The Marine Bk. 02 Ch. 02

A/N -- As noted at the start of the previous chapter, I'm branching out into other categories. Giving another category a go for the first time.

To help those following this series, I'll start noting which category the previous chapters were in, and at the end of the chapter, I'll inform you in which category the next chapter should appear.

Chapters 1-10: Incest/Taboo

Chapter 11: Erotic Coupling

*****

I sat opposite the Director in his office. While it looked plush, the fact it lacked a window or two showing some scenery meant it lacked any real warmth. Instead, it was all wood panelling, a few pictures and works of art, an enormous bookcase. He noticed me glance around. "You get used to it, Captain."

"I'm guessing I'll lose that rank soon enough too."

He nodded, passing me across one folder. I opened it, not surprised to see paperwork that suggested they knew nearly my entire life. I flicked through it, all the way from my birth back home in Australia, they had my school records, my scores while training to be a Royal Marine, then all the commendations I'd received during my service.

"As you'd expect, we know all about you, Nate. We only recruit those we know will say yes, and who we know will go the extra mile to ensure our objectives are met." He passed over one last piece of paper. "This is your death certificate."

It was weird holding a piece of paper that said I was dead. "So what happened to 'my body'?"

"The cover story is that you were, putting it bluntly, obliterated. There wasn't enough of you to bury. Sure you want to know?" I nodded. "An empty coffin was returned to the United Kingdom. From there, it was ensured that it will be repatriated to Australia so your family can at least bury you."

I sighed. "Fuck..."

He stood up and disappeared from view, returning a couple of minutes later, sliding a glass of liquor across the table. "Trust me, this is the hardest part, Nate. Saying goodbye to your old life and everything you once knew. I'm sorry you couldn't say goodbye, and it probably feels like you've just abandoned everyone you love, but it's to protect your family. If our enemies ever discovered what we did, and what we were capable of, not only would we be in danger, but they'd have no problem going after anyone you care about."

I nodded in understanding before placing the paperwork inside the folder and sliding it back to him. "Guess I'd better get used to my new identity."

He took the folder with my old identity and placed it into his desk. He then slid a second folder over the desk. "Your name going forward is Nicholas Stevens. I'm guessing you'd probably like to be known as 'Nick', but that's up to you. Your entire background is within. The one thing we've had to take into account is your Royal Marines tattoo. One of the many things you'll need to perfect here is an accent. Nicholas Stevens is a British national, so you'll have to lose the Australian accent. You've obviously conversed with Jennifer quite a bit. Doesn't sound German right?"

"Not at all."

"She went for a bland accent that gave no hint to where she is from."

"True. Didn't have her picked as a Yank or a Brit. Certainly not where I'm from."

He passed a third folder across. "Nick Stevens will be your main identity. However, every agent in the field will have a second identity. A main alias. Your one is within this second folder. Leave it for later, learn about Nick and get used to being called by that name first. But ensure you know your second alias as well as if not better than Nick. It might just save your life." I nodded again, understanding what he meant. "In addition to these two names, everyone agent is given a codename. No agent is to divulge this codename to anyone. The name will only be known by two people. Yourself, and me. Your colleagues will not know your codename. Jennifer will not know it either. Codenames are based on the NATO phonetic alphabet. You will receive your codename when you pass training."

"I understand."

He leaned back and sipped at his drink. "You slept with her already."

"Uh... Yeah..."

"I'm sure it was mentioned I frown upon such things?"

"So I was told."

He smirked. "I don't. The only warning I have is that your sex life doesn't interfere with your training or with your operations should you end up working out in the field. Ninety-nine-point-nine percent of the time, the people who work for me can separate professional from personal, though I'm sure it's already been explained the sort of people we recruit." His smirk turned into a smile. "Your personal life is interesting, Nick. No judgement here, just a passing interest."

"Well, I guess that's all over now anyway," I muttered.

"I am sorry, and I do truly mean that. You're the first recruit with siblings in a few years, but once your name reached my ears, and I saw your record, I had to offer you the chance."

"I understand."

