Becca XXX: Dangerous Cargo Ch. 06

"Then why are you stealing drugs from drug dealers? Have you got a death wish or something?"

"Someone told me to," he replied.

"So, you are with The Mancs," I stated it as a fact rather an asking him the question.

"Maybe."

"In that case you're no better than these assholes, are you?"

He didn't answer, but he glanced at the bag which was a few feet away from him. I could tell he was thinking about taking it and making a run for it.

"Don't even think about it," I snapped. "You can't out run a bullet."

"I can't go back empty handed, they'll beat the shit out of me," he moaned.

"Isn't that better than being dead?"

"You don't know what they're capable of. I don't want to end up like him," he nodded at Black's corpse.

I don't know if it was his age or the fact he was fighting against the same people as me, but I was feeling sorry for this kid. I decided to throw him a life line as I kept my eye on Blue. His confidence was growing now that my attention was focused on Mother Fucker.

"Pick up his weapon," I said to the kid.

"What?"

"Pick up the pistol."

Mother Fucker looked cautious as though I was going to use it as an excuse to shoot him.

He approached Blue and bent down to pick up his empty gun. He was no threat.

"You said you needed something to go back to your gang with. Take that pistol and tell them that you've shot and killed one of The Lees with it. You didn't get the stash because you had to make a run for it. They'll welcome you into the fold with open arms."

A grin crept over his face as he realised, he'd be seen as a hero.

"They killed one of yours on Monday night, right? John, wasn't that his name?"

"Yeah, they're going apeshit about it. They want revenge," he spat.

"Well, now they've got it. Now get the fuck out of here before I change my mind. If I find out you've talked about me, I'll track you down like I did these two dickheads."

He looked at the bag again, wondering if he should risk it, but then realised it would be a stupid move. Instead, he ran off like a scalded cat, making it to the fence in record time. I heard the rattle as he made it back to the street, leaving me with Blue.

I knew the police would be on their way, but that didn't bother me. I would be released without charges once they found out who I was.

I turned my attention back to Blue.

"Where's Brian?" I snapped.

"You shouldn't have let him go," he replied. "He'll grass you up to his boss."

"Why would he do that? He'd be taking the glory away from himself. Besides, if it escalates the war between you fuckwits, it's a win-win for me."

"Who the fuck are you?" he asked again.

"Where's Brian?" I asked again.

"Who?"

I suddenly remembered his alter ego.

"Yorkie. Where is he?" I rephrased the question.

"How would I know. I've not seen him since Tuesday's drop off," he shrugged.

"Drop off? What was he dropping off?"

He shuffled up onto his knees and moved forwards so that he could see the duffle bag lying on the floor. He was also moving closer to his dead friend's gun which was still in his hand a couple of feet away.

"That bag," he nodded at the duffle bag. "He was resupplying us for the week."

"With drugs?"

"Yeah, take a look inside," he nodded again.

I watched his eyes glance down at the gun in the blink of an eye. It reminded me of Todd when he'd tried to get a look at my tits without me noticing. He was thinking about making a move for it. My eyes were fixed on him despite him trying to distract me by nodding at the bag.

"Where are the MP7's?"

"The what?"

"Where are the sub-machine guns?"

"I don't know anything about that," he replied. "That's all down to Yorkie. I just sell drugs for him."

I went quiet for a minute to see if he'd fill the gap with anymore information, but he didn't. Instead, he tried to bribe his way out of it.

"Hey... why don't you take the drugs? That's why you're here, right? I won't tell anyone it was you. I'll say it was The Mancs," he suggested.

"Do I look like a low-life drug dealer?" I spat. "Who did the drive-by on Monday night?"

"No idea. Like I said, Yorkie handles all that sort of shit."

"Then you're not much use to me, are you?" I said, pointing my gun at his head.

"No, please don't. There's money in there too," he continued. "At least two-grand. Just take it. I won't tell anyone. Just let me go, yeah."

His hands were by his sides, but they were gently inching towards his friend's pistol as he sat back onto his feet. It looked like a submissive pose, but it was just a ploy to get his hand within a few inches of the pistol. Maybe he thought I was distracted by the thought of money.

"I don't need the money. Tell me why I shouldn't kill you right now. You tried to rape me on Friday night and now you've been trying to kill me," I said.

"Come on baby. You don't want to do this," he shrugged.

As he shrugged his hand moved closer to the weapon.

He had no answer to give. He knew he was fucked. I saw the acceptance in his eyes and he saw the look of imminent justice in mine. I knew he was going to make a grab for the pistol; he might as well go down fighting after all.

Having been pumped up on adrenaline most of the night and almost witnessing this guy execute a rival gang member, meant I felt nothing for him. I didn't even see him as a human being. His life had been spent causing harm to others, either from supplying them with drugs or causing them physical harm.

I willed him to go for the gun.

That's exactly what he did.

It was a very fast movement as he grabbed the weapon and started to bring it up towards me. At the same time, he rolled to the side, having seen too many gangster movies. He was less than eight feet away from me and there was no way I was going to miss my target.

Before he could fire, I squeezed off one round into his forehead and watched the back of his head splatter all over the concrete.

Thud. Splat. Flop.

It was over.

