Mission: Compromised Submissive (4 page)

Like with each prior departure, the entire team had a far
e
well fit for kings and
the one
queen.
Pop had arrived before dawn alone, and now said his goodbyes with the rest.
The only difference this time was the team felt the stab of leaving
their family
more than ever before. Both the team and the people that stayed behind showed emotion that
Pop
hadn’t seen before. Alaina and Bella both held the normal reactio
n, but it was the amount of love
that show
ed
from the others that touched his heart. They had to succeed. There were no other options. For the first time, it wasn’t just the country counting on them. It was their loved ones. “We’ll be back as soon as we can.
Alaina, get those wedding invitations ready. I promise you it will be our sole mission to get you three married off the moment we step foot on home soil. Vince, you better have a cowboy attached at your hip or we are gonna go o
ut and find you one ourselves.” Alaina hugged his neck first, whispering her thanks and giving him well wishes. The team all got their share of affection and had the weeping kids grinning before they finally loaded up into the trucks to head off to the airport. Everyone had f
a
ll
en
silent, gearing up for the war that awaited
them
. With their newest member seated in Hulk’s lap, they were ready to rock this shit.

Four days later, the team finally touched down in Bagram after being stuck first in Russia, then again in Ger
many, only to find another hang—
up they hadn’t anticipated. Their gear had been shipped to another location than where they were heading, setting them behind schedule before they even got started.
Now loaded with Mac taking shotgun, they headed in the opposite direction to grab their gear and top secret equipment before it got intercepted by the people they were going after.

Six hours later, they arrived at the
small Air Force base south
of
Jalalabad close to the Pakistan border. They were trudging in hot territory and needed an in and out as fast as possible.
Once they got through the gates,
they were directed into a make
shift hanger that looked like it had seen better days.

Three air
men walked up and greeted them, wasting no time
loading their crates and bags. Their hosts were overly glad to have the company, having been stuck in the septic of the country for eight months now. The FARP was small, having only small shanties turned into makeshift quarters and bunkers.
With everything accounted for and checked twice, they shook hands and were on their way.

Once they started on their journey, ni
ghtfall had already beg
u
n to creep over the sky. “Gear up, NBGs on. Expect the unexpected, ladies.” Everyone went into motion, readying extra ammo and doubling watch as their convoy crept through the rough terrain.
Slow and steady they made their way through the
docile
land, stopping only to scout out the path and dispose of the IEDs that had so thoughtfully been placed along the yellow brick road of hell. The sky was the darkest of the month, having
only an
eerie
sliver
of a moon snagged in the highest corner of the sky.

“Dude, hand me that Gatorade bottle. I’m about to piss my pants.” Juju, who sat in the back seat of the Humvee
,
asked. Vice tossed it back to him laughing. With Rock behind the wheel and Romeo in the turret, she kept her weapon, and her eyes, pointed out the window. They had been instructed to keep noise silent until they were farther north and out of hot country. Which
meant they all got the full audio of his wiz.

“Damn. You sound like a horse pissin’. Hurry up already. I need to go and don’t get the luxury of using a bottle.” Vice shifted in her seat in
an
attempt to relieve the pain in her stomach.

“It’s because I’m hung like a…”

“Juju
,
shut the fuck up! Have some manners
,
bro
,
” Rock scolded.

“Sorry.” Finally he heaved the bottle out the window. Immediately after, the convoy stopped, and they all went on high alert.

“What’s the hold up?”
Rock radioed to the others.

“
Truck broke down. I want everyone on the ground giving cover. Get the .50 cals hot and ready
,
” Maverick replied.

“Roger that.” Rock, Vice, and Juju stepped out, keeping watch in all directions.

Taking advantage of the small window of time she had, Vice
backed up to the tire and whispered to Rock. “Rock, cover me.”

“Roger.” He covered her area along with his, keeping his NBGs sweeping the area and watching for both of them while she relieved herself.

