It was a balmy night; Jon sat in his car listening to the night sounds coming through the open window. Having the window open was a small risk, someone could reach in and attack him, but with it closed he would be unable to hear the sounds of danger. He looked at his watch; it was time for him to patrol the perimeter, so he opened the car door; the interior light didn't come on of course to spoil his night vision for he had turned it off earlier. Standing up he adjusted his weapon belt so his gun sat just right on his right hip; the grass muffled his footsteps as he walked slowly around the path.

What was that, he looked down to see the Walther PPK was in his right hand, he didn't remember drawing it. He stood still listening to the night. Something had made him draw his weapon. Nothing moved, no sounds; he moved slowly off into the scrub walking as quietly as possible; the Walther back in it's holster. After about 100m a slight sound reaches him, he froze, his eyes closed, trying to identify the direction and source. Off to his right, male voices, he crept forward to the edge of a small clearing, the sight before him brought a smile to his lips.

There were four of them, surrounding a girl on the ground, the sounds he had heard was their excited laughter. He couldn't see much of the girl, just a vague girlie outline on the ground, the moon light making her naked torso stand out brightly. He stepped forward and the tableau before him froze.

"Get lost," one of the men shouted, "this is none of your business."

He saw the shape on the ground twist to look in my direction; he felt her large eyes on him like a physical force.

"I'm making it my business," Jon replied, "just walk away and no one gets hurt."

The talker laughed.

"It's four to one man, those aren't good odds," he said then added more forcefully, "so back off."

"I can't do that," Jon replied.

Two dark shapes detached themselves and moved in his direction. Taking on two attackers was easy if you follow the golden rule. 'Take them on one at a time.' As they got nearer, he could make them out more details, young, well built, dressed in jeans; he relaxed preparing himself for the action to come. In their eyes he must have looked an easy target, 5ft 4, slightly built with no visible weapons. They moved closer, moving slightly apart.

"Come on man," said the one on the left, "there's plenty for all of us."

He spread his arms out in front of him as a sign of peace. Just as he finished speaking they both charged the last few feet; it was a good move and should have achieved better results, but for a man who had trained under the best, it was all too obvious. He move fast to his left to reach the speaker first; he stepped outside his wild swing, grabbed his wrist, a quick twist of his arm, and his elbow broke his like a twig. The second attacker couldn't stop himself from running straight on to his foot. Two down in as many seconds, now just two to go. There was a glint of light from across the clearing as a blade was draw.

"Shit! Now man you bleed," a voice said.

Now it could get dangerous, two armed men in the dark, with a sigh of resignation, Jon drew his Walther from its holster, then reaching behind his belt to pull the small stubby cylinder and attach it to the front of the automatic. It was not a full silencer, just a muffler to reduce the sharp sounds of the gunshot. The Walther being a double action weapon, all he had to do was point and pull the trigger. The splat of the bullet passing close by stopped them in their tracks.

"Now I suggest you drop those knives, pick up your colleagues," he pointed at the two still forms in front of him, "and leave."

The two knives made very little sound as they hit the soft earth.

"Ok man we're gone," one said.

Jon backed off enough so they could get to their friends. He looked across the clearing for the girl, but she was gone too. No point staying around now, he thought, back to work, he had a client to protect. Not that he was on his own of course, to do a good job required a team stationed inside and out. He picked up the two fallen knifes, just basic flick types and moved back along the path towards his car. He heard another slight sound off to his right and a movement caught his eye, a dark figure rushed at him. Just in time he pivoted out of line; grabbed a handful of clothes and spun his attacker to the ground. His weight falling on top of his attacker's back exploded all the air out of his lungs. With the Walther back in his hand and pushed hard up against his attacker's neck, his free hand quickly frisked the dark figure. Turning him over, Jon noticed he was only slightly built, but he knew how agile he was. He placed one knee down hard on his hips with his gun still pushed against his neck, his free hand he reached up and pulled down the zipper of his leather jacket, then reached inside to search for hidden weapons. What he found was a pair of large naked breasts; this he was a she. He stood up and backed off slightly.

