Stella's Revenge

Stella's Revenge.

This is the continuation of an earlier story, Stella and Margarita. I strongly recommend you read that first. It isn't entirely required but it does help you to understand this story a little better. This is a non-erotic story but there is some violence.

Stella is in her early fifties, plain-looking, with dark brown hair, cut short at her partner's [Margarita] request, tall, well-built but not overweight and financially independent due to her inheritance. She lives in the hinterland of Queensland, in her nana's old homestead, fibro built, Iron roof, two bedrooms, a lounge and a kitchen dining area. Typical 1940s post-war farmhouse. Stella was an only child as was her mum. She lost her granddad in Burma during the Second World War and her dad after two tours in Vietnam. He was one of the last regular soldiers to leave, battle-hardened always doing more than what was expected of him. Much of it went unrecorded he was involved in many operations that were eventually known as 'black ops.'

Even though her dad was around when she was born, she never got to know him. He withdrew into himself and eventually took his own life when Stella was only 4 years old, in 1979. She had to rely on her mum and her gran to explain to her what a beautiful man he was. Her mum never remarried, not ever dating another man. She had her friends come over for afternoon tea and they would sit around and chat. That was her mum's social life for as long as Stella could remember.

Stella's school-age years were uneventful, not an outstanding scholar but she studied hard and like most girls who studied hard and didn't socialise she was bullied. Because of her looks and height, she developed thick skin, it was because of her height, that she was always picked for the school's netball side, always doing well. But never a standout. Never would one of the boys seek out at the school dances, her mum told her that she most likely intimidated the boys because she was taller than most of them. Told her not to worry, when the right man came along she would know. Well, the right man never came along and she was not too bothered by it.

Stella joined the regular army at 19 as an administrative assistant [non-combat]. Her role was to collate information and ensure the right people read the right information. She was very good at it.

By the time her first term was coming to a close, she had already decided the army life was for her, she applied herself and gradually rose to the rank of Sargent during her second three-year tour. It was during her time in a recon unit that she started to stand out as a leader. On one occasion during exercises involving the Americans in the outback, she with her squad was seconded into a behind the line's mission, which they did exceeding well at. Stella was mentioned in dispatches by the Americans, on three separate occasions, over 6 months. This brought her to the attention of the commander of the Special Air Services Regiment [the SAS]. As a woman, Stella wasn't allowed to be selected to undergo special training to join the regiment. However, her experience in the field didn't go unnoticed. She had become proficient in hand-to-hand combat, firearms, and particular cold-blooded assassinations. [A sniper] her special skills in dealing with enemy personnel were also noted and once again it came to the attention of the right people in certain places.

During a briefing at the GHQ in January 2003, Stella was transferred to the 1st Intelligence Battalion, Australian Intelligence Corps and she was ordered to Canberra to act as a liaison to the then commander of a special operations unit being deployed to the Middle East. Her role was more political than Army and brought her to the notice of the then senior officers of ASIO, the Australian Security Intelligence Organisation. Her tour of the Middle East didn't involve any fighting, but she was always armed and ready.

Stella was still in her mid-twenties and was moving into a strange new world. Stella kept this role and after extra study, she was selected to go into a non-commission officer training course, in which she did well without being outstanding, finishing in the top 3% of a class of 37. She was commissioned to the rank of lieutenant. She gradually was recognised within the regiment as a no-nonsense junior officer, friendly without making too many friends. Her social calendar was never full, and her circle of friends was limited to other female junior officers mainly. She was always discrete when entertaining guests in her quarters, which was rare. Any romantic activity was never talked about and no one knew what her sexual preferences were, not that it mattered of course.

She was approached by ASIO just as her tour was about to expire. She did think it was rather strange that her commanding officer spoke to her about her future in the Army, where she wanted to apply her 'special skills'. If she would consider active service? She thought it strange that she was being asked about such things, she knew of course if she was called upon she would go where she was needed.

