The Marine Bk. 02 Ch. 11

A/N - Hello. So after a rather bittersweet reunion with his younger sister, there's going to be a couple more chapters before I finally start rounding off this series. I have an idea of how I get Nate back to his family but I want to make sure the idea works. There's been a suspension of belief at certain times regarding this story, but I've still tried to ground it all in some sort of reality.

Previous chapters found in the following:

Chapter 1-10, 20: Incest/Taboo

Chapter 11, 13-15: Erotic Coupling

Chapter 12: Interracial Love

Chapter 16: Mature

Chapter 17-18: First Time

Chapter 19: Anal

*****

I'd been back in London for a couple of months after my visit to Berlin. Jennifer knew I'd met with my sister but had no idea I'd told her the truth, and I certainly didn't tell her that I'd spent four to five days being intimate with her. She actually had no real problem with me meeting my sister as I'd done so under my assumed identity. To be honest, if I'd told her that Katie now knew the truth, I doubt she'd have said much. Probably expected it.

The Frenchman that had been taken down was already behind bars in France, the trial having been expedited and his guilt confirmed within a month. He was behind bars, key thrown away. Being a traitor, I'd be surprised to hear he actually served out his entire sentence. France didn't have capital punishment, like most European nations, but that didn't mean they couldn't orchestrate something to happen. The Iranian and his family were now living under new identities in a small Swiss town, parents with new jobs, kids in a new school. My people now offered protection rather than surveillance.

Having been kept in Berlin due to noise coming out of Russia, I was surprised nothing came of it, as I'd expected to be sent back to Berlin or, god forbid, behind enemy lines into Moscow or somewhere else in Russia itself. I had no real idea what the noise was about. No doubt some bullshit about the Ukraine or the Baltic states. I asked Jennifer every so often but she said the situation was being handled otherwise. Guess it meant some other agency, or even another agent. I wasn't told about what other agents were doing.

Since returning from Berlin, I had arrived expecting Jennifer to be a little standoffish, particularly as I had spent at least a week with Charlotte, and Jennifer was aware we'd slept together. But any fears were unfounded. She gave me a day or two to get back into the swing of things, but by the third night, she was at mine for dinner, which turned into her dragging me to my bedroom to make love for a couple of hours.

That was my life for the next couple of weeks. I'd head into work, which was busy as always, keeping my ear to the ground regarding anything important that I might end up dealing with personally. More often than not, anything we found was sent off to the national intelligence services, whether 5 or 6 within the UK, or to military intelligence if it was required. Occasionally we'd send things to organisations like Interpol. Hell, we would even send anonymous messages to countries like Russia or China if it was bad enough. No-one wanted to see the innocent people killed, no matter who they were or where they lived.

Given the state of the world, I'd expected my next assignment to be local in the UK, as shit is always cooking somewhere, and it's not always the enemy you expect. If not the UK, then perhaps France or Germany. Maybe even somewhere in the east. Considering the situation in the Ukraine, with Russian eyes on the Crimea, everyone was still waiting with bated breath. But as Ukraine isn't part of NATO or the EU, no-one thinks it'll start a new European War. Poor bastards are on their own.

I was at the office when I received an encrypted call. That was something that had never happened before. My phone flashed at the same time.

Priority 'Alpha' activated.

"Shit. What the fuck?" I whispered.

My desk phone buzzed. Picking it up, Jennifer started straight away. "An agent has gone missing. Leave immediately. I will meet you at home. Details to follow."

I didn't think about it. I just did it. I generally drove into the office most of the time nowadays so thankfully had my Aston Martin parked up in my garage within a few minutes. Jennifer was already inside by the time I walked in. I'd entered with my sidearm in hand, and I'd aimed it when seeing someone on the couch waiting for me. It was only when recognised her that I lowered and made the weapon safe.

"Details?" I asked.

She handed me a manila folder. "Everything is in there, but the bullet points are. It's Angie, Nate."

"Shit," I muttered, "Where?"

"Central Africa. The boss wants you to handle it. She was monitoring all sorts of crazy shit down there. Too many groups to mention, most based on the usual bullshit. You know, religion, race, ethnic group, or who has the biggest dick. We're not sure who has taken her, not yet, but we've got a good idea where she is."

