You may be familiar with his wonderful picture manip stories. However, MisterSandmann has now posted a wonderful four part sentry take out story that features and uniform steal as well as some extra sentry stripping. I really enjoyed the story.
Here it is:
https://www.deviantart.com/mistersandma ... 1182590396
https://www.deviantart.com/mistersandma ... 1183029036
https://www.deviantart.com/mistersandma ... 1183396665
https://www.deviantart.com/mistersandma ... 1183420128
Story by MisterSandmann
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esercito sconfitto
- Posts: 7975
- Joined: Tue Jan 12, 2016 12:06 pm
Re: Story by MisterSandmann
Meditions, thanks for the heads-up. I moved the story to the proper section of the board
"Dead Wake"
by MisterSandmann
Somewhere in Montenegro...
Waves crashed into the rocky cliffs along a remote stretch of coastline. The night was dark and still, only broken by a single pinpoint of glowing orange.
Adrijana took a drag of her cigarette. She was a stern-looking Slavic woman dressed in a dark tank top and tight black pants, her blonde hair tucked under a black cap. She stood outside a remote security outpost built into the rocky shore. A satellite tower stood tall nearby.
Adrijana blew out a plume of smoke and savored the night's quiet stillness. This section of the coast was particularly remote, and could only be accessed by a boat that came every 12 hours. That didn't bother Adrijana, who enjoyed the privacy more than most.
As she brought the cigarette to her lips again, a hand suddenly clamped over her mouth. She felt the cigarette bounce into the back of her throat, burning the roof of her mouth. Her nostrils filled with ash and smoke. Stinging tears welled in her eyes. She grabbed for the pistol in her holster, but her arm was suddenly and painfully pinned behind her back.
Agent Indira Konda kept a tight hold on Adrijana, shifting her grip to plug her nose. The sentry squirmed, desperately attempting to get air, but she was no match for the British Indian operative's powerful build. Indira was broad shouldered and brawny, her large muscles flexing against the tactical wetsuit she'd used to infiltrate the outpost. Her dark hair was pulled into tight braids that hugged her scalp.
Indira was quite proud of her physique, which she rigorously maintained with dieting, exercise, and subduing the occasional mercenary. Her ability to completely manhandle enemy combatants had earned her the nickname "Anaconda", which, as she would wryly point out, contained more syllables than her actual name.
Adrijana's struggling began to slow as her brain was deprived of oxygen. With a muffled moan, she went limp, her eyes fluttering shut. The guard was out on her feet, kept upright in Indira's arms. The agent removed her hand, allowing the damp cigarette to fall out of the sentry's slack mouth. A thin line of ash-tinted gray drool dribbling down her chin. A bit got on Indira's palm, which she dismissively wiped off on the sleeping sentry's shirt.
Still holding her body up, Indira rummaged through the guard's pockets, but found nothing. That suited her just fine: Indira loved performing more thorough searches on these girls. She reached under the guard's shirt, giving her breast a playful squeeze as she did so. Digging around in her bra, her fingers finally touched plastic. Indira grinned and pulled out a security card.
A grid of monitors lined the interior of the security hut, its screens displaying various video feeds. Farah, a bored looking brunette, sat in front of them, staring at the screens. She wore a dark t-shirt and khaki shorts.
Two electronic chirps went off behind her, the sound of someone swiping in through the reinforced door. The guard barely glanced behind her, speaking in Croatian. "Enjoy your smoke break, Adrijana?"
She swiveled her chair around and froze, shocked to see, not her co-worker, but the muscle-bound Indira standing before her. Adrijana was out cold and draped over her shoulder, her limbs dangling towards the floor. Indira grinned playfully. "Hello, love."
Farah began to rise, but Indira quickly tossed her unconscious companion onto her lap. Adrijana's limp body slammed into the brunette, pinning her into the chair. Farah's cry of pain was cut short as Indira's fist came crashing into her face. Her scream turned into a dumb groan. "Unghhhh," her mouth hung open, almost in surprise, as her eyes crossed and rolled back into her head. She moaned, then sagged in her seat. Both women now sat unconscious in the chair, Adrijana awkwardly propped up in Farah's lap.
Indira quickly got to work, pulling out a handful of zip ties. She pulled Farah's limp arms around the front of Adrijana's stomach in a hug, zip tying her hands together. She then grabbed Adrijana's wrists and crossed them behind Farah's back, zip tying them together as well, leaving the two sentries tightly entangled with each other. She grabbed Adrijana's fallen cap and place it over her dozing face.
With the two guards bundled up, Indira turned her attention to the security monitors. She pulled a USB stick from her pocket and plugged it in. Despite her physical prowess, Indira's true talents were as a tech specialist. As she got herself situated, she spoked into the earpiece she was wearing.
"This is Bishop-2. Ground team's been tucked into bed and outgoing signals have been jammed. The boat is dead in the water. Proceed with mission."
Meanwhile...
The night was still and silent over the Adriatic Sea. A large white superyacht cut through the water like a ghost: The Alexandria. It was a sleek, modern ship, one that might be expected to play host to socialites or partygoers. Instead, it remained eerily devoid of life.
The Alexandria's sailing route was isolated by design, but if another vessel were to pass by, they might have noticed a peculiar sight: a slim woman in a black wetsuit emerging from the water and climbing onto the swim platform on the back of the yacht.
