Cobra Crew: Preemptive Strike Ch. 05

"Alpha Team here, approaching the rear. We are in position, over."

It would save everyone a lot of time if the audacious Cobra Crew came out of that building in bags, Everette surmised. But truth be told, he just wanted to get Samantha back.

The half-dozen officers in the mobile unit were quiet as the teams signalled their readiness. All eyes were on Agent Quinn.

"Entry teams, permission granted for silent breach. I repeat, silent breach is a go."

"Roger that. Mission's a go!!"

***

The Alpha team leader signalled to his men, who took up position to cover him. They were now outside the room with faint lights peeking from under the locked door. Since the team's swift and quiet entry five minutes ago, there had been no signs of anyone in the factory - until now.

"Alpha to Command. We have an affirmative - heat signatures are detected in the room. Looks like they're huddled together in the center of the room, over."

"Roger that, Alpha. Command to Charlie, what's your status?"

"Charlie here. We are clearing the basement. No signs of hostiles or objectives, over."

"Roger that, Charlie." Came the voice of Agent Quinn. "New orders: move to ground level and support Alpha. I repeat, Charlie to backup Alpha. Delta, continue with the basement sweep."

"Copy that, Command."

"Delta copies, over."

"Bravo's got your six, Alpha." Four more SWAT officers appeared behind the FBI elite entry team.

"Room is square shaped, nine-hundred square feet, two exits, high windows. Same hallway for both exits."

"Uh, this is Sierra Two. We have no visuals on your location. Windows are blocked, over. I repeat, no visuals."

"Breach teams, negative on bangs or CS. Hostages could be harmed." Quinn told the team, denying them the use of flashbangs or tear gas canisters. "Ram the doors, go in hot."

"Roger that. Alpha Three and Four will breach from alternate entry point." Two members of his team gave him the thumbs up from the second door.

"Command, we are ready to breach."

"Alpha and Bravo, you're live." Agent Quinn told them, as the techies in the mobile command unit enabled the live feeds from the cameras mounted on the SWAT team members. The noisy green shadows showing on the screens would soon switch over to full colour pictures, once they enter the lit room.

"Ready when you are, Alpha."

"Ready position... three, two, one... hit it!!"

BAM!! The battery rams smashed the door hard, punching out the door handles with ease. Both doors swung inward. The Alpha team leader, his M4 carbine leading the way, jumped through the entrance immediately, as his men poured into the room after him.

"This the FBI! Hands on your head!! Hands on..." The team leader's barking orders came to an abrupt end when he surveyed the scene in front of him.

At the centre of the dormitory-style room, were two near-naked women, perched on a bed.

They were the only occupants in the room.

Everyone instantly recognized State Police Lieutenant Samantha Dawson, who was struggling to lift herself while in a kneeling position. Her wrists were handcuffed behind her to the head bars of the metal bedframe, and her calves were tied to the side rails with rope. She shook her head frantically at the SWAT team, protesting something - yet nothing intelligible, no thanks to the giant red ball gag in her mouth.

"Uh, room is clear." The Alpha team leader started, as his men approached the hostages cautiously. "Two... females present. No signs of hostiles."

"Roger that, Alpha." Agent Quinn replied in a low voice, relieved but clearly perturbed by the images from the feed.

"This is Command, watch your steps, Alpha," A female voice joined the conversation. "Keep an eye out for booby-traps."

"That's an affirmative."

The officers gingerly spread out, forming a circle around the bed. Now they could see the blonde Lieutenant labouring to elevate herself from the face of Special Agent Natasha Cole. It took a while for the team to verify that it was indeed the FBI agent, since her features were obscured by Samantha's gorgeous ass and leather straps on the lower part of her face.

On closer inspection, they saw the black straps were attached to an object fastened on top of Natasha's mouth. The leader of the Alpha team inhaled deeply when he realized what it was.

"The Lieutenant is riding a strap-on over the mouth of Agent Cole. Damn..." He thought to himself - and felt his cock stiffen.

The federal agent was surprisingly still, to the point where the Alpha team lead thought she might have been unconscious. Then again, the way she was tied left little room for movement. Lying on her back, Natasha's wrists were tied to her ankles, while two coils of rope further secured her ankles to the top of the bed frame, coercing her legs up-and-out to a wide "V" shape, all but lifting her mesmerizing ass off the mattress.

Natasha was completely exposed - there was not a stitch of clothing on her. What was more humiliating, however, was the presence of another black strap-on dildo - long abandoned by whoever might have worn it - sticking half way out of Natasha's asshole.