"Don't suppose she's tracked by GPS?"

"Seems the people who have her are not dumb. They either took or destroyed all her things. Boss wants you on the ground due to your Commando training. Dense jungle and forest, the sort of shit you probably thrive in. French Foreign Legion are already operating in the area. They're willing to assist our efforts. You get Angie back; they take out fuckers who have been a thorn in their side for months."

"I don't care who has her. All that matters is getting her back. I assume she'll have intel we want."

"Yes, though that is secondary. The boss won't tolerate losing an agent." Only now did she take my hand as I was all business. "You're not expendable, Nate, despite what you might sometimes think."

"When am I going?"

"Flight's already booked for tomorrow evening. There are already people on the ground. You'll be taken to a Legion encampment where they'll go over their plan on attack. They know you've got extensive Royal Marine training, so they'll at least listen to anything you have on your mind. The boss wants Angie back in our hands within seventy-two hours."

"Better start..."

"Everything is already there for you, Nate. We have supply cache's everywhere, remember?"

"All my Marine gear?"

"Will be there waiting for you." Kissing my cheek, she whispered, "Now, I need you in bed as, once you've rescued Angie, you'll be debriefing her then staying with her until she can return to her duties. Being a woman, you can only imagine what they might have done or are currently doing to her."

"How long?"

"At least seventy-two hours since she last checked in. The latest report confirmed she was snatched."

"Fuck. Okay, I assume satellites and drones are working hard to track her?"

"The men on the ground when you arrive should have an approximate location. The rest will be up to you upon arrival."

We spent a couple of hours reviewing all the information before I typed up a one-page brief I could take with me. I didn't need a plethora of information to hand. It would all be stored in my noggin. It was late by the time I realised I was starving, so ordered in some take-away for the both of us. Once we'd finished that, and polished off a bottle of wine, Jennifer dragged me to the bedroom to ensure I left Heathrow the next afternoon with a smile on my face.

Landing in N'Djamena after a change at Charles de Gaulle in Paris, I was greeted by a pair of Legion soldiers, though they were not in uniform. Greeting them with a cheery 'Bonjour', the man obviously in charge asked, "Parles-tu français?"

"Oui," I replied.

"Thank God!" he exclaimed in English before switching back to French, "Good that you've come incognito. The commander is preparing for your arrival. We're heading south. The target is further to the south in the DRC."

We made quick introductions before hopping into the beat up motor that would help us blend in. The one in charge was Capitaine Renard. The subordinate was Sergent Duval.

"Why there?" I asked once we were underway, joining the main road south.

"Many groups use the inhospitable regions as bases to prepare their attacks," Renard replied, "Borders are porous. Many governments turn their blind eye if it doesn't affect them. Their soldiers don't mind moving for two, three, four days. It all depends on what they hope to achieve, of course."

"First trip to Africa?" Duval wondered. I nodded, much to their amusement. "Ninety-nine percent of the people, no matter where you go, are absolutely wonderful. It's the one percent that are complete dickheads." It amused me there must not have been on French word for 'dickhead'. I'd learned that even the French loved English swear words.

"Pretty much like anywhere you go," I replied, pausing a beat before adding, "Even France."

They both laughed. "Nah, France is around three percent of dickheads," Duval explained, "And they're all in Paris. Even French people hate those wankers."

"I think we're going to get along just fine. Since you're Legion, I'm assuming you've got men from all over the place?"

"Yes," Renard replied, "Couple of men in from South America. Quite a few from Africa. One or two Europeans. Don't get too many from the east. Many are from our old colonies as it does help if you can speak French when joining. Some still join simply due to the old romantic notion of being a Legionnaire. Of course, it's not really like that now. We don't hold crumbling forts in the desert against restless natives."

Conversation ebbed and flowed as we headed further south, crossing the border into the Central African Republic. We stopped just short of the border into the DRC, turning off the main road and ending up in what seemed to be a makeshift camp. Couldn't help smile, though, as the Legion were there prepared and in force, if necessary.

