Amanda, CIA Agent Ch. 06

As her breath caught in her throat, she then heard the unmistakable bark of the SEALs' M-14s, firing single shots. Several more AK-47s opened up, some closer by, others more distant, overlapping with sparser return fire from the M-14s. Twice there were shouts of 'Allahu akbar' followed by a long volley. But as the firefight wore on, the AK-47s used their ammunition more judiciously.

Minutes later, two Qaida burst into the mess, dragging a third, who they heaved up on the table. His entire lower shirtfront was soaked in blood. As one removed the wounded man's ammo belt and pressed a towel uselessly against his belly, his counterpart gave his report. Amanda saw a sheathed dagger clipped to the ammo belt.

"Bashir was at the stern, when an armed man climbed over the rail. Bashir cut him in half at close range, praise be to Allah, but another attacker killed him. Talib came back from the bow and returned fire. The attacker shot him through the head too, but by then the rest of us were on deck."

Amanda was upset to hear that a SEAL had died, but she did her best to conceal her reaction.

"We all fired back, but two more attackers came over the bow rail and shot Nabil and Masoud in the back."

He patted the wounded man on the shoulder. "Zeeshan saw them kill his brother, and he ran at them very bravely, but the cowardly infidels took cover and one shot him in the stomach. But I killed him." He swaggered and held his chin high. "The other two ran away and slipped back into the sea."

"Are the two dead attacker's bodies still on the deck?"

"The man Bashir killed is still there, near the stern. I could not find the one I killed."

Amanda swallowed. Maybe the second man had survived.

Khalid nodded his head. "And where is Gaffar? Is he on sentry duty now?"

Dawoud shook his head. "No, I'm sorry sir, Gaffar is dead as well. Also shot through the head."

"So nobody is on lookout?"

"There is nobody else to send. We five are all that's left. Plus Zeeshan," he said, gesturing at the wounded man lying motionless on the table.

Shaheed put his hand to Zeeshawn's neck and shook his head. "No, he's gone."

Khalid looked around the room at his four remaining foot soldiers, and Amanda saw fear on his face for the first time. When he spoke, she heard a quaver in his voice, and she saw his men heard it too.

"Dawoud, go back on deck. You stand picket in the stern while Shaheed rests on the foredeck. After three hours, switch places."

"And what of our comrade's bodies? Shall we take them to the hold?"

Khalid waved his hand. "Lock their weapons in the closet near the stern. Make sure you both have plenty of spare magazines. Then dump the bodies overboard. This one too," he said, pointing at Zeeshawn's corpse.

As Raj and Hamad exchanged a look, Dawoud scowled, then turned and yanked the three extra 30 round magazines from Zeeshawn's ammo belt, shoving them into the empty pouches on his own belt. Angrily, he flung Zeeshawn's empty belt to the deck, then he and Shaheed went out, dragging Zeeshawn's body, his heels leaving a pair of bloody streaks behind them.

Amanda knew Muslims must be buried on land if possible, and the body ritually washed and shrouded. Unsurprisingly, the men were angry at Khalid for treating their comrades' bodies so disrespectfully.

Instead of confronting his men, Khalid turned to Amanda, gripped her throat, and shook her. "I told you to take off your clothes." He seemed unhinged.

Her face pale, Amanda nodded and unfastened her skirt, dropping it atop Zeeshawn's discarded belt. She stood before Khalid in just her bra and panties, head bowed, eyes lowered submissively.

Khalid stood silently for a long moment, watching her chest rise and fall.

A heavy thud reverberated through the deck above their heads. "That trawling boom has come loose again," said Hamad, staring at the bulge at the crotch of her panties.

Khalid swore. "I told Dawoud three times to take care of it, but it looks like I'll have to do it myself." He turned and looked at Amanda. "Don't forget," he said to Hamad and Raj, "I will have her first."

Amanda watched him leave, wondering how long he'd be gone. If the SEALs made another assault, there were still too many Qaida left to be certain of success. She needed to even the odds.

The wind was increasing, and the boat began to roll in the rising swells. While they waited, Amanda felt a cold draft and began to shiver, her arms crossed over her nearly naked body, but Khalid did not immediately return. Hamad and Raj sat down at the table and began to chew khat. They insisted Amanda remain standing, and they commented on her body, interspersed with speculation on Khalid's return. Their conversation turned to football, then they made a game of shooting rubber bands into cups.