The following week she was instructed to report to speak to a mister John Smith, a representative from the government. She arrived at the appointed time at an out-of-the-way way government office in suburban Canberra. It was a very small building, typically a government office, there were no signs indicating who or what the building was used for, other than a simple sign on the door that stated 'Department of Infrastructure and Transport'. Her driver pulled up to the curb, as she got out he wound down the window, and asked, "Permission to smoke ma'am?"

"Not in the car Sargent." Came her reply. She smiled and shook her head, she never took up smoking and considered it a dirty, filthy habit, which would end up killing you if you let it.

She walked along the single concrete pathway, winding through bushes and shrubbery. As she approached the door she notice an abundance of CCTV cameras along the front of the building. Each of the windows and the front door had a reflective cover on the all. She pushed on the single glass and aluminium door, but it didn't open.

She pulled then pushed. Nothing.

She heard an electronic mechanism unlatch a locking bolt. The door kicked outwards and she let herself in. The entrance was a small 3-meter square room. There were two doors, one on each side of the room, in the back corner. Neither door had a handle or opening device on them. They were just plain doors. She stood there looking into the solitary CCTV camera placed on the ceiling at the back of the room. An old photo of the Queen hung on the wall. She waited. Within 2 minutes a matronly-looking woman entered via the right-hand doorway. Carrying a vanilla folder marked 'SECRET' in red across it. She smiled, held out her hand and asked "Lieutenant Stella Murphy I presume?"

Stella nodded took her hand and shook it firmly. They eyed each other as their hands held onto each other just as firmly. A contest Stella thought. The woman never offered her name.

"I was told you were a tall woman, they were right. How tall are you?" she asked.

"6 foot 6" in the old language" Stella replied with a faint smile on her lips.

The older woman was only 5ft 8 or 9 and she looked Stella over all the while making mental notes. She finally let go of Stella's hand and stood aside as she pointed to the open door.

"This way please Stella." As she strode away down a long narrow corridor her heels made a solid click-clack as she walked at pace. The plain doors in the corridor had just a simple letter and a four-digit number on each of them. There was no sequence that Stella could make out, the paintwork was typically government regulation which was an off grey if it had to be described. Designed to bore the living daylights out of anyone working there she thought.

They stopped at the door marked J1474. She knocked and the door opened, again there were no door handles. They entered the plain office with the current Prime Minister's photo hanging on the wall.

She knew about ASIO of course, who didn't but had no desire to become a 'spy' as such. What was she doing here, what did the army want her to do she was thinking to herself. Behind a plain single desk set diagonally in one corner sat General, Alfred Higgins. Stella stood at attention, in front of the desk, Saluting the officer, her eyes set hard not moving. The General returned her salute and told to her to stand easy.

He smiled, he had a pleasant manner about him. "Please sit Lieutenant." He instructed her.

He was then handed the folder that the woman had been carrying, he stood behind the desk, opened the folder and sat down slowly. He had read the file many times of course, but this was his way of building up some tension.

"Lieutenant," he stated, "this meeting did not happen, you are somewhere else as we speak. It says so here in your file." He was smiling as he spoke. "You are being transferred to another intel unit, one that is so covert, that only 3 people have heard of it. And we are here in this room."

"What you are about to be told will not ever see the light of day, at any time now or in the future." His smile vanished, as he closed the folder. "You will be going into some special training, which when completed will come with the rank of Major. Your file will then be closed and sealed. In effect, you will die, and be buried and we will all be sad to see you go. Then you will start work."

Stella sat there, not knowing what to think, do or say. Stunned, would be a fitting description.

"Sir," She asked, "Shouldn't I be asked if I want to volunteer for this task, whatever it is?"

"Good point Lieutenant, but no, and you have no time to think it over, we will need your answer before you walk out of this building." He said to her, looking directly into her eyes.

"But first let me tell you why we need a person with your skills. Australia is at war, oh not the traditional type of conflict but a war nonetheless. We know that some insurgent cells are living here already and our information is that they have become active. They are beginning to agitate and it will be a very short while before they take up arms themselves, we need someone who can blend in and act quickly. You come highly recommended."