I was introduced to the commanding officer first, an impressive and imposing man, Commandant Lacroix. After shaking hands, he asked me to settle in first before we'd eat then start making preparations. He'd received intel since I'd landed and an approximation of where Angie was currently located. To ease any concerns, he said further drone flights would be taking every hour for the next twelve. While they couldn't track her individually, they now knew which group had taken her, and from there, they could locate her.

Sitting down for chow after I'd changed into some of my old Marine fatigues, I received more than one curious glance. After hearing one or two remarks in French, I remained focused on my meal as I replied in French. That led to more than one burst of laughter as I was fairly sure everyone recognised my uniform. The only thing lacking were the actual patches signifying I had been an RMCO.

Finishing off my meal, I joined the Commandant in the command tent where I was able to review the latest information. Though in charge, he knew my priority was the retrieval of Angie. He was under orders to destroy the camp and eliminate the enemy, though I knew they'd try and take a prisoner or two where possible.

"As soon as her position is confirmed, we'll leave. The idea is to infiltrate by night after a march through the jungle. Take them completely by surprise," he explained.

"It's what I'd do. How long?"

"Complete your preparations tomorrow. Everything you need is already in your tent. Your people made sure of that."

I started preparations that evening. Despite having not been a Marine for a few years, I still followed most of the practices. My bedroom was always clean and organised. To be honest, my entire townhouse wasn't what I'd call homely. I didn't see the point. I was away often and it was only myself. No point making a home when there was always a chance I'd never return to it.

After breakfast the next morning, I completed preparations, including taking care of my weapon, ammo and the few other things I'd need. The Commandant informed me we'd have official confirmation by early afternoon. As soon as we did, I'd contact my people to confirm the extraction point. I would take everything I would need as, once I'd retrieved Angie, I would be on my own. The Legion would be taking prisoners and bugging out elsewhere. I didn't blame them. I'd thank them for the assist then do my own thing.

As long as Angie was alive.

"Captain Stevens?" Looking up, it was Renard. Jerking his head, he added, "Follow me. The Commandant has the information we need."

We were looking at a two-to-three-day march. No mechanised transport as the enemy camp was over the border, located in dense jungle, and all border crossings were patrolled. We would be operating in a country that did not appreciate foreign interference. The camp was buried in the jungle, one road in and out. Drone imagery told us it was an extensive camp, patrols, towers, and more buildings than I would have thought. We could only guess at enemy strength.

Lacroix glanced at me, speaking in French, as always. "Once we hit the perimeter, the Legion will do what they do best, Captain. You'll be on your own." He pointed at the map. "This is where the command post is. If your agent is anywhere, she'll be in there. No other building suggests prisoners are held within."

"Extraction?" Renard asked.

"I'll call once I have Angie and know her condition. Don't worry about me. You do what you need to do then get out of Dodge."

"Dodge?" Duval asked.

"It's an expression. Basically, get in, get out as best you can. Do we have any sort of air or naval support, Commandant?"

"No. Officially, we're not here nor will we be crossing the border. If we're caught, we're mercenaries. We're on our won."

"Shit," I muttered. I now knew they had been dragged into this.

"We volunteered for the mission," Lacroix admitted. I met his eyes before glancing around the table, everyone else nodding. "We know this group. They're bastards and we know the government over the border turns a blind eye to their operating out of their country. So we volunteered to deal with them. Once your agent was taken, our mission was made priority. Two birds, one stone," he finished in English.

"I'm ready to leave now. Give the word when you're prepared."

Lacroix checked his watch. "We leave in an hour. We'll travel by light until we make the camp. We already have a route through the jungle. It will avoid population centres and we will hopefully not meet anyone on military manoeuvres."

"Sucks to be them if we do," I muttered.

I was glad I brought a pair of worn in boots with me, otherwise marching through jungle would have sucked. Otherwise, it was a case of standard prepping that I'd done time after time, I didn't even need to think about it. It had been a while since I'd carried a Bergan and weapons on a march. I also had to add a few items in the event I found Angie in a bad way. I had some first-aid experience, but if she was in bad condition, I would have to call in assistance.