After an hour, Raj gave Amanda another lingering look, and spoke to Hamad in a low tone. "When is Khalid returning?"

Hamad shrugged.

Raj rose and approached Amanda, pulling her against him. He was a couple of inches shorter than her, and she draped her arms over his back and turned her face away, waiting patiently while he fondled her breasts through her bra. Better to tolerate this indignity than to endure sexual intercourse, she told herself.

For a time, Hamad was content to watch, but soon he joined them, and she found herself sandwiched between the two men. "One at a time," she protested, but they ignored her.

As they explored her body, she wondered about the number of men who'd recently handled her breasts. Or been inside her vagina, she thought, as Raj pawed at her vulva, protected only by her thin panties. The total was climbing at an alarming rate, one she would have never believed was possible just a few short months ago.

She particularly disliked being trapped between the two men. As their handling grew more forceful, she wanted to grab their wrists, but she was forced to choose which forays to parry. Hamad gripped her breast from behind, too firmly, and as she tried to pry his hand loose, he tugged at the waistband of her panties. She tried to pull them back up, but he already had his hand between her legs. Still holding her breast, he slid his stubby fingers along the slick folds of her labia and spread her open.

"No." She clawed at Hamad's hand, but he was already working two fingers into her pussy. He twisted his hand, and she contracted around his fingers, moaning in spite of herself.

Raj grasped her other breast, and squeezed the cheeks of her ass with the other. A moment later, she felt him poking at her asshole with his index finger. She released Hamad's hand and hammered at Raj's arm as she swiveled her hips.

Hamad took full advantage, tightening his grip on her breast as he forced a third finger into her pussy, roughly sawing in and out of her, and she felt her face redden as her panties slid further down her thighs. Her breathing grew ragged.

I'm not a whore, she told herself between heavy breaths. I don't like this degrading treatment, and I won't let it arouse me. But she felt her body's betrayal, sensed the truth of her wetness slickening Hamad's fingers.

Raj raised his own hand long enough to spit on it, and locked his forearm around her slender waist, holding her immobile as he spread his copious saliva deep into the crack of her ass. Then his finger pressed again at her asshole, more insistently this time. Frantically she fought to get to his hand, but he blocked the way with his own body.

No, she told herself, I won't let this happen. She tensed against his finger, but ultimately she couldn't withstand the pressure. Her sphincter gave way, and she cried out as Raj's moistened finger slid inside her asshole. With his other hand, he toyed with her nipple.

She'd experienced a finger in her ass only once before, during Dr. Miller's physical exam, and she'd found the sensation unpleasant and frightening. This time she felt even more helpless, and more humiliated. Yet the coil deep inside her tightened rapidly, and she felt herself losing control.

Hamad sensed her heightened arousal, and he sawed his hand back and forth more rapidly as he dug his fingers into her breast. Simultaneously, Raj thrust two fingers deep into her asshole.

Amanda was gripped by a shuddering climax, and she let loose a series of grunts and snorts, the likes of which she'd never made before.

I'm an animal, she thought to herself. I'm no better than a rutting sow in a muddy barnyard. Her face darkened in shame.

Her breathing had barely recovered when Khalid finally reappeared. Ignoring his men's protests, he took Amanda by the hand, pulled her into the galley, and lifted her onto the counter. Moving between her legs, he rested her ankles on his shoulders, then unfastened his sirwel and pushed himself into her.

Raj and Hamad followed them into the galley, moving awkwardly, their erections tenting their trousers. They chose positions on either side of Khalid, eager for a view of his cock splitting Amanda's pussy but careful not to crowd him.

After an initial burst of rapid thrusting, Khalid slowed and began to fuck her more deliberately. As he squeezed her tender breasts and rolled her nipples between his fingers, she felt a resurgence of bitter hatred.

He's a terrorist, she told herself, an enemy, and a hateful person. He put a spider on you for his own amusement. You can't possibly desire him. But even so, his thrusting came on the heels of a shattering climax. With her sensitive tissue still slick with her own secretions and swollen with desire, she couldn't resist raising her hips to meet him as he thrust into her. A short time later, he unloaded deep inside her.

After he finished, he remained between her legs, letting his head rest between her breasts for a moment before he stood up and refastened his sirwel. Taking her arm and pulling her upright, he pushed her toward Hamad and Raj.