She was to be seconded to a new branch of ASIO. They needed her special talents.

She held her cap, looked straight at the general and went to stand up. The matronly lady standing behind her placed a firm hand on her shoulder.

Stella didn't try to move.

The General looked at her in silence.

Then pulled open a drawer in the desk, took out a file and laid it open on the desk, so Stella could read the first page.

It was a letter from the Office of the Prime Minister, she read it quickly, and it gave this new branch of ASIO a clear licence to kill, without question.

Stella took six months of intensive physiological training, as well as sharpening her skills in a range of weapons, techniques, languages and cultural understanding of a certain Islamic sect.

Imagine if you will an Australian female version of Jason Bourne, without his hang-ups. This was who Lieutenant Stella Murphy came to be, a cold, hard, empty inside killer.

For three years she was assigned to track and eliminate certain, men, women and a child. It was the child that broke her. She never kept a record of who they were, she would be given a name and a photograph. It was up to her to finish the job. In fact, over those three years, she eliminated 7 men, 3 women and a 13-year-old girl. What she didn't know was that in doing so, she effectively stopped 2 major terrorist attacks here in Australia, one in the Philippines, and one in Indonesia and was responsible for eliminating an imminent threat to the POTUS. The Americans were most grateful.

She resigned her commission and as she no longer existed, she melted away into the Queensland Hinterland, to start her new life as a self-employed truckie. She knew that she was always going to be watched, she knew she was never going to escape their clutches entirely, she knew they would ensure she had plenty of work and that no harm would come to her.

For a long while life was easy. She had money, she had as much work as she wanted, and she was content.

Margarita stumbled into her life quite by accident. It was Bluey, Stella's blue heeler cattle dog, come, companion, come best friend, who found Margarita asleep under a tree, down by the creek. Bluey went and rounded up Stella, to come and see what he had found. The dog was generally wary of strangers but he took to Margarita instantly. The dog knew a good person when he smelt them. He became Margarita's bodyguard, alarm and door chime long before any passing stranger knocked on the front door. During the times Stella was away, Bluey knew what he had to do.

This small, innocent-looking, Pixie-like girl of a woman, captivated Stella's heart. Something about her. Maybe it was the fact that she needed someone to watch over her, Stella wasn't sure what it was, but she made Stella happy. They became lovers after a short time that Margarita or Mags as she was come to be called, was invited to stay and keep house. Their age difference didn't bother either of them. Although neither was experienced with making love to another woman, it came naturally to them.

It was when Stella was away delivering a fully restored Indian motorcycle, that word of Margarita's whereabouts was reported to her abusive father. Unbeknown to the girls, the local grocery delivery driver recognised Mags from her school days, and casually mentioned it to one of her brothers when they were at the pub later in the week. The family was well-liked and respected in Lowood, bury deep in the Queensland hinterland. The truth about the businessman father and his 3 sons was well hidden and most people wouldn't believe the stories about them, even if they were told.

The sighting of little pixie-like Margarita set into motion a chain of events that would end the lives of 5 people. What takes place next, happened quickly, silently and within the space of 2 days.

When Stella was away from her workshop, come farm, come home, she always rang her Margarita 3 times a day. In the morning to say just that, "Good Morning baby." They would talk, for a short while, while, Mags lay in bed with Bluey sleeping at her feet. Sharing the upcoming day's events. Most of the time Stella was driving on her way somewhere, either delivering something or picking up something. She enjoyed sleeping rough, always sleeping in her cabin, and driving long hours to get the job done. In truth, she hated being away from Mags and Bluey. But she did have some work for some people that needed to be done.

She would make it a habit to ring just after lunch, she would stop to stretch her legs and grab a coffee, just to make sure everything was OK. Mags knew to keep her mobile phone on her and well charged, she had missed one call once, just once, and was constantly reminded of it at every opportunity by Stella. She knew what it meant to Stella, and she worried terribly when the phone wasn't answered straight away. Mags did all she could to tell her lover, that she need not worry about her fooling around, that Stella was the love of her life.