Vice couldn’t hold it. She knew this wasn’t a good time, but with the others all watching out, she popped a squat and took care of business. Being in the field with these guys for so many years, she didn’t give it a second thought. There was no m
odesty, but only a common courtesy
they all abided by. Just as she finished, the familiar pinging of bullets flying set them all into motion. She yanked up her pants with
one hand and took aim with the other, maneuvering both like a pro. Enemy fire came from all di
rections. Either they were out
numbered, or
their attackers were trying to make them think they were.
To their benefit, the ones who weren’t concealed behind something were an easy take down. Vice dropped four in a matter of seconds, sweeping back and forth waiting for the varm
i
nts to show themselves and give her a target. As the fire eased off, the team formed
only
to break off into groups to
sweep the area
when the sound of vehicles sped toward them and surrounded their convoy. Bodies
piled out
, somehow fitting an almost humo
rous number into the tiny crapped out beaters. Circus clowns held nothing on hodgies with weapons. And, chances were, at least one of them would
be strapped with meet-72-virgin-dudes suicide
vests.

“Fan out and take them all out! Hulk! Smash!” Dom ordered.

“Roger!” Hulk took off in a dead run with Rock covering him to the first Humvee and hopped in the turret. The rest of the platoon
clustered as one unit, dropping the oncomers like flies. When Hulk opened up with the .50 cal, the odds began to even out. Pop was on point with Vice in the back, both exercising their skills with perfection. Little by little the team fought the horde of cockroaches off without injury. What they hadn’t expected was yet another ambush from all sides. The bastards had put thought into this. This wasn’t the first time the platoon had been surrounded and in a tight spot, and wouldn’t be the last. Immediately, Pop and Dom improvised, tossing orders at the others to change up their position. They were trying to drive them back to take cover at the convoy, then use an RPG to take them out effortlessly. That may have been their fall last time, but not this go round. Back to back they moved as one, breaking off into threes to cover each direction. With nightfall on their side, the team had an advantage now.

Dom, Maverick, and Juju moved silently
, taking them out before they knew of their location. Only two of the insurgents got a shot off that came anywhere close to them. Once they had combed the area, they headed back to help the others. “Coming your way, Pop,” Dom called over the radio.

“Roger that
,
” Pop whispered back. Before Dom and the other members could hear, their radios squealed in their ears.
Vice came over, cussing in a slew of screams before it went silent.

“Vice
,
what’s your twenty?” Dom asked in a panic. “I repeat, Vice
,
come in!” Still there was no answer. “Romeo. Whos
e
team is Vice on?”

“She is with me and Hulk. We are about ten meters apart clearing southwards about three hundred yards from the convoy.”

“All units, find her now!” Dom growled.

“Roger!
In route!”
c
ame the response from the others. The team formed a line, viciously hunting their comrade and shooting anything that moved. With the
IR tab they all wore on their
Kevlar
and shoulder patch, there would be no mistaking her from the enemy. The patch would glow under the NBGs, thus giving them her location when they came across her. Seconds turned into minutes as they scouted the area, fanning in all directions. They continued to call for her over the radios but got nothing. Some of the insurgents had beg
u
n to flee, speeding off in unlit vehicles in all directions.

Bud had his eyes peeled, hoping to find she had just lost her earpiece. When he stumbled over something on the ground, he
reached down to investigate. L
ying at his boot was her radio.
“Fuck!
She’s not here!
I found her radio.”

“Roger. On my way. Stay the fuck there
,
” Dom ordered. Stomach bile rose in his throat. There was no way Vice would lose her communication with them. If by some chance in hell something happened, as long as she had her rifle she was fine. He said a silent prayer and ran t
o Bud
with Mac close on his heels
, hoping his gut was wrong
.

“Here. It was at my toe.”

“Okay. We need to search the ground for footprints or tire tracks. If things got hot, she would have moved to an advantage point where she could snipe them out. Stay close.” Dom took her radio and shoved it in his pocket and slowly walked on, looking for any clues that might help.
Mac was a huge help, tracking her path with ease.
A shooter from the left missed him by about three feet, landing a bullet in the dirt next to him. With his temper taking over he rushed him, immobilizing him with a shot to each leg.
Once he went down, Dom disarmed him and held him to the ground. “Where is the soldier?”
h
e asked in Ar
a
bic. The dirty bastard didn’t answer, but instead laughed. “You
motherfucker
! I said where is she!” He kicked him in the ribs, reveling in the crunch sound his boo
ts made. Still, the man cackled like an evil premonition
. “Oh, de
ath is too easy for you. You’
ll tell me where
the fuck
she is one way or another.” He pulled out his Gerber, using the pliers in one hand to tear out the man
’
s front tooth. As he went back for another, the man yelled in pain, thrashing to get free.
Dom gripped the pliers tighter, and tugged on the next one. The man screamed through the blood that pooled in his mouth. His gurgled language was untranslatable. “What!?” Still, the man tried again, putting his arms up in surrender. Dom let his grip slack long enough to hit the radio button. After spitting a mouthful of blood out, the insurgent repeated again more clearly.
“What the fuck did he say?” Dom asked over the radio.