He looked at the wrist on his watch. "Chow time for the new recruits will be in half an hour. Head to your room, meet your roommate, get to know her. You'll all be working closely together, but we've tried to match personalities together. All twelve of you are the best of the best, and while you'll try to beat each other, we also want harmony. The last thing we need is egos getting in the way."

Standing up, I took both folders and was ready to walk out when he called my name. "One last thing, Nick. I know how demanding passing as a Royal Marines officer was for you, and I also know you've probably seen more shit than the other eleven since you were sent to Northern Ireland for your first deployment. I'll be rather disappointed if you wash out in the end."

I couldn't help smirk. "I'll try not to disappoint you, sir."

The place seemed to be a labyrinth, but there were small signs pointing where everything was. From what I'd already learned, there was an entire accommodation wing for everyone who worked at the facility. There was also a small sign where I was quartered, the name of my roommate above mine. Walking in, I was greeted by the sight of a black woman sitting on her bed, massaging one of her stockinged feet. She glanced my way, a pair of rather soft brown eyes, looking me up and down more than once, then she grinned.

Standing up, she offered her hand. "You're Nate, right?"

I took her offered hand. "I was Nate. Now I'm Nicholas, though definitely already preferring Nick."

"Ah, that's right. Well, I was Annabelle, or Anna. Now I'm Angelina. I'm thinking Angie."

"Angie works much better."

I took a seat opposite on my bed. "Australian, right?" she asked.

I couldn't help grin. "Yeah, guess the accent is a dead giveaway. I'm picking you as a Yank, I just don't know where."

"Well, Annabelle was from Chicago. I haven't really looked into the contents of my folder yet. Still all a bit of a shock to the system, to be honest."

"What did Annabelle do before she ended up here?"

"I was with the FBI. According to my old file, I was killed in a shootout taking down a national drug lord. Heroic death, that sort of thing. You?"

"Royal Marines Commando Officer. I was picked up in Iraq... I think two to three days ago? I've lost track of time. I'm also dead, died saving my squad. Blown to bits, apparently."

She nodded. "Trying not to think about it too much. But if it's all about keeping the family safe."

"Only child?" She nodded. "Yeah, I was told I'm the only one recruited who had siblings."

"Oh, I'm sorry."

I shrugged. "Thanks. Nothing can be done about it now. I chose to do this. I'll give it some thought over the coming days, then I'll just have to forget about it and move on. Nick Stevens is an only child from what I've read so far."

"Hungry? I'm starving, and I think they're going to be pushing us from early tomorrow."

"Yeah, let's get some grub."

Leaving our room, we joined the other recruits and staff in the canteen. It had the feeling of a school or workplace cafeteria, though the food seemed to be much better than what you'd get elsewhere. The recruits all sat together at one long table and it didn't take long for us to start feeling each other out. While we chatted, I looked around for Jennifer, noticing she was sat at another table. I figured she sat with those who would be assisting the other recruits. She glanced my way and winked.

It was easy to figure out that everyone was confident in their abilities but they knew the next however many months, even years, would put all we knew to the test, and we'd no doubt have our bodies and minds pushed to the absolute limit. It was easy to figure out we'd be shown everything there was to do with espionage. I'd been recruited by a spook. The Director was your archetypal spook-in-charge. We were surrounded by spooks and those who helped spooks do what spooks do best.

Yeah, I was going to become a spy. Or no doubt some sort of bullshit 'Counter-Terrorism Operative' designation or some other meaningless jargon filled title.

A fucking spy!

Cool.

After we'd finished dinner, I needed a shower as I hadn't enjoyed one since I'd left Germany. I spent at least twenty minutes under the hot water, scrubbed myself until I felt raw, and only then did I finally step out. I put on a pair of shorts before walking into my quarters. Angie was already lying back on her bed having changed. She lowered the book she was reading and her eyes definitely drank me in.

"Well, I approve. Walk around without a shirt all you want."

I snorted in humour as I folded up my clothes. I'm figuring someone would take care of laundry. I'd have to ask the next morning. Angie gestured to the wardrobes between us. "You'll find some clothing in there. The sort of stuff we'll need to wear when training. I have a feeling they already knew our sizes. This shirt fits perfectly."

