Mack

Story Info
Action drama surrounding an injured soul.
11.8k words
4.37
17.5k
1
Share this Story

Font Size

Default Font Size

Font Spacing

Default Font Spacing

Font Face

Default Font Face

Reading Theme

Default Theme (White)
You need to Log In or Sign Up to have your customization saved in your Literotica profile.
PUBLIC BETA

Note: You can change font size, font face, and turn on dark mode by clicking the "A" icon tab in the Story Info Box.

You can temporarily switch back to a Classic Literotica® experience during our ongoing public Beta testing. Please consider leaving feedback on issues you experience or suggest improvements.

Click here

Awoken

An uneasy silence filled the room. He had been sitting, unmoving and deep in thought for longer than he could remember. The plain room that had become his sanctuary and his prison was completely empty save an unusually large stack of books in one corner and a mattress in the other. As quiet and empty as the windowless white-washed room was; his mind was loud, racing, and full of everything that had happened and everything he had to do. He finished the last pages of the book he had only just picked up as his mind spurred his body into action. Mack was now fully galvanized and mentally ready to take on the calling that had been laid before him.

Mack left the one room flat he had been using in the middle of Dakhla. He came from the complex to find the bustling city reassuring. The Dakhla people went about their daily chores unaware that the man that had just entered the street was angry inside, that he had revenge on his mind, and that he was preparing after a 2 year slumber to bring hell to earth. He had called Africa home for too long and it was now time to enact revenge on the group that had destroyed his life.

The dusty streets of the city with the dust colored buildings created a very surreal atmosphere that made anyone who had been to a northern country long for the color green. Not all parts of Dakhla are dusty, but being in the western part of the Sahara has its disadvantages. The African sun beats down with an intensity that is not to be found many other places in the world. Everything in this place that can not hide from the heat is eventually turned into more dust.

Mack took the surroundings of southern Dakhla in; street merchants were lined on both sides of the street, selling everything imaginable. They sold their wares with a tenacity that truly made one understand how desperate they were. The dire situation of this people can be seen in the fact that appearances are unimportant; the trash that covers the streets indicates that in their lives there are more important tasks than keeping their society clean. The items that Mack needed though were not to be found in the inventory of a street vendor. He would have to go see Zula.

Magmus

Magmus Corporation has made the news lately, but not for good reasons. Magmus is being investigated for violating antitrust regulations. The UK Government is considering options on what to do with the Energy Giant to include fines or possibly breaking up the conglomerate.

Pete exited the black limo that had all but become his home over the last few months (rework). The conglomerate of people and cameras surrounded Pete per usual; shouting question after question trying to be heard over the other rats in the group. Man how he hated the press.

"No questions, please. We will put out a press release when we have conclusive answers to provide."

"Mr. No... Mr. Novak, do you have anything to say about the allegations that your company has been illega--

Smiling Pete calmly cut the young lady off that had asked the question, "Again, we will put out something conclusive when we have something conclusive to put out; ergo, I have nothing to say at this moment in time."

The questions continued as Pete walked in to the all glass mirrored 35 story building. The structure had been finished 3 years ago, in time for Pete's father to see it before he passed away. In hind sight Pete thought to himself that he should have had a fence installed around the compound.

"Mr. Novak, Mr. Benson is waiting in your office for you." The receptionist called out to Pete as he came through the door."

"Thank you, Melissa. How long has he been waiting?" Pete walked to the desk and smiled at her.

"Not long. He arrived around 10 minutes ago. Would you like me to hold your calls?"

"Please," said Pete as he walked down the corridor towards his office.

Pete came in to his office and closed the door. He glanced around the office before setting eyes on Mr. Benson.

"Majaliwa, I trust you found your flight pleasant?" asked Pete as he shook Majaliwa's hand.

Majaliwa name was deceptive and so was his appearance. His mother was British and his father was Namibian. He had grown up in Africa most of his life with his father after his mother passed away, however his father was able to afford for him to go to school in the UK. Majaliwa was a large man with a firm handshake. He had a dark complexion with piercing blue eyes and short dreads.

"I did," he said in his African accent.

"Good. I am pleased with the results of our agreement. I have deposited the money into your account."

"Very good and thank you."

