"Beach House" ( from SilencedSentryYahoo)

[esercito sconfitto]

The Beach House

The young blonde lay on the lounger and scanned the beach below, her lower legs raised and swinging gently back and forth. Through the binoculars she could keep track of nearly all the sentries at the house. To any normal person it seemed like a large beach house being used by a group of extremely sexy young women for a relaxing vacation. Right now two of them sunbathed on the terrace, their skimpy bikinis exposing as much of their smooth skin to the sun’s rays as possible without being completely naked. Of course, no-one would suspect they were two highly trained agents – a fact that would become apparent if they were to look under the towels that lay next to each woman and saw the silenced submachine guns hidden there. The blonde knew there were more in the house and round the back, out of sight of her, were another pair.

The radio in her left hand crackled as two of the house’s occupants exchanged brief, terse words. The blonde noted them but didn’t reply – her role was as observer and she would only use her radio if she detected anything out of the ordinary. The commander kept things running smoothly through the implementation of strict discipline; it would be all too easy to let your guard down in this idyllic location so she kept each of her girls on their toes.

At least that was the theory. Unfortunately it was one that the blonde was about to prove wrong. She didn’t hear the young agent approach behind her, silenced pistol in her hand. As she stared out through the binoculars she was unaware of the dark-haired beauty admiring her toned, tanned body, barely covered by the gold thong bikini.

The intruder silently leaned forward and extended her arm. The tip of the silencer was inches from the back of the blonde’s head, which was covered by a wide-brimmed hat. The intruder squeezed the trigger and the.22 bullet punched through the woman’s skull just behind her right ear. She sighed gently and her head slumped forward, her left arm flopping limply over the edge of the lounger, the radio held in her hand even in death. Her assailant reached over her body and plucked the radio from her hand. She adjusted the frequency and clicked the radio on.

“Observation point neutralised. Commence the attack.” She sat down next the dead blonde and picked up the binoculars. She would enjoy watching her two colleagues work.


Jasmine took the headphones from what appeared to be her iPod out of her ear and put them back into her canvas bag. She stood and adjusted her pink bikini that held her large breasts in place behind two flimsy triangles of lycra. Then she reached up and made sure her long, ash-blonde hair was properly secured before setting off towards the beach house. Behind her, another young woman passed by and picked up the bag before taking up her position as cover in case something went wrong.

The front of the house was lightly covered, due to the supposedly safe surveillance in place just across the street. The upmarket, expensive street was quiet. Jasmine approached the front gates and, after a quick look around, quickly scaled the tree next to the low front wall and leapt over into the garden. She landed softly and darted off to her left. A redhead in black lycra shorts and sports bra was stretching in preparation for her morning run. Jasmine silently got close behind her and coiled her arms around the woman’s neck and head. The startled woman grunted, her hands shooting up to pry her attacker off but Jasmine was too strong. She also wasn’t in any mood to play around and mercilessly kept the pressure on the woman, forcing her into unconsciousness in a matter of seconds.

The limp redhead flopped around in Jasmine’s grasp as she kept the sleeper applied and dragged her into the shadows of a collection of bushes. She was unceremoniously dumped onto the dirt, landing on her back, her head rolled to one side with a thin sliver of drool sliding from her bottom lip. Jasmine knelt next to her, a hand idly massaging the woman’s breast while she surveyed the garden. As expected, there were no more guards here. Jasmine stealthily crept towards the side entrance.


On the private beach at the front of the house two bikini-clad women soaked up the sun. One was on her front, her bikini top undone to ensure an even tan. The other lay propped up on her lounger, looking out to sea through expensive designer shades. Both were striking blondes and both had bags next their loungers that were larger than one would have thought necessary given that they were less than 20 metres from the house.

Unfortunately for her the blonde failed to notice the powerfully built woman in the black bikini top and lycra shorts as she snuck up from her left side. The silenced pistol in the woman’s hand uttered a muted hiss and a tiny red spot appeared just above the blonde’s left ear. The blonde barely moved, except to twitch reflexively in death.