As she stumbled forward, she heard Six's voice in her ear. The SEALs were making another attempt to board the trawler.

Amanda stood naked before Hamad and Raj, meeting their gaze. You guys will fuck me now, she thought, but soon you too will go to your deaths, just like your stupid brothers. She made herself lift her arms, lacing her fingers through her hair as she shifted her hips from side to side.

Amanda heard a single shot from the main deck. She was certain it was an M14.

Khalid tensed, and glanced back and forth between Raj and Hamad.

There was another single shot. There was no answering AK-47 fire.

Hamad looked worried. "Maybe Raj should go make sure Dawoud and Shaheed are ok."

Khalid nodded. "Both of you go." Reluctantly, both men picked up their rifles and went out.

Amanda couldn't believe Khalid didn't accompany his men. His own leadership and firepower could have been decisive. But throughout the attack, he'd shown nothing but cowardice, and allowed his men to be slaughtered piecemeal.

Now he seemed only interested in further distraction. Harshly, he threw Amanda to the deck, then dropped his sirwel again.

As she recovered from the impact, she brought her legs together and rolled onto her side, and she noticed he was only partially erect. He fell atop her, pushing her onto her back and pressing her arm against the deck above her head. He sought her free hand, but she evaded him. As she allowed him between her legs, he spit in his hand and worked his cock, attempting to make himself fully hard.

Seeing his distraction, Amanda's fingers searched for the dagger beneath the clothing above her head. Finding it, she closed her hand around the hilt. As Khalid stroked his dick, she swung her arm forward with all her strength, burying the blade in the side of his neck.

As Khalid reared back, Amanda ripped through the front of his throat. He fell onto his back, his eyes rolling back into his head, his arterial spray painting the walls and ceiling.

Amanda knelt over him, raised her knife again, and drove it into his groin. "That's for your fucking spider," she hissed.

She sat back on her heels and watched the red froth bubble out of his mouth until he stopped breathing, which didn't take long. She let the dagger fall to the floor, disappointed that his death had come so easily, without any prolonged suffering. He'd paid the ultimate price, but it didn't seem high enough.

There were parts of Khalid's cotton clothing that remained relatively clean, and she used them to wipe the worst of the blood from her naked body, then put on her spattered clothes, leaving behind her sodden panties. Grabbing Khalid's rifle, she headed toward the stern.

As she emerged onto the main deck, she saw it was nearly dawn. The trawler's deck remained in shadow, but several floods cast scattered pools of light.

She heard a burst from an AK-47 from the port side, followed by another near the bow. She crept forward, climbed higher to a position atop the wheelhouse, and sheltered behind the coaming.

She heard the bark of an M14, and a slug tore into the structure below her, sending splinters flying. The SEAL must be shooting toward her from the bow, and his target must be directly between them. Carefully she peeked over the coaming for an instant, immediately ducking down again.

A short distance in front of her, Hamad knelt on the main deck, behind a storage locker. Dawoud's body lay sprawled on the deck nearby.

Another locker shielded Hamad from behind, but at frequent intervals, he popped out to fire a long burst toward the bow, where answering muzzle flashes told her Six crouched behind a lifeboat. If Three was still alive, he must be nearby.

Neither adversary had a clear shot at the other, but Hamad had a lot of spare ammunition, and he was using his rifle on full auto to systematically shred the wooden lifeboat. Six shifted to starboard, but Hamad adjusted his aim and began to tear apart the other end of the lifeboat. Soon Six would have nowhere to hide.

She set the selector on her AK-47 for single shot, braced it against the coaming, sighted in on a spot just left of the storage locker, and waited. When Hamad bobbed out to fire another burst, exposing his lower leg, she drilled him through the foot. He cried out and fell to his knee, and Amanda put two more rounds between his shoulder blades. He slumped to the deck, dropping his weapon with a clatter.

Immediately ducking down, she crawled to the side and took another quick peek over the coaming. She spotted Raj, who was alternately firing short bursts toward the stern and looking over his shoulder, trying to find the source of the shots that had killed Hamad.

Amanda lay prone, brought her rifle up again, and leveled it on Raj. With her high angle, he was completely exposed. She fired twice, hitting him in the side of the chest. As he fell, he unleashed a long burst in her direction, and she heard glass shatter in the wheelhouse beneath her. At the same moment, she felt a sharp tug across the back of her skirt. Initially, there was no pain, but when it began to hurt, it burned like a branding iron.