" Majaliwa, you have been working off and on for me for a couple of years now. I would like to hire you full time to be my representative in our African operations." Pete sat down in his chair and lit a cigar.

Majaliwa sat back in his chair as he crossed his legs. He sat for a while thinking about the offer before answering. "I would be pleased to work for you further, Mr. Novak"

"Great! Talk to Melissa on your way out; she will sort your arrangements out while you are here in the UK. I will contact you in a few days. Please take this time to tour the building here."

Majaliwa and Pete both stood up at the same time to shake each others hand. There was a moment of pause in the handshake as they looked into each other's eyes.

"Good and good bye, Mr. Benson"

"Good bye."

Alex and Sonya

Mack drank alone at a busy bar in the rather beautiful and tourist city of Casablanca. The bar was located in the cities heart. The heart of Casablanca is not actually in the center of the city; it lies on the couple of miles of coast line that look out towards the Atlantic Ocean. He was meeting Zula tomorrow afternoon; so he figured he had at least half a day that he could drink. Zula would understand also if he needed to rest when he got there. She always understood. Mack looked out at the dark area of sky that he knew met with the deep blue ocean as he thought about the people drinking in the bar. They all seemed so happy. They seemed so completely and utterly happy. He wondered how it would feel to be one of these naïve people that socialized and drank in this bar.

"Probably would feel pretty good,"

"What would feel good," said a rather more feminine voice then he had expected to hear tonight.

"To be naive."

"To be naive? Why would it feel good to be naive?" shot back the voice again.

She's quick and on her toes. Mack had not looked at her yet. He was afraid that reality might not come to par with the picture he had in his mind. He pondered the question.

If I was naïve I wouldn't know how fucked up everything is? No thats not it.

"To be naïve is to be free. To be free from guilt and worry."

He had tortured himself enough and managed a glance in the direction of the voice. Green eyes. Green eyes held him in a stare which he could not leave until allowed to. After a few excruciatingly comfortable moments the voice allowed him to have another drink.

"I'm Alex, who are you," said Alex.

"Mack, so what brings you to hell?"

"Is this Hell? I was rather enjoying myself."

"As one does in Hell I suppose. So what does bring you to Morocco and how old are you by the way?" Says Mack as he takes a long drink from his beer. The beer was good. It had been a long while since he had indulged and it felt good.

"I work for Allitan, out of the UK. We are working a deal to export phosphates and some other raw materials." Alex paused while she took a drink from her wine glass. "The export market has really expanded in recent years from Morocco.

"Interesting," said Mack bluntly.

"Is it?"

"If you enjoy what you do then that is all that matters. What are phosphates used for?"

"Well since your interested, phosphates are used in many things. House hold detergent, farming; to name a couple"

"You didn't answer my other question."

Alex grinned slightly as she took another drink. "I'm 27, and you?"

Old is what Mack was, perhaps not in years but in miles he was very old. He tried to remember what it felt like when he had been happy. Mack started to think about the first time he had met his wife. It had been a very different situation than meeting someone in a bar.

Mack and his team had come in on a chopper to a small village that was under attack.. The British Government had sent them in to help South Africa squash the rebels that had been trying to take over parts of the country.

"OK, we move in 30 seconds. Remember your partner and watch his back. Cloud, I want your eyes immediately. Don't wait for us, start taking them out."

The helicopter landed about a quarter of a mile away from the village. Cloud immediately started humping it towards a large hill that would give him visibility over the town below. The other four men made there way down the hill. Thor had been on point; with BOB to his right, and Mack and Butterfingers worked from the left. The area had open fields like so much of Africa with clumps of trees skirting the terrain. The team started to spread out as they came down the hill, guns at the ready they moved in with an odd walk that allowed their sights to remain motionless as they moved. They paused just outside of the town. There must have been just over 10 rebels from what Mack saw.

The four men picked their first targets; all four of which had been hanging out watching next to a couple of buildings. As they moved within 20 feet they saw a badie go down further up. Cloud had just taken out his first. This caused their four targets to become alert, however before they could turn around they were all dead. Three of the men were shot and Butterfingers who always liked to get a little more dirty, had slit the throat of his.

"Thats five," said Mack into his radio. Another badie went down as Cloud took out his second. The rebels were so busy ransacking the town they didn't see him drop though.