Barely an inch above that was a purple dildo, buried deep into her pussy. The team assumed (correctly) that both dildos were similar in length and width, and they were... huge. The cops' roving eyes couldn't help but gawk at the women's gorgeous bodies, especially their beautiful, heaving breasts. Each member of the FBI Rescue & Response Team took note of the fact that both women's nipples were decorated - and pinched - with metal clamps.

"We have visual confirmation of Dawson and Cole. I repeat, we have Dawson and Cole. They, uh, appear to be physically unharmed." The team leader reported, for the benefit of the other teams. "Moving to... Whoa!"

The Alpha team lead froze, immediately raising his closed fist, and everyone halted. He began to understand the Lieutenant's concerns and lewd movements when he saw several wires protruding from sticker pads stuck to her fellow hostage. The wires ran down to underneath the bed, where a device with blinking lights rested.

"Command, suspected explosive device found, I repeat, suspected IED found. No timer visible." He announced softly.

"Appears to be C4 plastic, with a detonator." Another team member observed.

The SWAT team leader swung his flashlight over to exam the wires. The first wire disappeared under Natasha's lower back, and another disappeared under her head. Then two other pads were pasted to both her cheeks, just below her eyes - visible only when Samantha lifted her ass and thighs over the woman's face. Natasha groaned and drew in a deep breath.

"Ngggghhhh, nggggghhhh!!" The blonde shook her head in frustration, before sinking and sitting on Natasha's face again.

"Are they pressure pads? Pressure sensors?" The Alpha team leader inquired. Samantha nodded, almost hysterically.

He understood.

"Command, my assessment is that the detonator is wired to at least four pressure sensors - if there is no weight within a short period of time, the device is triggered."

Samantha nodded in agreement as beads of sweat dripped down from her forehead. Natasha moaned beneath her, her face slick with her own sweat - along with the blonde's forced excitement.

Unbeknownst to everyone in the room, the unimaginable delay for the women was about to be prolonged by events outside the factory. The pair of law enforcement agents would remain in their devious arrangement for another two hours before they were finally freed.

***

"Holy shit." Someone finally whispered.

Widened eyes inside the mobile command unit were glued to the screen.

"... Cole can't move, and Dawson has to- apply pressure on her face." One of the officers mumbled, summing up the dire situation.

"Leaving their vics in peril is very much the Cobra Crew's M.O."

"All units, be aware the Bomb Squad is preparing to enter the building. Charlie team, you are to escort..."

"Where the hell did the Crew go??" Quinn scratched his beard.

"Alpha, ask Dawson when the hostiles left." A female agent inquired.

"Affirmative. Stand by, Command," The team lead announced over the speakers, after a brief pause. "Dawson is indicating... thirty minutes. More? More than thirty minutes. Over."

Quinn turned to Everette, who was visibly relieved at the discovery of the Lieutenant. The shock expression on his face was adequately masking his lust for Samantha. "The Crew left before we got here. They knew we were coming."

"But... their minivan is still inside the building." Everette thought aloud. "Did they stash another car here?"

"Even so, they wouldn't have gotten past the roadblocks. Those were established at least forty-five minutes ago." Agent Quinn fumed.

"Time to call in the air uni-"

KA-BOOM!!

The officers' conversation was rudely interrupted by a jolting explosion just outside the command vehicle, rocking the trailer and plunging the cops into darkness. Sparks cackled from several pieces of equipment, and everything went offline.

"What!!" Everyone ducked and took cover, unsure of what just happened.

"Is anyone hurt?!" Agent Quinn asked, slowly coming up, clenching his firearm with its flashlight attachment.

"We're okay" There were murmurs of affirmations as everyone collected themselves.

Suddenly, they heard footsteps - running toward them. On his knees, Agent Quinn pivoted and trained his weapon-

"Is everyone all right?!" Came a frantic voice outside the vehicle. The FBI Supervisory Agent paused.

"Friendlies coming through! Team Echo here. Is everyone okay?"

It was the leader of the Lake Marion County SWAT team.

"We are okay!" Quinn slowly raised his head past the shattered window glass. He saw the tense SWAT officers, their backs against the walls of the trailer, their weapons raised at the unseen threat.

Everyone hit the ground again when a second explosion went off. Everyone on the County SWAT team dove for cover - just to see their transport truck blowing up and engulfed in flames about fifteen yards away.

