Bikini And A Badge Ch. 09

Brittany straddled Trace’s muscular body, her face displaying a sly grin.

“Let’s go for a ride, Big Boy.” Brittany smarted off.

Holding his cock firmly in her hand, Brittany guided the mushroom shaped head to the entrance of her wanton pussy. Easing herself down onto the hard shaft, she felt the incredible pleasures surge through her body. A soft moan escaped her lips, her eyes barely open. Trace’s hands clenched Brittany’s butt, lifting her up and down on his throbbing cock. Brittany’s body was quickly succumbing to her sexual yearnings. Trace’s huge cock was pounding upwards into her pussy, bringing them both to a quick orgasm.

Trace was moaning loudly as his body bucked upwards, lifting Brittany’s body upwards with each hard stroke. Brittany’s hands gripped his shoulders, trying to steady herself. His cock was plunging in and out of her pussy like a jackhammer. Brittany’s orgasm came on quick and violently. Her body shuddered as the incredible orgasm sent her into another world. Trace’s pounding cock spewed his hot cream into her. Two huge loads filled her pussy. Trace had his legs beneath him, suspending Brittany completely off the bed. Brittany’s scream of pleasure filled the stateroom. Her orgasm continued triggering sensations deep within her body.

Trace’s legs gradually slid downwards, lowering Brittany’s body to the soaked bedsheets. She collapsed on top of him, his cock still impaling her. Both were breathing hard. Brittany could feel Trace’s heartbeat profoundly beating against his chest. She lifted her head from his shoulder, kissing Trace lovingly on the lips.

“Wanna go for another ride?” He quipped.

“No, no.” Brittany muttered, choking out the words. “I’ve had enough.”

The two lovers cuddled, their arms holding onto each other. Brittany’s thoughts about the upcoming mission were erased from her mind. Her concentration was centered solely on Trace.

After sharing a quick shower, Brittany slipped into her black bikini. She helped Trace get dressed before exiting the stateroom. The rest of the team was sitting quietly in the salon.

“You guys ready to go?” Brittany inquired.

“We’ve been ready!” Karen exclaimed. “We’re just waiting for you two to finish fuckin around!”

After topping the fuel tanks off on both boats, the team head out of the marina proceeding on their southeasterly course. The four-day trip was uneventful. The sea remained calm and the weather was cooperative. For the six team members, it felt more like a vacation than work. All but Brittany made light of the dangerous mission that lie ahead of them.

As the boats passed through the strait between the Dominican Republic and Puerto Rico Monday morning, Brittany suggested they stop off at the port city of Ponce. There, they would take on sufficient supplies to last them for the rest of the trip. It would also give them a chance to set foot on dry land and see a few of the sights.

The boats pulled out of the port city late in the afternoon to cover the last five-hundred miles of their long journey. Tuesday afternoon, the cruiser with the Eliminator powerboat following behind, dropped anchor along the north shore of Aruba. The sand dune beach was practically deserted except for a few tourists. The team had two days to relax and prepare for their assault on Carlos Sanchez’s luxury cruiser.

While most of the team enjoyed the beach and the solitude, Brittany spent much of her time with Richard going over the aerial photographs of Westpunt. The seaport town was small and cramped with several two-story buildings at the center of the settlement.

“We’re going to have to keep an eye on the town as well as the docks.” Brittany stated. “Sanchez has probably got friends who’ll come to his aid when the shooting starts.”

“You figured out how we’re going to set up for the assault?” Richard inquired.

“Yeah. Pretty much.” Brittany replied. “I’m putting Jake at a position where he can cover the plane as well as the dirt road leading to the airstrip. The closer the better.”

“I’ll have Karen with her sniper rifle cover the docks, especially Sanchez’s cruiser.” She added. “She’s got to take out anyone who gets near the controls. That boat absolutely can’t leave the docks or we could lose the women for good.”

“What about me?” Richard asked. “You and me together again?”

“Yep. I want you right beside me.” Brittany answered. “You and I working together can cover each other’s backs. Sometimes, I think you’re the only one I can really trust.”

Thursday morning the team’s attitude changed dramatically. Everyone seemed extremely quiet with a heightened sense of worry. Brittany covered the assault plan with everyone for the last time, making sure everyone knew their role.

“We’ve got a slight problem.” Wayne said, entering the salon. “Nothing serious. I got it taken care of.”

“What! What’s the problem?” Brittany asked.

“The Eliminator’s got a fuel line leak on the starboard motor.” Wayne replied. “I tightened it up. It should last till we get to a port where I can get another fuel line.”