Mack heard screams from one of the houses. "B, you're with me."

Butterfingers humped it around the back of the house as Mack made his way for the front door. Mack paused at the front door as he got a flashbang out of his pack.

He whispered into his microphone. "Now, B."

Two flashbangs went off simultaneously in the house just before Mack stepped through the front door. As Mack entered he saw several things all at once; Butterfingers came in through the back door, two rebels were there, and three villagers. Mack shot the rebel closest to him as Butterfingers took out the other one with his knife again. Mack admired the way Butterfingers switched back and forth so quickly between his knife and gun. The villagers are very silent as Mack looked at them. There were two women and a man. Both women had been stripped of their clothing. The man had been shot several times and was lying bleeding on the floor.

"Thor, how are you," said Mack in to his radio.

A shot rang through the radio and echoed just after in the air. "We are good. Last one just went down. We are doing a final sweep."

"Good, BOB I have an injured man here."

"There are three here as well. How bad is he." Responded BOB through the radio.

"He's pretty messed up. He has been shot several times in the chest."

"OK"

Butterfingers went over to the man and knelt down to start tending to his wounds. Mack pulled two blankets off of the couch and handed them to the women.

"We are with the SAS. You are safe now." Said Mack to the villagers.

Mack finally had a chance to look at the women more closely. He noticed the Black woman was very tall and had a stately grace about her that instantly made him respect her. The other woman was Caucasian with straight dirty blond hair. He smiled as he looked at her, from happiness. He couldn't help but think that she seemed so attractive standing there.

"I'm Mack. Are you two alright?"

The women looked at each other momentarily then back at Mack then at each other again.

"I'm Zula. Thank you and I think we will be OK now." Said Zula to Mack.

The Caucasian girl came to Zula; and allowed Zula to put her arms around her as she started to weep.

"Laying on the floor is Dr. Patrick Jessop and This is Dr. Sonya Trent. They are the doctor's of this region. She can help with the wounded." Zula turned to Sonya now. "Sonya, you need to get control of yourself. You are needed." Whispered Zula.

"I-I know. I need some clothes." Zula guided Sonya in to the other room of the house so they could both put fresh clothing on.

"Sir, I'm not sure how much more can be done for this one without a hospital." Butterfingers looked up at Mack.

"OK. Let me have the GSM." Butterfingers got the phone out of his bag and handed it to Mack. Mack proceeded to dial a number.

"SoAf operations."

"This is Lt. Makin. We need a MedVac for 4 wounded."

"MedVac is on its way, Lt. Makin. Have the wounded ready for transport in 15 mike."

"Thank you." Mack gave the phone back to Butterfingers. Sonya and Zula came out from the other room dressed and Sonya appeared to have found new strength. Mack admired the strength that both of these women showed at such an abhorrent point in their lives.

Mack and Butterfingers moved Dr. Jessop to the evacuation point where the other wounded were at. Mack sat down and enjoyed a power bar with Thor and BOB. Dr. Trent went around helping the four wounded villagers. Mack found himself watching her intently. Now that she had regained her composure she had the same stately grace that Zula had carried earlier. She had that usual South African accent that Mack found irresistible and she was completely goregous.

"I might be in love guys."

"I think I'm suffering from the same affliction," said Thor.

"What about you Beast Of Burden?" asked Butterfingers.

"Aye, they are both beautiful," responded BOB.

Mack paused while he turned up the last of his beer. He felt like smiling as he thought about Sonya's face. He refrained though. He had not smiled since it had happened. He came back to reality then. "So should we continue this jig or should we go back to your hotel room and fuck. I'm just trying to weigh up what my options are, Green Eyes."

He dared another glance at her and again was held by her stare. Her wavy hair was as dark as the African sky and complimented the eyes that bore through from behind it at him. Her cheeks flushed for a moment before she got her composure.

"Wow, he has a sense of humor and he's modest. I'm starting to feel all tingly inside," said Alex facetiously.

"I guess we'll keep dancing then."

Melissa

Melissa had been to circuits for lunch. She always had a lot of energy after circuits. As she sat there recovering, she wondered how all the out of shape people around her could stand to let their bodies go like they did.