It was Hulk whose voice came back. “
They took her to Allai. There’
s
some sort of
compound t
here.” His voice
sounded like they all felt.

“Bull shit! You’re lying!” Dom let loose
on the
insurgent
and bashed his head over and over with the stock of his gun, taking out his fear and aggression with each blow. Bud ran over and caught him behind the shoulders, holding him still.

“He’s dead, man.”

“Fuck that! She’
s h
ere somewhere. Keep looking!”
Dom insisted.

“He was telling the truth.” Bud handed over
Vice’s M4, knowing her sniper rifle and pistols were still
in the trucks packaged neatly…
for someone to take! “Get troops to the trucks now!” Dom’s face went hard. Even in the thick darkness, Bud knew that hell held no fury to the wrath that was about to be brought. Between Vice’s hot temper and killer instincts and their brutal force, half of the country was about to go down.

“One step ahead of you. Maverick and I are here. We need to move out. Now
,”
Rock
’s answer came through their earpi
e
ce
.

“Copy
,
”
c
ame their responses. Dom didn’t say a word. He simply turned, popped three bullets in the terrorist’s forehead, and walked away. Their mission just got changed.

Dom took off toward Pakistan, knowing they would need to find a way to cross undetected
. Under normal circumstances, h
e would have a file cabinet of ideas and courses for them to take to ensure a perfect
task…
but this was Vice. There was no doubt she couldn’t handle her own, but these fuckers were worse than Russian or German spies. They held no honor. No integrity. So he called a halt thirty miles
from the border and called a meeting.

Vice woke tied, gagged, and with a bag over her head. The last thing she remembered was walking up over a hill and being in the middle of a hornet’s nest.
A bright flash had
gone
off right in front of her fac
e, blinding her through the NBG
s.
She didn’t have time to radio for help, and only got one shot off before something hit her in the back of the head and
her
world went black.

Now,
as
she fought to remember her training to stay alive
, her anger boiled over
.
Okay think.
The cold metal bled through her back and ass. She did a fast inventory of injuries, and found her knee, ribs, and head hurt like a bitch. Figures, the coward
ly
bastards had to beat on an unconscious woman. Too bad they didn’t have the balls to take her awake and unrestrained
—
she’d show them how American women differed from theirs
who
were treated as slaves.
Just the thought of being battered
,
unable to defend herself
,
sent her rage to an all time high. Control. It was the one thing Vice counted on to bring balance in her life, and when someone threatened to take it from her
,
it was the most unforgivable sin. They had no idea who they were fucking with.

The feel of rope cutting into her wrists and ankles was a good sign.
I know I’m in a metal chair. What do I hear? Movement. From the left, and behind me. Two
…
no three people.
They were rattling off in an escalated discussion, giving only a few words
in the foreign language
she knew as clues.
Americans…meeting…
money. Go figure.
The pungent stench
of death and decay wafted in her nose, r
a
ising the remnants of the beef enchilada MRE she had eaten hours before up into her
esophagus
. How many others had been brought here and weren’t lucky enough to escape? Were they all soldiers like her, beaten and tortured for information, or
innocent women and children as well? Even with the hood clouding her sight in darkness, blood red illuminated behind her eyelids.

Focus. De
ep, steady breaths. I can’t lo
se my temper just yet. Think
,
Vice, think.
Next, she tried to estimate her location, or find any clues that might give her an idea of her surroundings.
Motors could be heard passing outside the walls, along with voices and commotion
.
All voices she could pick up on were male, which more than likely meant she wasn’t in a normal village, but instead in a compound.
She tried to keep her head lolled down so
as
not to
let them know she was awake, despite the overwhelming urge to wiggle and move to
get free.
Thankfully, rationality hadn’t evaded her and she succeeded.