“Goddamn it Wayne, you should have checked the boat over thoroughly instead of checking out the fucking cocktail waitresses!” Brittany shouted. “One job to do and you fuck it up!”

“Hey!” Wayne retorted. “I said I fixed it! It’ll be alright!”

“Trace is going to be driving that boat!” Brittany screamed. “And, we’re counting on a safe getaway. If something happens, I swear, I’ll blow your fucking head off!”

The team donned their tan camouflage gear including their bulletproof vests. No one made mention of not wearing the additional protection. Richard helped Jacob strap two Laws Rockets to his backpack. Everyone verified their weapons were loaded and ready.

“Six hours from now you need to take the boat to the north end of the island.” Brittany stated, glaring at Wayne. “Hold up at Lighthouse Beach. Wait twenty-four hours. If we don’t show by then, head towards Jamaica.”

“You want me to wait for you there?” Wayne muttered.

“Yeah, you wait for me there.” Brittany replied, still angry. “Cause I’m gonna come huntin’ for your sorry ass.”

The team got onto the powerboat. Wayne got situated at the helm, bending his leg in pain to sit in the driver’s seat. The two-hour ride didn’t calm Brittany’s anger. None of the team members below deck said much. It was clearly apparent their nervousness was growing. Brittany was having serious doubts about the team’s ability to pull off the rescue but she wasn’t about to abort the mission.

Trace pulled the boat up to the shoreline a mile and a half from the port of Westpunt on the Netherland Antilles island. After securing the boat to several large rocks, the team made their way towards the town. The ground cover was rocky with little vegetation. The team split up advancing to their appointed positions at the top of the hill overlooking the small port town.

Crouching behind the heavy coverage of rocks, Brittany checked out the situation through her binoculars. There were three small fishing boats moored at one of the docks. Brittany could only see a handful of people milling around on the boats. The town looked practically deserted except for a few people sitting on a bench in front of one of the buildings.

“I’ve got a twin engine plane sitting at the end of the runway.” Jake said over his headset microphone. “I see two men, probably the pilots, sitting on the ground underneath the wing.”

“That’s good.” Brittany replied. “That means they’re expecting Carlos to show up.”

“Karen, what’ve you got?” Brittany asked, speaking into her headset microphone.

“I’ve got a clear shot at the docks.” She responded from her position. “I’m ready. Gun’s ready. My baby‘s hot for some action!”

An hour passed then another but no sign of Sanchez. Brittany was worried the boat would be late and they’d have to make the assault in the dark. There weren’t any lights on the dock; every shot taken could endanger the lives of the three women.

“We got a problem.” Trace’s voice came over the headset. The cracking of his voice told Brittany it was serious.

“Trace, what’s the matter?” Brittany asked.

“The fuel line’s leaking fuel into the engine compartment.” Trace said. “I can get it to stop. I tried tightening the fitting but it didn‘t help.”

“FUCK!” Brittany exclaimed. “I knew it. I knew we’d have trouble!”

“Brit! Brit!” Jake’s voice came over the headset. “We’ve got company!”

“What?” Brittany asked.

“There’s two, maybe three guys taking up a position about thirty yards to the south of the plane.” Jake replied.

“DEA?” Brittany questioned.

“Not hardly.” Jake responded. “Looks like a few freelance drug-runners. All they’ve got are handguns.”

“Just what we fucking need!” Brittany said. “More people with guns!”

“Keep an eye on them but don’t let them see you.” Brittany warned. “Let me know if they make a move.”

“Figured out how we’re gonna get off this crappy island?” Richard asked.

“Maybe we should abort the mission.” Karen suggested over her headset microphone.

“No. We’re not aborting.” Brittany retorted. “Not yet anyway.”

“Our transportation off this island should be here shortly.” Brittany added.

“Whatta ya mean?” Karen asked.

“Listen up everyone.” Brittany replied. “Don’t take any shots at Sanchez’s boat. We’re gonna need it to make our escape. Don‘t put any stray bullet holes in it.”

“Trace, you stay put at the boat but don’t turn on anything that might spark a fire.” She added. “We’ll come and get you.”

It was almost dusk when Sanchez’s seventy-foot cruiser appeared on the horizon. Brittany’s adrenalin increased, sending her heart rate into high gear. Looking through her binoculars, she could see the captain and two deck hands clearly visible, but no sign of Carlos or the women. Twenty minutes later, the huge Hatteras luxury cruiser made its approach to the dock.

