Amanda, CIA Agent Ch. 06

He looked at Newhouse. "There's a second Seahawk on its way for you and your family. Then you're all on a C21A from Aden to Landstuhl to be completely checked out."

He turned to Amanda. "Ouch, looks like you caught a nick from a stray round. Hell of a place to get shot." He leaned in for a closer look.

"The corpsman will want the rest of your clothes off." He ran the bandage scissors up the back of her blouse, then sliced through the straps of her bra, letting the remnants fall to the sides.

Meanwhile, Two applied the butterflies to her bottom as Newhouse held the edges of her wound together. "She needs to go along to Landstuhl too. The plastic surgeon can sew this up properly."

She shivered in the cool, damp air. As soon as Two was finished, she scanned the room in vain for some covering. She noticed Newhouse's hand remained cupped around the swell of her bottom, his fingers trailing down into her crack.

Six tapped her shoulder. "If you can just raise up for a minute, I'll get these pesky scraps of clothing out from underneath you."

She sighed, then levered herself up onto her elbows. Six made a couple more snips with the bandage scissors, and pulled out the remains of her blouse. The cups of her bra, tacky with Khalid's blood, still clung to her breasts, and he reached out to free them, palming her breasts repeatedly until she huffed at him in annoyance. Finally, he pulled away the last piece of her bra, and she lowered her chest to the bench again.

Newhouse shifted his hand on her bottom, and she felt his fingertip brush her labia. She turned her head and glared at him over her shoulder.

"How did you manage to get aboard the trawler?"

She sighed and turned her face away. "I posed as a prostitute," she murmured.

"Shit. Did you have to actually... fuck them?"

After a moment, she nodded, her cheeks pink.

"Fuck," said Six. "How many?"

She turned and frowned at Six. "Depends how you count. I mean, Khalid, of course, plus Samir. And maybe Hamad and Raj."

Six tilted his head. "Maybe?"

She felt a flash of anger, and rose onto her elbows again to look Six in the eye. "Hamad fingered me, but I didn't --" She cleared her throat, and her voice rose. "I didn't have to take his dick."

She knew she was showing him her breasts again, and he was staring, but she was too angry to care.

Newhouse gave her bottom a squeeze. "What about Raj?"

She clenched her jaw and looked back at him. "I didn't take his dick either," she said through her teeth. "He just pushed two fingers all the way up my asshole."

She realized Newhouse's fingertip had nestled in between her labia, and flirted with the entrance to her pussy. She fixed him with a withering stare. "Are you trying to get your own name on my list? What would your wife have to say?"

Newhouse withdrew his hand from her bottom with a nervous smile.

Then she heard the thwapping sound of a copter in the distance, growing louder quickly.

Six hurried topside to see to Three. Minutes later, a Navy corpsman appeared carrying a basket litter. The men rolled Amanda onto her back so the corpsman could examine the rest of her body, but he didn't find any other wounds.

Finally, the three men lifted Amanda into the litter and positioned her face down. The corpsman checked her bottom again, then strapped her into the litter, and the three men carried her out.

On the main deck, Six watched as a hovering Seahawk hoisted Three's litter aboard, followed by One's body. Then it was Amanda's turn. Then Two was hoisted up, and finally the corpsman was lifted aboard. As their Seahawk set off for Aden, the second chopper moved into position, ready to carry the Newhouses, accompanied by Six.

As their chopper lowered its nose and accelerated, Amanda sighed with contentment. She had performed well, and fully discharged her responsibility. And she'd personally killed three terrorists. She had earned the right to feel proud. She closed her eyes and let the steady vibration lull her to sleep.