Someone walked up beside her and removed the hood. Keeping her eyes closed and as still as possible, she concentrated on regulating her breaths, keeping the rise and fall of
her chest slow and steady. Her teeth clenched while
she waited for the blow, feeling it before the
war
lord had raised his fist. In one hard crunch to the side of her face, Vice opened her eyes and fixed them straight on the attacker in a lethal glare.
He had the same nappy, dirty hair and scraggly beard that fell to mid chest
as every other hodgie did
. He was covered in filth, showing
once again that learning how to shower proved
to be too complex for their bree
d. Learn to fly an airplane or wire enough explosives to take out an entire city, no p
roblem. Lather, rinse, repeat…
incomprehensible. Not even the strongest Axe body products could turn these fuckers into something a dog would get close to, much less a horde of women to chase them.

Now it was time for the fun part. He would rattle off questions that she wouldn’t answer. He would continue using her as a punching bag until he grew tired, then they would leave her. Which was when she would make her grand escape
—
after snapping their necks of course.

After the third fist that smashed against her face, she began to reevaluate the situation. Holding true to her form, she kept her resistance strong, not muttering a single sound despite the brutal bashing. When he seemed to grow bored,
he stopped and grabbed her face between his grungy forefinger and thumb, squeezing hard.
“Who sent you?”
h
e grumbled in broken English through rotten brown teeth. Saliva strung along them, dripping and stringing out of his mouth with each word. She tried to turn away so
as
not to toss her cookies all over him, and forced herself to breathe through her mouth to avoid the gingivitis shit smell of his breath. His grip tightened, bruising the tender flesh of her cheeks. Still, she remained silent.
He didn’t bother asking again. Instead, he kicked her chair over, making her fall frontwards onto the dirt ground. Her knees took most of the jar, but when he shoved his foot against her bound wrists and made her tip over farther to face plant, she felt her nose split and the irony taste of blood flood her mouth. That was about the last straw. The ropes that tied her ankles to the chair slid off the ends easily from her current position, and she rolled, unhooking the rope while flipping to her feet in a total ‘Charlie’s Angels’ fashion. When the ogre charged her
,
she spun, using the chair as leverage to sling her legs up just as he dove down, wrapping her legs around his neck
in her signature move
. Once secured
,
she threw her body si
deways, twisting her legs tight. He fought for air,
momentarily
stunned and rendered at her mercy. Despite the pounding against her legs from his fis
ts
,
she squeezed on
while
she still worked
the ropes on her wrists with the small
knife she kept tucked under
the wrist
band of her top. She got them free just as one of the others came rushing to his aid. Vice swung the small blade just in time, dragging the sharp edge across his cheek. It filleted open like a gutted fish while he screamed like a little bitch. Finally the fucker went slack between her legs and she kicked off, sliding across the room to flip over the back of the chair and land on her feet…face to face with the barrel of an AK47.
Fuck.
This was a waiting game, and time wasn’t on her side.

She was dragged to a tub of water that s
a
t over in the corner. Its murky color and stagnant smell made it hard to tell if it had been used as a toilet, or if this was the reason they didn’t bathe but once every six months. Either way, chances were she would get an up close and personal look if she didn’t act now. Spinning around in their grip, Vice raised her foot just in time to make contact with one of her attacker’s groin, crumbling him to the ground.
It didn’t take long for more to flood in, making the odds stack up against her.
She fought back viciously, using every tactic she could to break free.
There were a couple times she almost had the upper hand, but somehow more assho
les always seemed to appear in
place of the ones she disabled. She fought until five or more got ahold of her and held her motionless. Fuck.
It seems
my SEALs
training is about to be tested. Lord, help me through this.
Vice focused her mind, preparing for what was about to happen. She slowed her heartbeat and steadied her breathing, taking in deep, full breaths. Even while they yelled and wrenched her arms and head around painfully, she remained calm.

