked the door behind her.

Joseph Kowalowski looked up from behind his desk. He was a distinguished looking man in his 50’s from a wealthy influential family. Kowalowski was a power-player using this post as a rung towards directorship of one of the big agencies then the presidency itself. Sitting in front of him was a tall heavily built Afro-American in dress uniform, the operational commander, George Mitchell.

“Who are you? How did you get in here?” the Director asked. George, ever alert, was already out of his chair. The woman’s slit skirt fell back as a strong shapely leg kicked out like a thunderbolt cutting through the air towards his head. A veteran of many covert operations, the big muscular man didn’t blink, he just reacted. His hands shot up and caught the woman’s calve stopping the high heeled foot inches from his face, inwardly suppressing the juddering shock of the impact. Whilst holding the nylon sheathed calve, he swept the woman’s other leg from under her with his foot. The fierce looking woman hit the floor and George braced himself to break her knee.

BAM BAM BAM the woman’s free foot blasted into his face, bloodying his lip and rocking his head. The stiletto heel was like pinpoint punches smashing into his skull and tearing up his face. “Bitch!” he spat with a grin. Trying to cut through his daze, George balled his fist and drove his arm down to snap her leg. “Argh!” he cried as the stiletto bit into the nerves on the inside of his elbow numbing his lower arm causing him to drop the shapely leg.

George pulled his gun with his other hand. “Aiiiiieee!” he screamed as the extremely sharp pointed toe of her shoe blasted between his legs with a solid thud. He fell to his knees in exceptional agony; it had felt like she had driven his balls back upside his body. Unable to suppress the dreadful pain in his groin, he saw the well shaped calve swing up to knock the gun out his hand. “You and your guns” she said with a tut. English he recognised the accent as he quickly rolled out of the way of an oncoming kick to the face and out of reach of her deadly legs. Elite Death Squad he guessed as he watched the grim faced woman stand.

“Hello, hello!” click click click. “The phones dead as you soon will be” the dreadful woman said without breaking her penetrating gaze at George as he forced himself to stand. Although in intense pain, the big muscular man wasn’t intimated. “Fuck you bitch” he spat. The pain in his balls was really bad and knew that she could have disembowelled him with that savage kick. It was painful to stand, he needed medical attention. Nothing he could do about that now, he had to deal with the immediate threat first. Sweeping off his jacket, he moved cautiously towards her. “You must be the bitch they call The Dragon. Well I’m George. I know that old story but I don’t need no sword to slay you” he told her. Just as he expects an athletic looking leg clad in blue nylon scythes through the air with deadly precision. “Orrr got you!” he cries as he flings one end of the jacket tangling the lethal leg. With a savage tug, he pulls her close and hammers his balled fist hard into her stomach. “Urrgh” he grunts as his fist shudders to an abrupt halt nearly breaking his fingers. Jeese she’s either wearing armour plating or has abs like a brick wall. George knew his punch could floor the biggest of men, yet it had no effect upon this mature broad.