He flopped backwards in slow motion, like a falling tree and lay as still as the night, on the gravel floor.

I let out a long sigh of relief and walked over to pick up the duffle bag. There was no point in checking to see if they were both dead; it was obvious.

The bag was half unzipped and I could see that it was half full of drugs. There were small wraps of white powder, which I guessed were cocaine. There were also a few rolls of cash held together with elastic bands.

I guessed that these two would have kept on selling drugs until they emptied the bag and refilled it with cash. Then they would have called Brian to swap it over and the cycle would continue.

I thought back to what Blue had said to me about keeping the bag and blaming it on The Mancs. The Lees would assume that this was the work of their rivals, so stealing this bag was a good idea. It also got the drugs off the street; I could hardly leave them here for someone to find.

Gangs killing each other was a win-win for everyone as long as no more innocent bystanders were caught in the crossfire. Once Brian found out about it, he'd hopefully make a counter strike. With a bit of luck, I could use his tracker to try and pinpoint where the weapons were being stored.

I assessed the scene as though I'd only just arrived. There were two dead men lying behind a pile of rubble in a derelict warehouse. The bag was missing and there were bullet holes everywhere. It was easy to figure out what had happened. The only thing they'd get wrong was that it was me that had done it and not The Mancs.

I took my backpack off and put my Makarov back into its hiding place. I then stuffed the empty magazine into the main compartment along with the drugs and the cash. It was a tight squeeze, but I managed to do the zipper back up. I then hurled the duffle bag into the warehouse as though it had just been emptied and discarded.

After one last look around, I pulled my hood back up and ran back to the fence. I squeezed through the gap and started my run back home.

There was no sign of anyone around, but I kept my head down just in case. I was sure they'd be some curtains twitching after the amount of gunfire they must have heard.

Step-step-step. Pant-pant-pant.

I suddenly realised how hot and sweaty I was. My whole body felt sticky and uncomfortable. My underwear was drenched, which wasn't unusual, but I wondered why my body had reacted the way it had. I didn't just have a sweaty pussy, it felt slippery as though I was turned on. The whole situation had been exhilarating and my body seemed to be confused between fear and excitement.

I immediately thought of Natalie and her panty selling fetish. She'd love this pair to sell to her clients. I really did miss her.

Step-step-step. Pant-pant-pant.

I heard a siren approaching along the main road. I kept my head turned away, but I continued to run along the pavement as though it was nothing to do with me. A female runner wouldn't be at the top of their list of suspects. The police would assume it was gang related.

The BMW X5 flew past at high speed with its lights flashing in the front grille. It was an unmarked black vehicle and I knew it was the fire-arms squad. They wouldn't be taking any chances when it came to gun crime. It was still a rarity in the UK for gun battles to take place, but they were becoming more common.

I made it back to the pub and it was a very different scene to the one I'd witnessed earlier. The car park had several vehicles in it, one of which was Brian's.

I stopped short of the pub and observed from afar while I drank some more water. I was so thirsty that my mouth felt like sandpaper.

Brian was in the car park, barking orders at several large men and waving his arms about. It looked like they'd found out about the shooting already. Twenty minutes had passed since I'd fled the scene and I guessed that news travelled fast in the criminal underworld. Maybe someone close to the scene had reported it. I just hoped that they hadn't seen a small female dressed in black running gear leaving the area.

As I continued to watch, I saw the boot of a car open up and one of the men took out a large green bag. It looked heavy as he hauled it out and carried it to a van which was parked up next to it.

Brian seemed to be calling the shots as they all piled into the van and it sped off past me in the direction I'd just come from.

There was no way I could follow them, but if Brian had his burner phone with him, I'd soon know where he'd been.

I finished the rest of my water and set off home. I loved the freedom of running, but the eight-mile trip, coupled with a shoot-out in the warehouse had tired me out both physically and mentally.

By the time I got home, I was exhausted, hungry and parched.

I threw my bag onto the kitchen counter and ripped my hoody off to try and cool down. After downing two pints of water from the kitchen tap, I flopped down on the sofa for a well needed rest.

It was around nine o'clock and the whole event had taken about three hours. My next job was to get some food and then call Lexa to update her on what had happened.

As I lay there thinking about the night's events, I began to feel concerned. Not because of what I'd done, but because it hadn't bothered me. I'd just shot and killed two men at almost point-blank range and I was worried that I didn't feel guilty or sick or anything really.

When Lexa had first recruited me, I was petrified of what she'd made me do. I'd been practically raped by members of her team, being force to take cum inside me which I'd never let anyone do to me before. She'd then made me suck off thirty men and take it up the ass as part of my ongoing ordeal. She'd even made me fuck my own sister.

All of that had bothered me to begin with, but now it just seemed normal. I could take a pounding from hundreds of guys against my will and still come out of the other side with a smile on my face. I'd become conditioned to it.

Was the same thing now happening to me when it came to killing people? I'd always justified it to myself by the fact that these people didn't deserve to live. They were lowlife scum who got what they deserved, but I still thought I'd feel something when I pulled the trigger.

I let out a long sigh and closed my eyes to try and relax. I thought I'd give myself five minutes to quieten my mind before calling Lexa, but before I knew it, I'd fallen asleep.