"Ok sweetheart," he said. "You can get up now."

She had trouble getting to her feet, but he didn't help, just watched her for any sudden moves.

"Who are you?" he asked once she was on her feet.

"Piss off shorty," she said still breathless.

He stepped forward quickly and slapped her across the face, hard enough to knock her down again.

"I asked you a question sweetheart," he said down at her fallen body.

"I'm with them," she nodded back towards the clearing, "you hurt my man you bastard."

"Well I did warned him, it was his decision to stay and fight," he said, "ok sweetheart let go."

In the dim moon light he could get a good look at her for the first time. Very nice, a good bath would go amiss though, pretty face, and he know from personal experience she had good firm set of tits; yes very nice indeed.

"What's your name sweetheart?" he asked.

"Sonya," she replied weakly, still feeling the affects of the slap he had gave her.

"Ok Sonya," he said, "time for you to do your Florence Nightingale bit, now split."

He watched her dark figure disappear into the bush; oh well back to work.

He had just reach his car when he heard a gun shot coming from the house.

"Oh Shit," he said to himself, and ran to the gates.

"Honey, it's me," he shouted, so that he won't get shot by mistake.

Honey was his partner in this business; she was patrolling the gardens. He heard a slight sound from behind me, but as he turned he was hit by a hammer blow to his side of his head, spinning him round, then nothing.

It was still dark, and he had been shot, but by whom; he must have passed out for a few seconds; he felt his holster, but his gun was gone.

"He's got to be around here somewhere," a voice nearby said, "she'll kill us if we don't find him."

He was being hunted, he must have crawled away after being hit; he must hide. He moved but the pain brought a cry to his lips.

"What was that," a voice said.

Oh shit he thought, he must move now. Every inch was pain, 'move' he told myself, move or die. After a lifetime he reached some cover under a bush and rested for a few minutes. It was time to see how badly he was hit. He stuffed his handkerchief into to hole in his side. Gingerly he felt around. The pain told him when he had found the exit wound. He stuffed some dry grass into it to try and stop the bleeding or they wouldn't have to find him, he would die from loss of blood. He carried on looking; it seemed to be the only wound, until his hand reached my head. The pain made him grey out for a while; when the pain dwindled to an acceptable agony, he traced a groove in his scalp. That was a near thing; the pain made him drifted off again.

When he came round he was in bed. Where am I? he thought. He moved to get up but he must have passed out again. When he came round he was not alone; it was those eyes again.

"Where am I?" he asked with a croak.

"Quiet, please don't move or you will open up your wounds again," she walked over to the bed.

"You are at my place," she continued, "I found you, when I came back to see after I heard the shots. They were looking for you."

"Who was?" he asked.

"Three or four men, that's all I know," she said.

"What about my team?" he asked.

She shrugged her shoulders, "I don't know anything about them."

He must find out, they may need my help. He sat up and groaned as the pain hit his; he passed out again.

Next time he awoke he felt a lot better. He was alone except for a large black dog of uncertain pedigree. As he moved to get up a low growl escaped from its throat.

"Be quite Boxer" she said as she entered the room, "you look better, your fever has gone."

"Yes thanks, I feel a lot better; how long have I been here?" he asked.

"Four days now," she said.

"Four days! No wonder he felt so hungry," he smiled up at her, then he thought about his team.

"Any news?" he asked.

"None, we are a bit remote here," she explained, "the nearest town is 10 miles away and the nearest phone is at the gas station 3 miles down the road."

"Have you had any visitors, no well you may soon, what we need is some protection," he said. "Can you go and phone a friend of mine, just give him my name and your address with instructions how to get here, ok."

"Well I don't know I like being on my own you know," she said.

"If we have visitors, we could all be dead," he said.

"Ok, who do I ring?" she agreed.

"Bring a pen and paper and I will write down the number for you," he said.

Later when she had returned from making the call.

"What did he say?" he asked.

"Who is he this Tak?" she replied.

"Well that's a long story, what did he say," he asked.