Stella always smiled at the thought that Mags thinks she is just jealous, little did she know. Stella never had a jealous bone in her body. All of Stella's fears were man-made.

And in the evening, she would ring around 8 o'clock, to say goodnight, and each time at night, Bluey would make sure he was heard by barking loudly and continuously until Mags let the dog hear Stella's voice.

It was 2 am on a Tuesday when Bluey began to growl. The place was dark, it was a cloudy night, with no moonlight, no stars, the dog lay at the foot of the bed growling. Margarita mumbled in her sleep for him to settle down. She rolled over and fell back to sleep. Out of nowhere, Bluey jumped up barking out of the bedroom window. Margarita sat bolt upright, eyes wide open, any sleep was quickly shaken from her head. The dog ran into the kitchen and was barking and growling at the back door, Mags sat in bed, thinking, listening. Nothing, no sound.

Stella had told her what to do if she was alone, and Bluey went crazy. Well, Bluey was going crazy alright, racing from the front door to the back door. He raced into the two bedrooms, barking angrily at the windows. He was barking crazily at the front bedroom window in particular. Stella had told her that on top of the wardrobe was an old 12 gauge double-barrel shotgun. It was a family heirloom, a Winchester model 21, 1934 model, which Stella kept in pristine condition. Oiled, cleaned religiously and wrapped in a clean, white water-proof wrapper.

Stella had told Margarita that if her life was in danger, to load the gun with the cartridges she kept under the kitchen sink, behind the cleaning rags and gun oils. That if she was going to use it to aim at the biggest part of the animal or person who posed a threat.

Margarita sat in her bed, watching the dog race around the house, not hearing a word or a sound. She was scared. The dog stopped. He lay in the centre of the house, where he could see both the front and back doors and was also watching the bedroom door. His growling receded slowly but he never went back to sleep. Margarita sat petrified in her bed. Looking at the phone, wondering if she should ring Stella. She could still hear Bluey, quietly growling. Stella had told her, to never turn on the lights inside the house. They had talked about putting up some flood lights out the back, with switches in the main house, but Mags said it would be a waste of money, now she wasn't so sure.

She sat there listening and then quietly moved to the window. She felt Bluey brush up against her legs, positioning himself between her and the window. She put her hand down and patted the dog. Bluey responded by pushing his head into her hand. Bluey once again started to growl quietly and this time she heard a noise, then a curse, someone stumbling over and then running. Bluey once again started viciously barking at the sounds in the night.

Margarita ran to the kitchen and under the sink, reached for the box of cartridges, raced back into the bedroom, and her hands reached up to the top of the wardrobe. Even on her tippy toes, she couldn't reach the shotgun she knew was there. She jumped and panicked she screamed and yelled, the dog was going crazy again, she heard a rattling at the back door and Bluey raced to the back door barking and growling, leaping up at the handle and the person outside. The dog then ran to the front door growling and barking, jumping at the door. Mags felt the wrapping and the gun inside, she pulled on the wrapping it moved but not close enough to grab hold of the gun, and she leapt as high as she could and grabbed hold of the stock of the gun, as she heard a window break. The dog was in full attack mode now. Whoever had broken the window was about to be met with a ferocious Australian cattle dog in a full protective manner. The dog had some part of someone trying to get in through the window. The screams and cursing along with the dog growling and tearing at human flesh made Mags work all the faster, the shotgun came off the top of the wardrobe hitting her full in the face, stunning her monetarily. She unwrapped the gun, broke open the barrels and went searching for the shells.

She hear the dog yelping and then going quiet with a sudden thumb as he landed somewhere in the other room. She had the gun loaded and cock when she felt a big hand strike her face. She didn't see who it was and just before she blacked out she heard a familiar voice from her dark past.

"Got you, you bitch." As another fist sent her flying. It was a voice she knew and feared. Her father had found her.