Lying back on my bed, I was glad it was comfortable though figured I wouldn't be doing a lot of sleeping. If it was anything like commando training, I'd come to love every second I could spend in a warm bed. "You been told much about what we're going to face?"

She lowered her book again. "No, the guy who was assigned to me didn't tell me too much. I think they were told not to so we're not overawed by it all. Guess we'll find out in the morning."

"You recruited by a proper spook?"

That made her laugh. "It was like something out of a movie."

"Same here. I was ready to start looking around for cameras and a script writer."

"You hesitate?"

"Honestly, not really. Gave me around twelve to eighteen hours to think about it. I guess they don't want to give you too long."

"I was bored with my role. Little chance of promotion at the office I was working, but I didn't really want to leave Chicago. I'm still trying to figure out what they see in me, but I'm not going to complain. I guess making a good couple of collars in the past few years drew some attention." She glanced my way. "Six of you are definitely soldiers, though. Guess they won't need to focus on the physical too much with you."

"I'm not particularly good at subterfuge. I'm more a 'Call in an airstrike on those fuckwits over there' kind of guy."

"Well, that's what they'll teach you then, Nick. A softly, softly approach."

"So instead of shooting a guy, I'll snap his neck?"

"Well... Maybe..." She met my eyes and laughed. "I think we're going to have a lot of fun together, Nick."

I'll be honest, I was already hoping she meant more than one type of fun together. She was definitely cute. Black hair, lovely pair of brown eyes, flawless brown skin. Shirt covered what I figured were a pair of small breasts. And she definitely had a great pair of legs. I wasn't exactly a leg man, but I appreciated a fine pair when I saw them. She noticed me checking her out and grinned.

"I've got a great arse too, Nick. Try to keep your tongue in your mouth."

"Sorry."

"Don't be. It's nice to be appreciated, and considering what we're looking at... Well, good thing I don't mind white men." That made me give her a look, definitely of surprise. Being an outsider, I knew little of any cultural or race issues in the United States. "Well, my father is... Well, he was white, so... Actually, I'm going to stop there, otherwise it's going to sound like I have daddy issues."

"If you want to call me daddy..."

She cracked up in laughter. "Yep, we're definitely going to have a good time through all this."

I was awake at 0600 the next morning. Didn't even need an alarm. Angie struggled as the door was opened and we were ordered out of bed to shower, dress, eat and be ready for training to start at 0630. Angie grumbled all the way through, claiming she only woke at 0700. "How the fuck are you so cheerful?" she asked me at breakfast.

"Please, 0600 is a sleep in for me most of the time. Certainly would be when I'm in Iraq. I actually feel weird when I get a full eight hours."

"Where were you fighting?" I was asked. I knew his new name was Mike and he'd been in the Rangers.

"Royal Marines are or were down in Basra. I know the tour I was on should have been the last before the UK started pulling their forces out. Most of our work was around there and southern Iraq. Did one tour of Afghanistan in Helmand. That's a clusterfuck and a half."

"Yeah, Baghdad was fucked," another American stated. His new name was Steven, but he had been a Green Beret, "It's why I jumped at this chance when it was offered. Get on the front foot against the fuckers."

We chatted about the state of the world for a few minutes before we assembled in front of the Director. He wasted no time getting into the nitty-gritty of what we'd be doing for the next eighteen months. And he was blunt in what we would face. No holidays. No weekends. Early mornings. Long days. Late nights. We already had skills. Those we had would be enhanced. Those we lacked would be focused on intensely.

"In eighteen months, you will be ready to head out into the world for your first assignments. That doesn't mean your training is finished. In this role, you never stop learning. Our enemies change, learn, improve. We must remain a step ahead at all times. The most important relationship you will have once you leave here will be with your handler. For the time being, they will only be here to observe. Soon enough, you will be tied at the hip, figuratively speaking. Your skills will keep you alive, but your handler will ensure you have the tools necessary to say alive at the same time."

Within a week, I was physically fine but it was mentally exhausting. They split all of us into small training groups, focusing on what needed improving. Considering I was fit as a fiddle and had plenty of weapons training, I was pretty much sent into espionage and counter-surveillance training. Ever watched a Bond film? That's just bullshit. Entertaining, but bullshit. Jason Bourne? Eh, you're getting closer, I guess. Every night, I was to learn a language while I slept. I always thought that was bollocks, but within a month, I had a rudimentary grasp of Spanish. And I was expected to learn at least half a dozen languages. Fluently.