"He said he will be here tonight," she said.

"Oh good," he laid down with relief, soon we'll be safe.

"So who is he?" she asked again.

"He been my father, teacher and mentor ever since my father died, I was 10 years old at the time," he started, "are you sure you want to hear this?"

"Yes of course I do," she replied, "but first I'll fix you some soup."

He laid down and closed his eyes and slept. When he opened then again he was there.

"Hi son, you seemed to be in the wars," said the slightly built oriental.

"Yes Father, what's the news?" he asked.

"Bad son," he put his hand on Jon's arm, "except for Honey, there're all gone."

"Oh my god," he said, "what happened?"

"No one knows, Honey says she was knocked out and when she came to, the client and all the rest were dead."

"What does Peter say?" he asked, Peter being the attorney who employs him from time to time to protect his clients.

"He is not a happy bunny, that's for sure," Tak said "he don't like losing paying clients, bad for business, but he's glad that you ok, I phoned him after I got the call from Sally."

"Sally, oh so that's her name," he mused.

When he thought of her, all he can see in his mind was those eyes staring at him from across the clearing.

"Yeah Sally," Tak confirmed.

After a short while Jon slept again.

"You did a good job," Tak said to Sally once they were outside, "thank you for saving my son's life."

He bowed deeply.

"That's ok Father," she said using the same term of address to him, "he saved me earlier," she then told him of their encounter in the clearing.

"Yes he sure can fight, even though he has bastardised the gift I gave him," Tak smiled.

They walk as Tak talked about Jon's early life.

"Jon's real father was a small arms instructor in the army. He was killed in a shooting accident. His mother died years before, so he came to live with me, his father and me had been friends since the war," Tak said. "Even at 10, John could field strip any weapon blindfolded and could shoot better than anyone else he knew, courtesy of his father's training. I started to train him in unarmed combat. He was the best I ever trained, fast and athletic, but he was impatient," Tak added with a smile. "Couldn't wait, he had to have the knowledge now. He went elsewhere to learn other techniques. By now" he continued with a thoughtful grin, "he would have be the best in the world. But still, he sure can fight."

"I know," she said, "In the clearing I didn't see him move, he was so quick, and two men were down, it was amazing."

They sat down on the pouch then Tak continued,

"Jon thinks we're in danger, why's that?" he asked.

"He remembers being hunted after he was shot," she said.

"Perhaps he saw or heard something," Tak mused, "well he's safe enough for now."

Next morning Jon felt like getting up, after a long time trying to put some clothes on, he gave up and walked outside in his underwear. Tak was there with Sally showing her some basic moves.

"Got a new student Father," he said.

"Up at last," she said, "you have been asleep for 14 hours, you must be staving."

"Yes I could eat a horse," he replied.

"Ok I'll come and cook you something," she said.

"No you carry on, I'll like to sit here in the sun for a while and watch." He said.

It was some sight too. She was wearing tight jeans and a thin top with no bra underneath, not that she needed one; she was not scrawny thing either. Tak was going thought basic blocks and counters to attacks; she was quick leaner. After an hour, Tak called a halt.

"Go in and cook while Jon and I have a talk," he said.

After Sally had disappeared inside Tak sat next to him.

"Ok son what now?" he asked.

"To be honest father, I don't know," he said, "my first priority is to get well then try and find out what happened. What went wrong? Everything was covered. I had two inside, with Honey in the grounds plus me on the perimeter."

Then after he thought for a while.

"I must talk to Honey, see what she remembers," he said.

"I'll go and ring her later shall I," Tak said.

"No that's alright Father, the trail is cold now," he replied. "A week or two longer won't matter now. No need to bring her up here," he said knowing that Tak doesn't like Honey much, even though she's a stunner.

She had been his partner for five years now. At first he needed a girl for a honey trap, that's how she got her name. But she turned out much better that that, quick with a gun and knife but loves to fight with her long shapely legs. Even now she still enjoys being part of a Honey trap, she still seems to get a kick out of it somehow. After lunch Jon slept again with the reassuring sounds of Tak voice outside.