Mary and her husband must be having troubles, she seems to be coming from the smoking lounge again.

The phone rang then and allowed her to get back in to her work.

"Melissa, can you bring in the reports from the Egypt convention."

"Sure thing, Pete."

The office was as busy as a metropolitan city. It was almost its own society with people going about their daily jobs unaware of everything that was going on around them. Melissa glided through the swarms of people making her way to Mr. Novak's office. She wondered what kind of mood he was in today. He had been under a lot of stress lately with the investigation.

As Melissa came in the office Pete immediately noticed the flushed skin tone of her cheeks and the way her blond curls stuck to her skin at the roots. He loved when she worked out.

"Hello gorgeous, how is your day going?"

"Hi. I'm fine. More importantly though, how are you."

"Lock the door. I'm good...dealing with it all I guess. You go to circuits?"

"I did," she said as she raised her shirt ever so slightly to show her toned stomach while doing a spin in the middle of the room. "Do they have any proof?"

Pete glanced at the Egypt report, sighed, then put it back on the desk. "They have some evidence, but nothing conclusive. I have a man that may be able to help us out with the Antitrust suit. He works at the office that started the case against us. If everything works out he should have a new house in Spain and the government should drop the case. Come here." Pete said as he grinned at Melissa.

"I don't think so."

"Come here." Repeated Pete as he grabbed Melissa's arm pulling her on to his lap.

They engaged in a knowing kiss before staring at each other for a long while. If he stared at her long enough all his problems might slip away. Only to stay in this moment, forever.

She whispered ever so softly in his ear. "You'll get no sympathy from me."

"I didn't expect any. Your so hard on me."

"I'm not hard on you. But if I held your hand through everything you would never learn. And with that I have to get back to work." she said.

(need more more more....what is the point of this chapter? plot push?)

Majaliwa

The streets of London were beautiful, but the kind of beauty that a person that enjoyed chaos would find appealing. This was not the part of London though that the tourist went to. He found it more enjoyable to walk where others did not go. In the West End of London people lived by different rules, rules that Majaliwa understood. He had a few days before his flight would take him back to his homeland. He had been employed by Peter Novak to help handle the mining operations of some mineral in Namibia. A place that he had lived a couple of years ago. He neither cared what the mineral was or what Mr. Novak wanted with it. As he looked at the people in the West End he had nostalgia for how he had grown up. He had grown up poor and had found a way to get out of that life. He never wanted to be like these people again; never wanted to feel that desperate. As he walked down the street he noticed that people watched him; like any pack watches a new comber. He stopped in front of a public house and decided to go in.

The pub was like any other pub that can be imagined. A wooden bar made up the heart of the building; dingy carpet sat under the areas that had tables. A wooden floor spread out across the rest of the building; long past needing to be sanded and re-varnished. As he entered the room the locals looked up from their conversations and pints at him. He ignored their eyes and went to the bar. The bartender came over after serving another customer to take his order. Majaliwa scanned the beers on tap quickly before responding.

"A pint of Carlsburg, please."

"Sure thing, mate." The bartender said as he grabbed a glass and proceeded to pour the cold beer.

"Where you from then?" Asked the man.

Majaliwa paused as he paid the man for the beer. "I'm from Zambia, in southern Africa. I'm just here visiting some friends."

"Africa? Well, its nice to see a new face. Welcome."

"Thank you."

Majaliwa felt a bump come from the left side of him as he heard a beer fall to the ground. He saw a young boy turn and look at him. Majaliwa stared at the boy waiting to see what he was going to do. The boy looked annoyed that he was there.

"Oi, you going to say your sorry for spillin' my beer? And I don't like the way you're lookin' at me either, mate."

"I did not spill your beer. You bumped in to me."

The bartender saw what was happening and spoke up. "Tom, I'll pour you another pint, then you're cut off for the night. Now leave this man alone."

"Ya, whatever."

The boy took his pint and went back to where his friends were sitting. Majaliwa's eyes met with the bartender.

"Sorry about tha...."

"Its alright, nothing I am not used to. So what is your name, friend?"

"I'm Paul, and you?"

"Majal, its a pleasure to meet you."

"You're English is better......than I would have expected."

"I went to school in England" Majaliwa's phone rang from within his coat. He pulled it out and answered it.