The first dunk under the
water seemed to last forever.
Panic threatened to take over when her lungs began to burn, desperate for oxygen. It took all of her willpower to keep from fighting, but she succeeded. Her body went lax, carried by the thoughts of everyone back home who counted on her and her survival through this exact moment. She had three kids who would be heartbroke
n
if Aunt Vice died. Putting Skyler,
Heather
, and Lizzy through any more trauma was un
ac
ceptable. Just as she felt consciousness slipping through her fingers, they pulled her out of the r
a
u
nchy water. “Who sent you!” t
he one holding her by the hair yelled in broken English.

“Fuck you.” He must have studied up on American insults, because her face slammed back down into the tub of muck. This time, he proceeded to dunk her over and over, not giving her a chance to catch a breath between each shove. Little by little she wa
s able to suck in air, helping im
mens
e
ly when she went submerged for another long bout. This time when she was raised, a slam to her jaw caught her off guard. The next dunk leaked into her lungs, drowning her. She had no choice but to fight back.
Using the last bit of strength she had, she kicked and pushed until the metal tub tilted enough she was able to use her body weight to flip it on its side, dumping the water all over the dirt floor. Coughing and sputtering, Vice struggled to get free. The more she fought, the more gorillas joined in on the fight. The rebels yelled their
chants
—
obviously unhappy at her actions. A few extra jabs to her ribs later, she was restrained once again, and forced to wait for their next fun little event.

Back at the ranch, the women fawned over a pimped out Vince who stood before the full length mirror.
Clad in a ridiculously tight pair of jeans and a bright blue button up with pale pearl snaps, a black Stetson sitting atop his head, and black boots, he was a sight for sore eyes. Violet and Alaina let out a few cat calls, whooping it up at the man who stood before them. “Hot damn
,
Vincie! Talk about a devil in blue jeans! Whew
,
if you weren’t gay I would be all over you
,
darlin’!” Violet teased. Alaina smacked him on the ass playfully, pulling her hand back as if the mere contact burnt her palm.

“Eat it up, girls. I am determined to get me a little rodeo action tonight! So, you don’t think it’s too much?” Vince went to remove the hat, only to be stopped by Mrs. Sanders who sauntered in.

“Trust an old woman and keep the hat, boy.
It adds that little bit of mystery and raw edge.” She spun him around in a full circle, taking in the whole view. “Mmm
,
mmm
,
mmm. You look good enough to eat.” The room erupted in laughter.

“Well
,
Mrs. Sanders, look at you getting all frisky. Michael might have a run for his money
,
” Alaina chided. About that time, Bella and Michael walked in from doing afternoon chores.

“Aw now, there’s no harm in lookin’. Even us elders know a hottie when we see one.” Bella bu
r
st out laughing, loving how Mrs. Sanders talked younger than her years at times. She was always a breath of fresh air, and you never knew what to expect. They hadn’t noticed Michael who stood in the doorway until he spoke.

“As long as it’s only lookin’ your doin’ I won’t have to mess up Vince’s pretty face.” Everyone turned to stare, never knowing when he was serious. After a monumental pause, his features drifted into a grin, showing his mature distinguished handsomeness.

“That’s okay, Michael. I’d be too busy checking you out in all of your rustic true cowboy glory.”
Vince
winked playfully at the now blushing older man. When the jokes and giggles died down, Michael spoke up.

“You look nice
,
son. I want you to be careful tonight. These men around here aren’t like those city boys. They can get a bit rough and rowdy. If anything happens, just give me a call and ol’ Betsy and I will be there faster than they can yell ‘Yee haw’.”

“Betsy?”
Vince said confused.

“Betsy is the .12 gage shotgun that sits above the mantle. Ain’t nothin’ she can’t handle. That girl and I have been through many brawls and never been beat.” The corners of his mouth tilted, sparking curiosity in
everyone
as to what ‘brawls’ he had been in where a gun was needed.
He walked over and wrapped his arms around Mrs. Sanders, w
ho turned into a smitten school
girl yet once again. Seeing the two together gave Vince hope
—
somewhere out there was a love like that for him, and with any luck, he would find it tonight.

Vince smiled and thanked him, saving that discussion for a later time. With a final once over, they all wished him luck as he set out on the hunt for a hot cowboy to call his own.