The next morning he was woke early and made coffee. As he sat drinking it as Tak came in from outside and poured a cup for himself and sat down.

"All clear out there," Tak said.

"Thanks Father," he said, "I think we should move to my place, what do you think."

"Yes as soon as you can travel, but you can't leave Sally here on her own" he replied.

"Yeah right, we will take her with us," he agreed.

"Take me where?" she said, walking into the room.

"We were just thinking of moving to my place," he said, "it will be safer."

"Suppose I don't want to go," she said.

"We're not going to force you," he said, "but I wouldn't like to leave you here alone."

"If you come with us, I can continue with your training," Tak offered.

"What about you?" she looked at Jon, "do you want me to come?"

"Yes of course, it will be safer," he said.

"Is that the only reason," she continued.

Jon looked her buxom figure up and down.

"Yes of course." he said.

She noticed his look and smiled.

"In that case when do we leave?" she giggled.

Two days later he was fit enough to travel the three hours drive. Even so he was exhausted when they arrived, but it was nice to sleep in his own bed again. Next morning he felt better and decided to practice on his shooting range. In the small hut he unwrapped a brand new PPK, slipped in a full magazine and started to shoot. The clang of lead hitting steel targets was like music to his ears. After 20 minutes or so Sally called out and came to the firing line.

"What gun is that?" she asked.

"This is a 9mm Walther PPK," he said. "Designed for the German police force, the initials stand for 'Polizei Pistole Kurz'," he added. "It fires a 9mm short or a 380 inch cartridge, it's a small hard hitting package."

"Can I have a go?" she asked.

"Sure," he replied.

He showed her how to load the magazine and fire the weapon.

"I'm a pretty good shot with my pump action .22 rifle," she said, "have to be if I want fresh meat."

She recorded no hits despite all her efforts.

"I'm not very good at this, I'm I?" she said.

"It take practice," he said, trying to encourage her.

Then out of the blue she got a hit. It was only at 10 yards distance but she was ecstatic. His side started to hurt so he let her carry on. After 10 full magazines she was hitting more than she was missing.

"Very good," he said, "lets stop now and clean up for lunch."

He showed her how to clean the pistol then he replaced it on its hook.

He had a nap in the afternoon; he seemed to tire quickly. When he awoke he went looking for everyone. Sally was working under Tak instruction in the barn; he sat down to watch. She had come on leaps and bounds since last time he seen her practice. She was going through a kata; a series of moves designed to flow smoothly together. Her T-shirt was wet with sweat and plastered to her torso in an eye-catching way. After a while he moved to sit outside in the sun until Tak came out and sat beside his.

"How good is she?" he asked.

"Given time she could be very good," he said after a short think, "she has all the right equipment, quick, flexible and quick to learn. When I was training you I thought you could be the one, you know, the one to beat me," he added with a smile looking straight at him.

"You're telling him that little girl in there, could one day beat you?" he asked incredulously.

"Yes given time and away from your disruptive influences," he added with a smile.

Well he was dumfounded, this slip of a girl could one-day beat the best that has ever been.

"She well most certainly beat you in a few years," he added with a chuckle.

Later on she again joined him on the firing range.

"Tak thinks you could be good," he told her between rounds.

"I don't feel like I'm doing very well at the moment. I saw you that time, I could never do that," she said.

"No that not true," he said, "I saw you this morning at practice, you looked good to me."

"I thought you were just watching my tits wobble," she laughed at him.

"Well, yeah right," he coughed, slightly embarrassed.

He had found for her a leather holster to fit the PPK, to slip on her belt.

"Now draw the gun from its holster ever time you fire at the target, then your muscles will learn," he instructed.

After a few practise draws she decided to move the holster to her left hip, with the butt facing forward. This was a good arrangement that allows for easy access from either hand and when she's wearing a jacket. The clang of lead on steel target echoed around the ranch.

