The Hairstylist Hitwoman
Chapter 2

Copyright© 2018 by Tony Sorrentino

Fiction Sex Story: Chapter 2 - Abby was being shifted from the Middle East to the soft belly of European NATO. It was supposed to be an easier assignment but she was beginning to think it was a lot more dangerous than they were telling her.

Caution: This Fiction Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Consensual   Heterosexual   Fiction   Military   War   Safe Sex   Violence  

Chief Warrant Officer Abby Cox used her assigned armory key to unlock the metal box containing her weapons and other assorted tactical gear needed for her specialized type of work for the shadowy Defense Intelligence Agency contractor she worked for in the European sector doing “wet work” of a covert nature and all highly locked in need to know Special Compartments for only a few select individuals that mostly had cover stories for their assignments.

The young Captain signing them out to her was curious but he refrained from asking any questions because he was told to not enter into conversation with the young female Warrant Officer other than that which was necessary to complete the transfer.

Abby checked the inventory quickly missing nothing. She saw that she was short on the flash bangs and adequate ammo for her automatic handgun. They had forgotten to include her back-up silencer but she had a personal one that could do the job just as well.

She had lost track of the bodies the last few years and she hated to admit that she no longer felt any sense of guilt or loss at dropping so many human beings into the void for the next world shamelessly and without any compunctions about moral right or wrong.

Abby had the best training in the world from a former Mossad killer and an American Indian with that blank stare that looked off into the distance and followed orders to the letter no matter how much he hated what he did for the white father in Washington, D.C.

She rather enjoyed her covert work except for the last tour in Iraq when she got shot up and had developed an aversion to the collateral damage her assignment had caused in the crowded building that she was under orders to clear of all terrorists.

She started to make the early morning formations with the Headquarters Battalion that worked out of the four story building on the base with so many different departments that the left hand didn’t know what the right hand was doing.

That meant that she was required to do the exercise and line up for the early morning run every weekday like clockwork keeping the lowest profile possible under the circumstances. Some of the pussy hunting types were definitely interested in the new female but they were reluctant to follow through on their desires because they didn’t know anything about her and all they really knew was that she was an officer and not an enlisted person which might mean trouble if she thought they were being too aggressive in their approach.

Actually, she wouldn’t have minded a little booty call from any of them if they were so inclined and she was willing to put out providing they didn’t make a nuisance of themselves and try to get too close.

Her first assignment was to a town called Livorno which was famous for its fine wines and the widespread influence of the local Communist Party that had its fingers in every pie imaginable. Her target was a local Communist labor leader that was trying to put all the repair sections under Union membership rules which would preclude the American ability to ask for overtime when it was necessary. The man was married to a local girl that was related to one of the Cardinals in Rome and she was supposed to be excluded from any danger if at all possible.

Abby came into the town riding on the connector minibus that was loaded with tourists from mostly the other European members of the European Union blending in with the other tourists just like she was one of them. She wore big black eyeglasses that dominated her facial features and drew attention away from her actual physical characteristics.

The pair of German female students sitting next to her was chattering away talking about the pros and cons of Italian men and what was it about them that made them so romantic toward the foreign visitors to their country. She joined in with them with a phony story about how she managed to get laid inside the Vatican itself behind a statue of some unknown Saint that she didn’t recognize. Her description of the man’s sexual equipment had the girls on the edge of their seats wondering what might be in store for them in this sleepy little town of hard working laborers with little time for the entertainment of the silly visitors.

When they passed what she knew to be her contact point at a local hairdresser establishment, she had them come inside with her with a promise to treat them to a styling session with the local talent. There were three stylists working inside and they seemed annoyed to being interrupted from their morning coffee by the foreign women but business is business and they showed them the books that portrayed the latest styles from Rome that had all the Italian women convinced that shorter was better this spring and that curls were passé in modern circles if you wanted to look chic and up to date. There were a man and two females. The females were obviously a mother-daughter team of stylists and they had opposite points of view on the value of trendy styles. The man hairstylist was a tall dark-skinned twenty-something guy with lots of muscles on his bare arms and a little goatee that made him look a little like a pirate or a devotee of Satan that his smile attempted to disarm without much success.

She allowed the two German girls to select their choice of the females and she sat down in the male hairstylist’s chair and told him, “No bangs please and lose the hair around my ears and make it about one inch shorter all around.”

 
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