Holstering the pistol, the auburn-haired assassin circled round behind the other woman. She smiled and decided on the perfect course of action. With surprising speed and dexterity she straddled the woman, sat down across her lower back, pulled the bikini top up and wrapped it tightly around her throat. Her muscles rippled as she pulled hard on the tiny top. The blonde beneath her was hopelessly trapped. She flailed about but her movements were restricted by the heavy weight of the woman bearing down on her. A rushing sound filled her head, her fingers, toes and lips began to tingle and her vision began to dim. She looked round and caught a glimpse of her partner seemingly resting on her lounger. Just as her vision faded completely she saw the sightless eyes staring over the top of the sunglasses.

Naomi, the expert agent, kept the pressure up for a minute after the blonde’s struggles ceased. When she released the top the woman’s face was an ugly blue and her tongue protruded from her slightly parted lips. Naomi pulled the bikini free and let it fall to the sand. Then she stood and arranged the body to look as though it was asleep. Finally, she turned to the woman she had shot and pushed the sunglasses further up to cover her eyes. With the front of the house secure she proceeded inside.


Jasmine was already inside. The side door opened into the kitchen, which was empty. It didn’t look like it would remain that way for long. The fridge door was open and three glasses stood on the counter, ice cubes slowly melting in the bottom. A shadow crossed in front of the kitchen door and Jasmine hastily ducked back through the side door, leaving it slightly ajar so she could peer inside.

A petite blonde in a pink bikini entered carrying a bottle of vodka, her long hair held in a long plait that hung down between her shoulders. Jasmine shook her head – it was so unprofessional to drink on the job. The blonde put the bottle down and turned to the fridge, her back to Jasmine. She took her chance. Three long strides were enough to position her behind her target and a quick, slashing chop of her hand on the back of the blonde’s neck elicited a quiet grunt before the young woman’s consciousness was taken from her. Jasmine caught her as she fell and dragged the mercenary away into a storage room just off the kitchen. She lowered the woman to the floor and ran a hand approvingly over the tanned skin before she stood to continue her mission.

Her main target was upstairs. Naomi had been tasked with dealing with the ground floor and the basement. The hallway beyond the kitchen was empty; the dining room and living room on this floor had their doors closed so Jasmine ran up the stairs. The upstairs hallway was also empty and Jasmine headed straight for the bathroom. She didn’t want to take any chances without proper backup. She needed to get her bearings.


Naomi had no such problems. The glass doors leading into the living room were open. She crouched by the wall and glanced inside. A young blonde in a pink bikini was just leaving but there were still two women in the room. A tall brunette in black lycra shorts and sports bra was sprawled out on a leather couch while an older black woman in a matching outfit flicked through the TV channels. With the blonde possibly returning at any moment Naomi had to make her move. She snuck into the room, staying low. She hadn’t been seen yet. She slipped the knife from her belt and approached behind the black woman. The brunette on the couch seemed half-asleep but Naomi knew that the moment she attacked that would change.

A powerful arm hooked under the black woman’s head and pulled her up out of the seat. Before she could cry out Naomi thrust the stiletto into the woman’s back, which was now exposed above the chair. A deft twist of the blade ended the woman’s life before she could fight back and Naomi was already leaping towards the brunette before the dead woman had settled back in her chair.

The brunette was alert and awake quickly, but made a fatal mistake. She twisted to grab her gun that was propped up against the side of the couch. Her fingers brushed against the cold metal just as a great weight landed on her back. She felt her arm go numb.

Naomi straddled the brunette who was now helplessly pinned beneath her, lying face first on the couch with her right arm immobilised by her fingertip strike against the nerve cluster in her bicep. Naomi forced the woman’s head forward, exposing the back of her neck. The brunette thrashed about, trying to dislodge Naomi. Naomi calmly slid the stiletto into the yielding flesh behind the brunette’s right ear. The brunette tensed and then relaxed, a sigh passing her lips as her last breath escaped.