"Those are bombs going off!! They must've been planted just now... Can we raise the entry teams?!" Quinn looked around. The technicians, peeking out from under a desk, shook their heads.

"The power generators are blown up, sir. We are in the dark."

"What the hell?? There's no signal on my phone!"

"Me neither..."

"There's gotta be a jammer around. Shit, it's powerful-"

"Those sons of bitches-"

Then a third, fourth and fifth explosion followed. Those who looked out the window saw the State Police tactical armored vehicle actually being lifted off the ground by the combined forces of the explosions, before parts scattered and burning metal came crashing to the ground.

***

Sergeant Shaun Carr wasn't thrilled to be deployed hours before his regular shift, but it had been a rough day for the State Police. The older sergeant knew better to bitch out loud in front of his men, even if it meant manning a roadblock in the middle of the night, on this quiet stretch of the road.

He was happily voicing his opinions on the latest baseball blockbuster trade with the other Troopers when they heard the rumbles of approaching vehicles. A black, unmarked Chevrolet Suburban was rolling to a stop, leaving a good distance between it and the State Police cruisers. The large SUV had its front red and blue lights flashing, but no sirens. A second vehicle, a Lake Marion County Medical Services ambulance trailed behind, with its own blue emergency beacons flashing in haste.

Sergeant Carr frowned. His orders were clear - "NO ONE passes through, unless Command gives the OK". As expected, the radio had been silent since their arrival. They did turn two incoming cars around, but no one had tried to come OUT of the cordon - until now.

The eight State Troopers looked at each other, unsure what to do.

The sergeant motioned to his partner, and both men took out their M&P 9mm service pistols from their holsters. Keeping their guns pointed down, the two State Troopers gingerly approached the SUV.

"What the hell, guys?" The driver demanded, rolling down his window and staring out at the tense troopers. He spotted the other Troopers taking cover behind their cruisers, their shotguns and assault rifles at the ready.

"Identify yourself!" Sergeant Carr ordered.

"Whoa! Sir, we're on the same team! Special Agent Scott Fields, Rescue & Response, FBI." The male agent said, his palms raised. "Take it easy, please, I'm taking out my ID."

The State Police sergeant took a step closer, his finger wrapped around the trigger guard. He could see the driver and his impressive frame behind his all-black SWAT team uniform. The agent was wearing a Kevlar vest with white, oversized "FBI" letters on his chest. He flashed his ID card, before continuing impatiently.

"Sergeant... Carr?" He said, after glancing at the name tag and stripes on the Trooper's uniform. "We have to evac the injured. There's been multiple causalities..."

"Hold up there, son," The sergeant shook his head. "We're under orders not to let anyone pass without authorization-"

"But-"

Sergeant Carr held up his hand, interrupting the agent.

"Agent Fields, FBI, right? Look, I'll call it in, we'll get this straightened out." He leaned into his shoulder-mounted radio.

"Command, this is Checkpoint Whisker, come in, Command."

There was only static on the radio.

"Command? Come in, Command."

"Oh shit, you guys have been in the dark. Of course." The FBI agent threw his beefy arms in the air. He purposely raised his voice so all the State Troopers could hear him.

"The hostages are safe and sound, but they're strapped to explosives. Meanwhile, the criminals must've knew we were coming, and they escaped, but not before going around planting C4s on our cars. They hit the command unit - did you guys hear the explosions?"

"I told ya they were bombs!" One of the Troopers piped up, while the others nodded blankly.

The sergeant looked around at his men. Everyone was in shock at the latest revelations. At least he wasn't the only one.

"A bunch of our cars are blown up, and we were operating completely in the dark. Two teams almost shot each other. Radio and cell services are unavailable - techies are trying to locate the signal jammer. The bastards planted it somewhere."

"Son of a bitch!" Another Trooper chimed in.

"Damn straight. The Cobra Crew are total pros. But like I said, there's been casualties. We HAVE to get to the hospital." The FBI agent continued, almost pleading with the Troopers now. "I'm running escort, in case they try to hijack their way out of here."

Sergeant Carr wiped his forehead and glanced over at the ambulance. The female driver, in the familiar-looking navy blue Lake Marion County Medical Services unis, appeared both grim and tense at the same time. He could actually see her white knuckles, as she was gripping the steering wheel very tightly with both hands. The paramedic turned to the rear of her ambulance.

"Troopers, we REALLY, REALLY need to go!" She said in a forceful tone.

The sergeant could feel his men's gazes falling upon him, waiting for a decision.