“Everyone get ready.” Brittany commanded. “Be careful with every shot.”

The cruiser eased up to the rickety docks. Two deck hands jumped onto the structure, securing the boat fore and aft. Another deck hand, carrying an AK47 assault rifle joined the two. He walked up the dock towards the shore, carefully scrutinizing the situation. An old pickup truck came out from behind one of the buildings, kicking up dust as it made its way to the dock.

“Everyone hold your fire till I give the command.” Brittany stated. “Karen, you take the first shot on my command at the target I decide on.

“After that, everyone open fire.” She added. “Just don’t hit any of the women or the damn boat!”

Through her binoculars, Brittany watched the two deckhands unload small bundles onto the dock. Not seeing Sanchez worried her. Maybe he hadn’t made the trip with them but that would have been unusual. Not his normal routine according to his daughter.

“I don’t see anyone but the crew.” Karen whispered over her microphone. “What’s the new plan?”

“We wait.” Brittany immediately responded. “That’s the new plan!”

Two more men appeared from the cabin area of the boat. One of the men was Carlos Sanchez, the other, one of his bodyguards. Sanchez was clean-cut and well dressed. He looked more like a CEO than a drug dealer. Brittany waited till the two stepped up on the dock and proceeded towards the pickup at the end of the pier. She waited patiently till Sanchez and the bodyguard were almost on shore.

“Karen, take out the captain at the helm.” Brittany ordered. “NOW!”

Karen’s aim was perfect. The captain’s head split open like a ripe melon. He fell backwards into the helmsman’s chair. No one even noticed he’d been shot. The .308’s silencer and flash suppressor had concealed the deadly shot.

Brittany and Richard opened fire with their M4-A3 assault rifles. With everyone out in the open, it was a duck-shoot! The three deckhands went down first, like a row of dominos. The two pilots made a mad dash to open the doors on the twin-engine plane. Jake fired off the Laws rocket, scoring a direct hit on the cockpit. The plane exploded into flames, sending debris high into the air. The bright flames aided by the aviation fuel, illuminated the entire scene on the docks below. Brittany expended her first clip, quickly changing it out. Sanchez and his bodyguard ran back towards the boat, crouching low to avoid the hail of bullets. With the three deck hands already killed, they were the only two left alive on the pier.

Karen squeezed off a shot, hitting Carlos Sanchez directly in the head. His body tumbled end over end before falling into the water. His bodyguard kept running, quickly nearing the cruiser. Richard’s rapid fire cut the man down, almost severing his body in two. Shots fired from the vicinity of the pickup truck ricocheted off the rocks in front of Brittany. Jake triggered the second Laws rocket, squarely hitting the vehicle. The truck with its cargo of illegal drugs exploded into flames and rubble. The sounds of gunfire decreased.

“Cease fire!” Brittany shouted. “Cease fire!”

Brittany made a quick scan of the situation, peering through her binoculars. The plane at the end of the runway was still burning, the remnants of its fuselage resting in the dirt. Body parts of the pickup were scattered along the end of the pier, the hood and one fender were floating in the water.

“Any sign of those guys near the plane?” Brittany asked, speaking into the headset microphone.

“Not now!” Jake replied. “They ran like hell when the Laws hit the plane. They’re probably still running.”

“Ok, everyone. Let’s approach the boat cautiously.” Brittany stated. “We still have at least one, maybe two bodyguards unaccounted for.”

Richard and Brittany slowly made their way down the hill towards the docks. Jake was waiting for them at the end of the pier. Karen approached the trio, her sniper rifle slung over her shoulder.

The group looked down the pier at the large cruiser moored at the end. There was only one light illuminating the interior of the cruiser. The whole scene was quite eerie.

“Jake, you stay here and keep an eye out for anyone who might come nosing around.” Brittany ordered. “Richard, you and Karen come with me.”

The trio pulled out their Glock handguns, slowly proceeding down the pier. Brittany glanced down at Carlos Sanchez’s body floating face down in the water as she passed by it. Most of his head was gone, his body drifting in blood. The trio carefully stepped over the bodyguard’s bullet riddled form.

Brittany stepped aboard the cruiser first, motioning Karen to climb the ladder to the top deck to cover her from above. Richard climbed aboard, covering Brittany from behind.

“What’s going on?” Trace’s voice whispered over the headsets.

“Shut up.” Brittany whispered back. “We’re working.”