Naomi slowly stood up, slipping the knife from her victim back into the sheath strapped to her leg. She flipped the brunette over and arranged one arm by her side, the other across her stomach. She repositioned the head on the armrest so anyone glancing inside would think she was asleep. The ebony-skinned sentry had the TV remote put back into her lifeless grasp. That should do it, Naomi thought.

Had Naomi been a few seconds quicker dealing with her sentries she would have seen her agency colleague sprinting up the stairs and disappearing into the bathroom. As it was she found herself in an empty hallway with the dining room directly opposite her. She could hear movement and it sounded as if someone was putting plates and cutlery on the table. Naomi glanced at her watch – early lunch.

Subtlety was never her strongest point so she decided a direct approach was best. She knocked on the door and then ducked back into the living room. She heard the door open and a woman’s voice call out: “Hello? Very funny guys.” Then the woman walked into the living room, right past Naomi who sprang up behind her, wrapping her powerful arms around the woman’s neck, covering her mouth to stifle her screams. The woman’s face was hidden by her mass of black hair which was piled on top of her head.

Looking down, Naomi realised the woman was dressed in a French maids’ outfit – probably doubled up as the home help and part of the “recreation” facilities, just like the masseuse upstairs. “I hope you speak English,” Naomi muttered. “I’m going to ask you a question and you’re going to answer very quietly. Try to shout out and I’ll snap your neck. Tell me what I want to know and you’ll live. Now, how many in the basement?” She removed her hand.

“Just two. Please, don’t kill-“ She was cut off by Naomi’s hand over her mouth.

Naomi started to move back towards the dining room. Her captive struggled. “Relax,” Naomi whispered soothingly, “I’m not going to hurt you. Just relax and it’ll be OK.”

The maid stopped struggling, allowing Naomi to drag her back into the dining room. Then the powerful agent flexed her muscles and the hand covering the maid’s mouth grabbed her chin and twisted her head to one side. There was a dull crunch and the maid went limp – dead. Naomi let the maid slip to the floor with a cruel smile.

It turned out the door at the bottom of the stairs in the basement was locked by a keycard. That hadn’t been in the plans Naomi had seen of the house. She looked through the small window in the door and saw a large room beyond, probably about half the size of the house above. A row of six bunks took up the first half of the room. Computer equipment covered the far wall, with several computer terminals set up, no doubt for monitoring and collating intelligence for the mercenaries’ operations. The wall to her left contained rows of weapons, locked behind toughened glass. There were enough to start a small war, but thankfully getting to the quickly was impossible. That would even the odds. A small area had been cordoned off to her right – showers by the looks of things. The maid had given her accurate information. There were two women here. One sat at the far end of the room at the computers while another sat on the end of one of the bunks.

Naomi returned to the two dead sentries in the lounge. With a certain amount of relish she sat on the arm of the couch and slipped her hand inside the brunette’s sports bra. She was slightly disappointed to find a keycard stuffed inside the first cup she searched – she’d have much preferred to have to perform a more thorough search. Leaving the room she returned to the basement.

The card worked and Naomi waited at the door. She could probably take both women out easily enough – they seemed to be unarmed. The problem was that there was almost certainly an alarm somewhere in the room, probably by the computer terminals. With the security door and the facilities down here, Naomi figured it was probably a panic room of some kind where the mercenaries could retreat to and call in reinforcements if necessary.

As she watched and tried to formulate a strategy the woman at the computer turned round, forcing her to duck beneath the window in case she was spotted. After a moment she risked a quick look into the room. The computer operator was heading for the showers, peeling off her tight-fitting fatigues as she went. Naomi smiled. Sometimes you needed a bit of luck.


Upstairs Jasmine was having a similar problem. The bathroom was a safe enough place to hide, but se needed to get past the sentries to get to her target. There were two on the terrace and intelligence suggested the leader of the group would be attended to by a masseuse in the master bedroom on the opposite side of the house from the terrace.