"I must get authorization." He insisted. An idea came to him. "I can call headquarters with my cell-"

Suddenly, the sergeant's radio came to life, albeit filled with static.

"Check- nt Whis-, come-, -mand" The female voice was broken up badly.

"This is Checkpoint Whisker, go ahead, Command." Carr replied, relief evident in his voice.

"Whis-, this- Command. Para-dics- enroute- your lo-tion, o-"

"Say again?"

And the radio went silent again.

"Command, can you say again? I repeat-"

"Sir, I think they said 'paramedics en-route to your location'." One of the Troopers tipped his cap and offered helpfully. Several others nodded in agreement.

Sergeant Carr looked at his radio, over at his men, then at the two drivers.

"Okay- lift the spikes!" He holstered his gun and waved his arm. The Troopers jumped to attention. "Let's go, open it up. On the double!"

The sergeant sighed as he watched as his men retracted the tire spikes and moved the cruisers out of the way. He sure as hell did not want to have blood on his hands.

"Ahem, no, no hard feelings, Agent Fields." He turned back to the federal agent, the darkness hiding the crimson on his face. "Just-"

"Just doin' your job. I understand, Serge. No hard feelings." The male agent saluted. "Word of advice, Serge?"

"Yeah?"

"You and your men, y'all are doin' a good job. Stay vigilant! The Cobra Crew is on the loose. They could very well try and break through YOUR checkpoint."

The male agent stared hard into the sergeant's eyes.

"Remember: stay vigilant!"

"Yes sir!!" Sergeant Carr replied, returning the salute with authority.

"Troopers - as you were." Agent Fields saluted the sergeant and his men as he drove through, followed by the ambulance. Sergeant Carr and the other troopers watched as the two emergency vehicles accelerated loudly, and disappeared from view quickly.

"Re-deploy the spikes!" Sergeant Carr barked to his men.

"What if another ambulance comes?"

"We'll deal with it. Right now, we have to stay vigilant!"

The State Troopers all nodded and got back to work.

***

"'STAY VIGILANT!'"

Cammy stifled a laughter as she mimicked Ryan's tough, no-nonsense advice to the State Troopers. Val giggled from the back of the ambulance.

Thirty minutes later, the trio was still pleasantly surprised at the way they got through the roadblock. At the first opportunity, they had steered off of the main road, and the hijacked police SUV and ambulance were now travelling on separate and smaller county roads.

"I can't get over that shit. And those guys lapped it up, so hard. Romeo, you missed your Hollywood calling." Cammy laughed into her earpiece.

"Thanks, Cobra." Came the response. "But I'm liking my criminal calling just fine."

"Oh puh-lease," Val chimed in on the conversation. "You 'like' your criminal calling 'cuz you get to fuck helpless pussies."

"Oooh, that's harsh, babe." Ryan replied. "True, but harsh."

Chuckling, Cammy turned to look over her shoulders. There was Val, looking deviously delicious in her borrowed State Police uniform, standing over their paramedic hostage - and holding a knife to her throat. The fair-skinned Spanish looker, in her early twenties, sat perfectly still in a bright yellow wheelchair, normally used by paramedics to transport their patients. Even without the threatening knife, she wasn't going anywhere, not with restraining straps tying her wrists and ankles to the yellow metal bars.

The young woman was shivering, partly from the fact she was stripped down to her matching set of pink bra and panties, but mostly from fear.

The sharp blade at her skin was surely menacing, but the paramedic's panic was also a result of Val's active molestation of the woman's gorgeous breasts, which looked as though they were straining to break free from her sensual, low-cut bra.

"And YOU, honey," Val leered at the sultry paramedic, casually running her fingertips deep into her deep cleavage.

"You're one of them yummy, helpless pussies."

That comment elicited an angry grunt from their other passenger in the hijacked ambulance. Cammy smiled to herself as Val merrily turned her attention away from the black-haired paramedic.

"Oh, don't worry, Special Agent Heather Dougherty, I hadn't forgotten about you -" Val said, turning to the supply shelf. She roughly tore off an oxygen supply tubing from a mask, coiled the plastic tube and snapped it tight in her hands.

THWACK! In one smooth motion, Val lashed the makeshift whip harshly at the sexy backside of the sandy-blonde FBI SWAT team member, who had also lost her uniform to the Cobra Crew. Her luscious body barely gave away that she was thirty-two, Cammy thought. Without a stitch of clothing on her and her blue silk panties occupying her mouth, a pink mark appeared instantly on Heather's bare bottom.