Cautiously she put her shaking hand on her backside and found a ragged tear in her skirt. She held her palm over the spot, but even slight pressure produced searing pain. When she drew back her hand, it was coated with her blood.

You will not cry, she told herself. Be a professional. She lay still, hugging herself tightly for a long moment, until the wave of panic subsided.

Her earpiece came to life. "This is Six. Stay alert, there's still one Qaida unaccounted for. Khalid, the commander."

With an effort, she made her voice calm and steady. "This is Amanda. Khalid is dead. His body's in the galley." Gritting her teeth against the pain, she climbed down from atop the wheelhouse and headed toward the stern.

"This is Six. I have Three with me. He's in bad shape but still alive. The two Qaida up here are both dead. Nice shooting on that last one, Amanda."

"Two here. I've got one dead Qaida back here, and... Oh, hi, Amanda. Thanks for the help with the other one. He's unconscious, but he's still got a pulse."

Amanda stepped forward, pressed the muzzle of her rifle against Raj's forehead, and pulled the trigger. "How about now?"

Two looked at her for a long beat, then dropped Raj's wrist. "I'll go free the hostages." He headed for the companionway.

After a moment, she followed him. As she descended the stairs, the sharp pain in her butt intensified, and she grunted and grabbed the handrail. She glanced down and saw a rivulet of blood tracing a spiral down her thigh and calf.

Two was busy rigging an explosive charge around the heavy chain that barred the entrance to the fish hold. He was preparing to detonate it when he looked up.

"Amanda, you're hit." He pointed to the blood dripping down her leg.

She grimaced. "I got shot in the butt."

"Go lie down in the mess."

She went inside, deliberately kicking Khalid's lifeless body before lying face down on the cleaner of the two benches.

From the passageway, she heard a muffled explosion, then clamoring voices as Two freed the hostages. A minute later, Two entered, followed by a man in a dress shirt and slacks whom Amanda recognized as the ambassador.

Despite her discomfort, she rose and extended her hand. "Mr. Newhouse. It's such a relief to see you're safe. Is your family ok?"

He waved her back to her bench. "You're wounded, save your strength. My family are fine, thank God. I'm not a doctor, but I found a small first aid kit, and wanted to assist."

She lay back down, aware that from their position by her feet, they could see up her short skirt. She spotted her panties in the corner where she'd left them, and wondered if they were dry enough to put on. Probably not. She pressed her thighs together tightly.

As he removed a larger first aid kit from its wall bracket, Newhouse noticed the blood spattering the walls and ceiling. "It's an abattoir in here, what the hell happened?"

Two gestured toward Khalid's body. "He's the Qaida unit commander. Amanda cut his throat. Then she came up on deck and shot two of his foot soldiers dead."

"No kidding!" Newhouse lifted the hem of Amanda's skirt and looked beneath it, then took a pair of bandage scissors from the kit and cut the material from the hem to the waistband. The pieces fell away, exposing her bare bottom.

Over her shoulder, she saw both men staring, and she felt a bloom of heat across her face. Why did she have to get hit in such an embarrassing place?

She was afraid to look at her wound. She was so proud of her perfectly rounded butt, nearly as proud as she was of her breasts, and she'd looked forward to the day when her true love saw it for the first time. If she were disfigured, the loss would be hard to bear.

Two pulled gently at the side of her hip as he peered at her wound. "It's a graze. You're very fortunate. You have a two inch lateral crease across the swell of your right buttock, but there's no damage to muscle. Nevertheless, you'll need several stitches."

He looked at Newhouse. "What do you think?"

Newhouse nodded. "I agree. A plastic surgeon should sew that up. It would be a shame to have a scar on that, um, pretty bottom."

He rubbed his chin. "For now, I'd close that with some butterflies. Leave it uncovered so we can check on it periodically and make sure it's clotting properly."

Two found some butterflies in the kit. "Can you push the edges together?"

"Certainly," said Newhouse, using both hands to grip her butt cheek.

Two touched the back of her thigh. "I'll just make some room for us to work, if you don't mind, Amanda." He pushed her legs apart, carefully lowering them to the floor on either side of the bench.

"Oh," said Amanda. With her legs open wide, she was fully exposed. She raised her hand to her hot cheek. "Could you --"

Six entered. "Three is stable, and as comfortable as I can make him until the Medevac chopper gets here from the Nimitz."