The salon area of the luxury cruiser was deserted. Crouching low, Brittany and Richard made their way towards the staterooms. Suddenly, a man ran from behind the counter in the galley towards the doorway to the rear deck. Brittany spun around but Richard was between her and the bodyguard, blocking a clear shot. The man ran out onto the deck and started to jump onto the dock when Karen’s handgun cut him down. Firing four quick shots, the man tumbled into the water between the boat and the dock.

Brittany heard muffled voices coming from one of the staterooms. She and Richard approached cautiously, fearing another bodyguard might jump out and surprise them. As they crept down the narrow hallway, Richard carefully checked each room. It appeared there were only two bodyguards that had made the trip. Brittany slowly turned the doorknob on the master stateroom. Standing to one side, she found the light switch and flipped it on. The stateroom’s flush ceiling lights illuminated the bedroom, shedding light on three women cowering in one corner by the bed.

“Please don’t hurt us.” One of the frightened women pleaded.

Brittany and Richard took a deep breath, a sigh of great relief. Brittany carefully approached the terrified women. Holstering her handgun, she made an attempt to comfort them. They were all trembling, not realizing they were being rescued. Richard and Brittany made a thorough check of the boat, searching every room and closet before calling out for Jake to join them.

Once Jake was on the boat, he and Richard tossed the captain’s body overboard into the dark waters. Blood had pooled on the bridge from his massive head wound. While Richard and Jake cleaned up the mess, Karen and Brittany ushered the women into the salon area. The three women, all in their late twenties, appeared to be in good shape. They were dressed in clean clothes and seemed to be well nourished. It took awhile for them to realize what had happened and they would soon be home with their families.

“Let’s get the hell out of here before anyone shows up.” Brittany suggested. I’ll take the helm.”

Richard and Jake untied the boat, then jumped back onboard. Brittany fired up the twin diesel engines, easing the boat away from the dock. It was dark as the boat slipped out into the open sea.

Ten minutes later, Brittany spotted Trace sitting on the front deck of the Eliminator. Turning the powerful spotlights on, she illuminated the boat, slowly approaching it. The rear hatch covering the engine compartments was open.

“Need a ride, handsome stranger?” She shouted, easing the large cruiser alongside the powerboat.

The strong smell of gasoline vapors emanated from the Eliminator’s engine compartment. With Richard’s help, Trace boarded the cruiser. Brittany eased the throttles into reverse, backing away from the disabled catamaran. Spinning the wheel hard to port, she eased the throttles forward pulling a safe distance from the immobilized powerboat.

“Who wants to do the honors?” Brittany inquired, pulling the throttle levers into the idle position.

“Do what honors?” Jake asked.

“We can’t leave the powerboat intact.” She replied. “I’m not towing it back with gasoline all over it. We’ve got to scuttle her.”

“Let me do it!” Karen volunteered, picking up her .308 sniper rifle.

“Hit it near the stern so she’ll catch on fire.” Brittany commanded.

Karen’s shot struck the starboard side of the boat, penetrating the fiberglass composite material. The gasoline ignited, exploding immediately into a huge fire that engulfed the boat within seconds.

Everyone watched for a minute or so as the boat continued to float. The fuel tank exploded, breaking the boat in two. As the rear half of the boat sank below the surface, Brittany eased the throttles forward, heading towards Aruba. The monitor screens for the radar and sonar systems showed clear waters ahead. Brittany eased the throttles forward till the Hatteras yacht reached cruising speed. The capital city of Oranjestad lie approximately two hours ahead.

Trace ascended the interior stairway to the bridge. Approaching Brittany at the helm, he put his arm around her, pulling her to him. The two affectionately kissed, both feeling relieved the ordeal was over. Trace’s strong arms around her felt comforting.

“You want me to take over the helm?” Trace muttered.

“Yeah. I need to get below and see how the women are doing.” Brittany replied. “They’ve been through hell.”

Brittany climbed down the ladder to the rear deck. Karen and Jake were sitting in the salon with the three women, huddled together on the couch. Richard was in the galley fixing coffee and looking for food to snack on.

“Where we going?” One of the women mumbled. She was the only one who really seemed to be calming down.

“We should hit the port city of Oranjestad on the island of Aruba in a couple of hours.” Brittany stated. “There’s a private jet waiting at the airport. It’ll fly you to Miami. We’ll get in contact with your families and let them know you’re safe.”

The women seemed reluctant to believe Brittany. Their reaction to the news wasn’t a surprise. After what they’d been through, they probably found any good news hard to believe. Richard served up coffee and some snack crackers he’d found in the galley. The women gradually settled down, eating some of the snack food and sipping the hot drink.