Fun times.

Angie thought she was fit until she arrived. For the first fortnight, she arrived back to our quarters dead on her feet. The first couple of days, her legs practically seized up and I helped carry her to the showers. "How the fuck did you handle your training?" she wondered one night as we relaxed back.

"I spent almost three years preparing for it," I replied, "Even then, it was still nothing compared to the reality of trying to become a Royal Marines Commando. Not only are we trained killers, but I reckon we're some of the fittest people on the planet."

"Yes, I've noticed the exercise regime when you wake in the morning. I get worn out just watching you."

"I barely think about it nowadays. I wake up, stretch, then just do it. Automatic pilot. Still waking up half the time. Feel better for it though. I don't want to lose the base fitness I've kept for the past... however many years it's been. Almost forget how old I am nowadays."

The only way we kept up to date regarding the time of year was whenever we had the chance to check the bank of screens as we were kept abreast of what was happening around the world. We'd sit once a week and discuss issues, then spitball on how we'd solve it.

Throughout all this, Angie and I would wake up together, eat breakfast with the others, sometimes spend all day together training, other times not see each other all week except when waking, eating, or getting ready for bed, but she was easily my closest friend, if one considered colleagues you worked with friends. But even when exhausted at the end of another long week, we'd still manage to chat about anything that came to mind.

"Nick, can I ask a rather personal question?" she asked one night, probably around three months in.

"Angie, we pretty much know everything about each other but..."

"You jerked off lately?"

I laughed. "Okay, wasn't expecting that question. I'll be honest. I usually do it in the shower." I glanced in her direction. "You suffering in silence, Angie?"

"I haven't done anything since I got here," she said quietly, "The idea of frigging myself senseless in the shower isn't appealing."

"Fucking what? Seriously?"

"It's not you, Nick. I know you wouldn't make a big deal about it or make me feel awkward if I did it in bed. But... Well... It would be weird masturbating in the same room as a man who... Well..."

I turned onto my side to face her. I was amused to see a little colour in her cheeks. "You suggesting something, Angie?"

"Well, would you rather have someone to have a little fun with rather than jerk off?"

"I think I can speak for all men that we'd rather have someone to have fun with rather than use our hand. You'd prefer a man rather than your fingers?"

"What do you think about me, Nick?"

"You're fucking gorgeous, Angie."

I watched her plant her feet on the floor and quickly move across to my bed, amused when she immediately straddled my lap, taking off her shirt. I grinned my approval as she leaned forward, resting a hand to either side of me. "Ever slept with a black girl, Nick?"

"Nope. Just so you know, it's never been one of those bucket list things either. Oh, I must sleep with a black woman, an Asian woman, a Latina, et cetera. If I find you attractive, if there's that spark, then maybe we'd end up in bed together."

"You ever think about me when jerking off?"

Chuckling, I nodded. "I'll confess, you've found your way into my imagination these past couple of months. Considering we basically live together in some sort of weird match up." I reached up to caress her cheek, watching the grin on her face broaden. "Don't have the softest of hands but..." I gently pulled her down to kiss her. She had very soft lips and her breath was minty fresh. Must have brushed her teeth before returning to the room. Maybe she'd planned it all along. I wasn't going to worry about it though.

My fingers found their way down her back towards her bra, taking that off with one hand to reveal a small pair of breasts, B-cup at most, dark nipples that were already pointing out. Rolling her onto her back, I helped pull off the shorts she was wearing to leave her in only a black pair of panties. I looked her body up and down, definitely approving of what I could see.

"You're dropdead fucking gorgeous, Angie. You hide your body well with those clothes you wear."

"Take off my panties," she whispered. I pulled them off nice and slowly, fingers also running along her smooth legs, smiling as she parted her legs. "I shaved my kitty in the shower earlier. I came in with the intent of sleeping with you, Nick," she whispered, "I'm thinking there's nothing wrong with having a little fun from time to time. We know we won't end up working together. And I see how you and Jennifer look at each other."