She heard movement from the terrace. Someone was getting up. Then she heard a voice, faint but still audible from her hiding place.

“The others should have been up here by now,” the voice said. “I’m going to see what’s keeping them. Patty, you stay here.”

The glass door to the terrace slid back and Jasmine tensed. A shadow passed under the door and she quickly, but quietly, pulled it open. A powerful woman in tight black lycra shorts and tank top stood with her back to her, her long black hair tied back in a ponytail. She began to turn, sensing someone behind her. Jasmine let her turn halfway before she delivered a fingertip strike at the base of her spine. The woman immediately slumped to her knees, grabbing the handrail at the top of the stairs to try to keep herself upright. In one fluid movement Jasmine straddled to stricken woman, her leg deftly sweeping the woman’s hand away and causing her to fall onto all fours. Then Jasmine’s thighs locked around the sentry’s head and she squeezed, crossing her ankles as she supported herself on the handrail.

The sentry’s hands thrashed and flailed about uselessly, grabbing at Jasmine’s smooth thighs. The agent tensed her muscles and twisted her hips slightly. The increase in pressure caused an immediate reaction in her victim, who stopped trying to break free and slumped uselessly between Jasmine’s legs, desperately fighting to stay conscious, soft gurgling and gagging noises escaping her lips. Jasmine laughed softly and reached down to stroke the top of the woman’s head. The brunette’s breathing slowed and her hands and legs gave way. Jasmine held her between her thighs for a few moments longer, gently releasing the pressure so as not to shock the woman back awake. When she eventually slid to the floor her ass remained pointed straight up in the air. Jasmine smiled and slapped the pert ass on the way towards the terrace.

The woman previously identified as Patty lay on a lounger on the terrace, a blue one-piece swimsuit covering her lithe body. Her blonde hair was tied back and she was reading a glossy magazine, her gun by the lounger. She stood as Jasmine stepped onto the terrace.

“Hey Irina,” she began, turning to face Jasmine. She stopped when she realised it wasn’t her companion in front of her.

Jasmine smiled sweetly, then delivered a swift right cross to Patty’s jaw, spinning the blonde right round with a soft grunt. Her eyes rolled up and she collapsed in the corner, sliding down the wall and landing heavily on her ass; her arms falling to her sides, palms up; her head lolling forward onto her chest. Jasmine walked up to her and knelt down. She lifted an eyelid and, seeing only white, knew the woman was out for a long time. She kissed her forehead and moved on. That took care of all the sentries.


All but two, anyway. Naomi waited until she heard the hiss of water flowing from the shower room before sneaking inside the basement. Her fingers curled around the lead-filled blackjack strapped to her thigh and she slowly raised it as she came up behind the woman on the edge of the bunk. Her short hair had been died blonde, almost white, and a tattoo spiralled up from beneath the tight fatigues and up her neck, the centre of one spiral forming the perfect target for Naomi’s weapon. She brought the blackjack down hard. There was barely a grunt as she fell forward onto the concrete floor, sprawling full length on her front. Naomi jumped over the bed and landed next to her. She hit her again, to make sure.

Steam was already pouring from the shower when Naomi walked into it. The computer operator was naked, her hands running through her long auburn hair, which cascaded down between her shoulders. She had her back to Naomi. The young sentry didn’t even have time to feel the enemy agent’s hands on her head and chin before Naomi neatly snapped her neck from behind. She sighed and flopped to the floor. Naomi left the water running and headed upstairs.


The door to the bedroom opened. The masseuse stepped into the hallway, the door gently swinging shut behind her. She saw Irina unconscious on the floor and opened her mouth to scream. Jasmine reached out from her position by the door and pressed two fingers into the masseuse’s neck. The scream died on her lips and Jasmine caught her as she fell, instantly rendered unconscious by the nerve pinch. The masseuse was dragged into the bathroom and Jasmine quickly stripped the crisp white uniform from her, taking enough time to enjoy the woman’s body Once the outfit was removed it revealed expensive silk lingerie beneath. Jasmine put the uniform on over her lycra outfit and took a deep breath.