He was recovering quickly now with plenty of sleep and good food inside him. The one problem he had now was Boxer the large dog that Sally had brought with her. This dog didn't like him at all and wouldn't allow him near Sally when he was about; he now felt strong enough to take him on. Dogs like all pack animals have a pecking order, at the moment he thought his was higher and now Jon had to change his mind. He wrapped a wide leather belt around his neck to keep his teeth away from his jugular. He then brief Sally to what he was trying to do; she was concerned for his safety and for Boxer's. As per instructions Sally played her part, sitting still while he attacked her. The dog immediately attacked him, leaping at his throat. His hands found boxer's collar, but he was too big and strong for him to stop him so he had to go with him. He managed to twist in the air to land on top of Boxer's large body, smashing the air from his lungs. He hung on to the struggling dog for some time and then just as soon as he ceased moving, he let him go; Boxer let out a deep growl and leapt again. This time he couldn't get out from underneath him and it was him that landed heavily. Once again he hung on to his collar, while the dogs fangs were only inches from his neck. At last he was again sitting on top and for a second time he let go and waited. Boxer crawled on his belly, closer and closer, growling from deep within, then without any warning he leapt at him again, He twisted out of his path, landing heavily on top, this time he was rewarded by a yelp of pain that escaped the dog's jaws. When he stood up this time the dog stayed down, slowly crawling towards him to licked his boots. Jon bent down and stroked his head, Boxer licked his hand; Jon was now leader of his pack.

Next day Honey arrived, Tak and Sally were strangely absent.

"How are we?" she asked.

"Fine now, thanks, any idea what happened?" he asked.

"No, none, who ever it was knew the layout, took us all out sweet as a nut," she answered.

"Has Peter got any ideas?" he inquired.

"Well yeah," she said, "It appears there was a contract out on our client that had been picked up, he doesn't know whom by yet," she said, "but he's still trying."

"Good when he gets a lead, I'm be waiting," he said, his fingers tracing the grove in his skull.

After Honey left, Tak and Sally suddenly re-appeared.

"So that's Honey," said Sally, "she's got great legs."

"Yeah, and she quick and accurate with her pistol too, almost as good as him," Tak said with a smile.

"How about without her gun, did you train her Father?" she asked Tak.

"No way," my little one, Jon noticed Tak term of endearment, "she's much to pig headed to think I could teach her anything."

"Oh, but she can fight, can't she?" she inquired.

"Oh yes, she's good, but she likes to hurt too much for my liking," continued Tak. "Come on little one, we've got work to do."

Sally smiled at Jon and walked along with Tak to the barn to practice. Later after she had showered she joined him at the firing line. For two hours she practised drawing and firing at the targets until her hands ached.

Tak had both of them working out together, he was attacking while she defended and then counter attacked him. The sweat poured off both of them until Tak called a halt, his sharp tongue lashed at both, pointing out flaws in his attacks and the weakness of her defence; after this, he dismissed us with a wave of his hand.

They both knew it would happen, it was just a question of when. The hot water felt good on his body when the shower door opened.

"Can I share your water?" she said with a shy smile.

"Sure little one," he replied.

Their hands soaped each other, slowly heightening their sexual excitement. His hard cock was standing out so much it made it difficult for them to move about within the small shower cubical.

"Let him do something about that," she said, dropping to her knees and took him in her hot mouth.

"Oh yes, that's lovely," he exclaimed, he grabbed a handful of her hair and pulled her upright.

"Enough of that," he said, lifting her by putting his hands under her shapely rear.

Her legs opened to allow him access and his hardness entered her for the first time. She wrapped her legs around him to stop him pulling out and she kissed him hard on the lips. Their gently movements slowly built up until they were thrashing about under the warm water of the shower. Her orgasm triggered his and they both collapsed.

"Oh my," he said.

"You can say that again," she said smiling at him, "lets get dry and go to bed."