The march wasn't a problem for anyone. We were all fit, still relatively young men, all of us had taken part in back breaking training, as becoming a Legionnaire was no easy feat. For two days and nights, we marched, chatted quietly, they sang songs in French and even German from time to time, and thankfully we didn't come across another living soul the entire time.

Making camp a couple of kilometres from the enemy encampment, we had a quick briefing about what would happen that night. The Legion would do what they did best. My lone objective was finding Angie. Nothing else mattered.

Getting a little shut-eye was best before nightfall and the time we'd make a move. We'd hit them when most were bunkered down for the evening. The engineers already knew where to hit their power supplies. We'd have the entire camp in darkness within seconds. I'd brought night-vision goggles for that purpose.

"It's time," Duval whispered. I was immediately awake and alert, grabbing my gear to join the others for one last briefing. After shaking hands and whispers of 'Good luck', we moved into position. I was used to working alone nowadays. I did miss being part of a team. Missed leading a team even more, considering all the work and graft I'd put into becoming an officer.

I waited for the Legionnaires to be a nuisance before making my move. They cut lights and power, and once gunfire erupted, to call it chaos would be an understatement. And that's when I made my own move. The enemy was in complete confusion and I saw more than a few drop to the ground dead. I fired my weapon a few times, putting down a couple of men dressed in rags but armed with AK's, no doubt their last thoughts wondering who the fuck I was.

Making it to the building I wanted was easy. I knew it was inside that would prove the issue. Thankfully, I didn't have to do it alone, five Legionnaires making it to my position. "On your go," Renard stated in English.

It was almost like times in Basra, when we'd spend time clearing buildings, enemy strongholds and entire apartment blocks. The enemy was dug in and ready to die. So we just used grenades to flush them out or kill them. The building only had two levels, and with no sign of any cells on the first floor, I left the Legion to clear the second as I looked for a stairway leading underground.

Waiting until gunfire died down, Duval appeared from upstairs, meeting my eyes and nodding. "All clear, Captain," he said, gesturing me to follow, handing me a set of keys at the same time, "There's a trapdoor and a ladder. Your agent is below."

The trapdoor had been covered by a rug. Lifting it back, we lifted the trapdoor, switching on flashlights before we descended the steps. It wasn't a prison, more of a large storage room, but there were three rooms. In the one that was locked, looking through the bars, was Angie.

"You can go, Duval," I muttered, "Give my thanks to the Commandant. I'll handle it from here. Just leave me a jeep or something so I can get away."

He offered his hand, a quick handshake, before he took off.

Angie lifted her sweat and blood stained head at my appearance. Shackled to the walls, at least she was still dressed, though to call them clothes... They were little more than rags. She'd clearly been beaten more than once. Her eyes were wide in surprise when she recognised me.

"You came," she whispered, her voice hoarse.

"The boss sent me to come get you," I replied. It took a couple of minutes to find the right key before I able to undo the shackles around her wrists and ankles. As soon as she was free, she hugged me tightly. She was a tough woman, one of the toughest I knew, but even I understood the tears that flowed. I held her tightly in return. "Let me give you the once over. I've got some supplies."

In addition to bruises were wounds. As I took care of her, I had to meet her eyes. "Did they abuse you?" I had to ask. It was a blunt question. Get it out of the way then move on.

"No. There were the usual threats. You know, they'd share me with all the men. I'd be strung up and fucked like a whore. But no, they kept me alive as they wanted what's in my head. Information."

"Who were they?" Hearing 'were' made her smirk. "The men I was with? French Foreign Legion. Those boys don't fuck around either. It's late evening. Half of them were drunk. The only better time would have been before dawn tomorrow morning. I wasn't going to wait that long, Angie."

"Thank you, Nate."

I kissed her cheek. "I'd have come with or without orders as soon as I was told," I whispered, "I never got to say goodbye. So who were they?"

"Clearly not Islamists considering the drinking. Or they're not as devoted as they claim. Honestly, Nate, there are so many groups in this area of the world, it's hard to figure out. But this lot had me alive for a reason but never told me. I was just interrogated again and again, numerous different questions about operations in the region. I have a feeling they were working on behalf of other groups, not just themselves."