The bedroom was dark, with the curtains closed. Jasmine saw her target on the bed. She was lying on her front. Jasmine sat down on the bed and put her hands on the woman’s shoulders. She tensed slightly and then relaxed as she felt the skilful fingers massaging her.

“I thought we were finished for today Jessie,” the woman mumbled as she shifted on the bed, getting more comfortable. She was blonde, late twenties and Jasmine could tell from her fingers on the woman’s back that’s he was incredibly well toned.

Jasmine continued down her back, eliciting a soft sigh of pleasure as she pushed the sheets away to reveal white silk panties covering a firm ass. She smiled appreciatively and then resolved to complete her mission – it didn’t pay to lose concentration this late in the game. She changed the motion of her hands slightly and pressed firmly in the small of the woman’s back. She felt a slight tension and then it disappeared as her fingers did their work.

“Ungh – Jessie, what…” The mercenary leader realised she couldn’t move. She couldn’t even turn her head to see what was happening.

“Shh,” Jasmine said, brushing the hair away from the blonde’s cheek. “I’m not Jessie. She’s OK though, which is more than I can say for you. My superiors would like to have a little chat.” Then Jasmine pressed her fingers against another nerve cluster in the woman’s jaw, preventing her from speaking.

With calm, cool efficiency she took the woman’s arms and used the belt from a silk robe to tie them tightly behind her back. Then she flipped the semi-naked woman over and looked down into her terrified eyes. She slipped one hand over her large breasts and then under the silk panties.

“Time for a little nap,” she said. “It’s been fun.”

Her fingers found a nerve cluster at the base of the leader’s neck and squeezed. The blonde tensed and Jasmine slid a finger inside her captive’s wet pussy just as her eyes fluttered closed and she relaxed with a long sigh.

Jasmine remained sitting next to the woman, her hand against her crotch, until Naomi entered. The assassin took one look at her agency colleague and shook her head. She turned and walked across to the terrace and looked up at the house across the street. She raised her hand briefly and then walked back inside. The mission was over and the clean-up crew were on their way.

Ten minutes later the private beach outside the house had been cordoned off and a series of 4x4 trucks sat on the sand. Two groups of bodies had been laid out. One were Jasmine’s victims, all still unconscious and they were being bound and carried to the various vehicles. The other group were being put into bodybags, victims of Naomi’s attentions.

The two agents had just finished their field debrief and sat in the back of one of the trucks. Jasmine, now back in just her bikini, looked out across the bodies.

“It’s not necessary, you know?” she said.

“What?” Naomi asked absent-mindedly. “Oh, the bodies,” she shrugged.

“You could have just knocked them out,” Jasmine insisted.

“I like to be sure,” Naomi said, turning to face Jasmine, her features darkening in anger. “What’s it to you? This is war. People die.”

“It’s such a waste. Plus, it lacks class, finesse.”

Naomi laughed. “Yeah, right. Don’t try to act all superior.”

“Someone should put you in your place,” Jasmine said, turning away to look out the window.

“Who? You?” Naomi laughed. “You arrogant bi–“

Jasmine’s hand came up, batting Naomi’s surprise attack aside. Then she continued her attack, reaching out and jabbing her fingers into Naomi’s bicep. Only then did she turn as her fingers stabbed into Naomi’s neck.

The stunned assassin slumped back against the window, paralysed by Jasmine’s attack. Intense pain lanced through her neck and arm and she felt herself losing consciousness.

Twisting her fingers against Naomi’s nerve cluster, Jasmine leaned in close to the immobilised agent. “Just think,” she whispered, “you’re about to pass out and you might never wake up if I don’t want you to.”

She allowed her words to sink in before delivering the knockout with a deft twist of her wrist. Naomi gasped, her eyes wide in fear, then she relaxed. Jasmine looked at her and shook her head. Someone had to teach her a lesson.