She laid down on his bed, beautifully naked, her legs wide apart with her arms raised to greet him; he fell into those arms and they kissed for hours, his newly hard cock finding its own way to her wet pussy. Her hips thrust forward to engulf him completely. This time it was going to last, they move together as one, slowly, very slowly, no rush, they had to the end of time to complete this act of love. They both knew this was more than just lust, from the first time, in that clearing, when her eyes had bored into his brain. Their hands moved over each other, squeezing, caressing, and luxuriating in the feel of each other's bodies. At last the slow movement increased into a frenzy and he pumped a second load deep into her climaxing body.

His dreams came to him again that night; he was being hunted through the undergrowth, his gun gone and all the time his blood was leaving a clear trail for his hunters to follow; he woke up covered with sweat.

"What is it my love?" Sally asked concerned, his cry's awaking her.

"I'm ok, just a dream," he replied, but the ghost of the images stayed with him. Then he remembered the words one hunter had said that night, it had been at the back of his mind all this time. 'She'll kill us if we don't find him.' Honey, it had to be her, she knew the layout, had the opportunity to take out the rest of the team, and he had called out to her that night to warn her he was there.

"Hello Honey," he said, "introduce us to your new friends," beside her were two rough looking men.

"These," she said, "are just some hired help."

"Are they the same one who were looking for me after you took a shot at me?" he asked, a frown crossed her beautiful face.

"And who's she?" she asked.

"Ah, now this sweet thing is Sally," at the mention of her name Sally stood up even straighter, her fine proud bust showing under her thin top.

Honey stood there, supremely confidant that she could take him, but her two colleges were less so.

"This fine young lady is the nicest thing that ever happened to me," he said carrying on talking, "Tak has been training her for weeks now."

"Oh how is the little man?" Honey interrupted, her contempt for him obvious in her voice.

"He's fine, sends his regards," he replied, "but talking about Sally here, I've have been training her with that pistol she's wearing, and she's very good, good enough to take you."

"What! What weed have you been smoking?" she spat back.

"We'll see," he said with a confident smile.

His voice then turned sharp.

"Why Honey?" he asked.

"Why, for the money of course, and to beat you," she snarled.

"You would kill your friends for money?" he asked.

"Friends, what friends, it was always been between you and me, and I'm better than you are."

"If you say so Honey, I've never had the urge to find out," he said, her pretty face contorted with rage.

"No but you've always thought you were the best, so I think now might be a good time to find out for sure," she said.

"No I don't think so," he said, "I'll let Sally here take you, she's that good."

"What! That big titted bitch couldn't take these two idiots," she said nodding at her two companions.

"We'll see," Jon said with a smile still on his face.

In truth Jon was shaking inside, he was staking his life and the life of his love on Honey's reaction. Honey stared at both of them, not believing what she was hearing. Then it started, Sally hand moved across her front to her pistol on her left hip. He just stood there not moving, keeping the confident smile on his face, but Honey reacted instantly to the threat. The weeks of practice had borne fruit, smoothly Sally's hand moved without conscious thought, her muscles reacting to hundreds of hour of practice. The small pistol came smoothly from its holster, her finger entered the trigger guard and the gun came into line of the honey blonde girl body in front of her.

"Yes!" Honey shouted as her pistol came up into aliment with Jon, then she saw that he had not moved.

"No!" she shouted, as she realised that Sally, not Jon was the threat to her life.

She tried to move the pistol onto a new aliment, but she couldn't stop the hammer falling on to the cartridge. Her bullet past between Sally and Jon, tugging at his coat sleeve as it passed, it was a near thing, missing him by only a fraction. Her pistol slide moved back to reject the spent case and to reload a new round into the chamber. Before Honey could squeeze the trigger again, Sally completed her own draw and it was her finger that tightened on the trigger, once, twice, her bullets thumped into Honey's chest, knocking her backwards. The sound of the shots caused one of Honey's two companions to jerk. Instinctively Jon hand flashed down and his pistol came smoothly from its leather holster and barked twice, he joined Honey on the ground.

"I suggest you get this mess cleaned up, my friend," Jon said to the remaining man, the damp patch on the front of his trousers testified to his fear, "it's over, let's go home my little one"

"Yeah," said Sally softly, "I think I'm going to be sick, but not in front of anybody, ok."