Agent Mia Moss silently crawled on board the yacht and scanned her surroundings. Water dripped off her skintight wetsuit. With the coast clear, she tried to shake herself dry. Mia was a pale American woman with high cheekbones and a mischievous glint in her eyes. She removed her diving hood, shaking loose a head of dark black shoulder length hair. She touched her earpiece and spoke softly.
"Bishop-1 has boarded. Let's get to work."
Two global powers teeter on the brink of war: The Great Union of the West and the Sacred Coalition of Sovereign States, encompassing much of Asia and Eastern Europe. With funds running low, government operations have increasingly been co-opted by corporate powers. Covert operations are conducted by privately backed agencies acting on business interests. Corruption runs rampant in both camps as they stockpile resources, power, and technology.
As civilian populations continue to suffer, a new intelligence agency forms to act on behalf of humanity everywhere, regardless of creed, class, or nation. It's made up of disillusioned operatives and private backers, conducting independent missions at their own discretion.
Their existence is considered classified.
Their members are considered traitors.
They are the very best at what they do.
They are...
CASTLE
Mission Briefing
Good afternoon, ladies.
Our target today is Nadia Simikov, daughter of Russian business oligarch Arkady Simikov. Nadia has spent a childhood mingling with the highest ranking members of the S.C.S.S. In recent years, she's put those connections to good use as a high powered information broker. Nadia traffics in all sorts of secrets: assassination plots, black sites, experimental weapons, all sold to the highest bidder. Her auctions have led to the deaths of countless people. Nadia will leave no stone unturned if she thinks she can make a buck.
Nadia's hoard of information is stored on a bank of servers housed on her personal superyacht. It's a three story tall luxury liner named The Alexandria, after the library. Very subtle, I know. Intercepted communication indicates Nadia possesses a backup of the data as well. The boat sails off the coast of Montenegro and is guarded by a team of private security contractors. The ship is in constant contact with a ground team on the mainland, which will alert reinforcements if they notice anything wrong on board. It's a veritable floating fortress.
Bishop-2 will take out the ground team and sabotage their communications. Bishop-1 will be riding alongside the boat with a motorized scuba device provided by R&D. You'll be able to board once the ship's crew is cut off from the mainland.
Extract anything useful if you can, but your primary mission is to wipe Nadia's server bank, as well as any backups she has of her data. As per usual, try to keep things as clean as you can.
Happy travels,
Queen
Presently...
Mia wrung as much water as she could from her hair. Indira had carefully mapped the crew's patrol patterns, finding a short break in the guard rotation. Mia had the deck all to herself right now, but that wouldn't last very long.
She darted up the stairs to the second story deck and ducked into a passageway just as one sentry emerged to resume her patrol. She was dressed in a light orange one-piece swimsuit that showed off her tan, well-toned legs. A combat knife was strapped to her thigh and an SMG was slung over her shoulder from a strap, hanging at her side.
The guard ran a hand through her short, sandy hair as she took in the fresh air. During this momentary distraction, Mia darted from her hiding spot and slammed her open hand into the back of the guard's neck. The sentry grunted, her knees buckling. Mia caught her as she fell, slowly lowering the dazed woman to the ground. The guard mumbled incoherently, her mouth no longer able to form words.
Mia's undersea infiltration meant she was light on gear, but she'd been able to wear a small waterproof pack. She reached into it now and pulled out what appeared to be a staple gun. In fact, she and Indira had taken to calling it the stapler for that very reason. In reality, it was a jet injector that administered a slow-release sedative pellet, one that could keep a grown adult reliably comatose for about four hours. It was a useful way to ensure enemy combatant's wouldn't wake up too early. CASTLE had managed to keep a reasonably low profile, partly due to its efforts to keep its operations non-lethal. As a result, most global powers thought of them as a nuisance, if at all.
Mia pressed the stapler to the sentry's neck and pulled the trigger. There was a muted fwunk. The guard stiffened, then shuddered. A moan escaped her lips before turning into a sigh. She relaxed into Mia's lap and went still, her tongue protruding slightly. Mia lifted her eyelid and was satisfied to see white.
The agent sat the sentry up, allowing her head to loll over her breasts. Mia unhooked the guard's SMG, tossing it overboard where it landed with a splash, before lowering her back down to the ground. Standing up, she grabbed the guard by her bare ankles and began dragging the body out of sight. The senseless woman's arms trailed loosely behind her, her head bouncing against the deck.
Looking back in the passageway she was hiding in, Mia found a door labeled as a custodial closet. Opening it revealed stacks of towels and cleaning supplies. It was a narrow room, but just wide enough to hide a body. Mia dragged the unconscious guard inside and tucked her arms in by her sides. Shifting uncomfortably, she found the footing to clumsily roll the sentry onto her belly. Mia winced as she noticed the sentry's uniform had been pulled into a wedgie. "My bad," she whispered.
"Petra?"
Mia's head snapped up just as a dark-skinned woman poked her head in through the doorway. She was dressed in an identical orange swimsuit. The two women froze, staring at each other.
The sentry moved to raise her SMG.
Unfortunately for her, the size of the closet had forced them into close quarters. Mia reacted quickly, grabbing the barrel of the gun and giving it a sharp yank. The move knocked the guard off balance, and she stumbled over her friend's body - Petra, Mia assumed. At the same time, the agent deftly climbed up between the two narrow walls, using the tight space to her advantage. She wrapped her arm around the SMG's shoulder strap and pulled. The sentry was pinned against Mia's leg, her arm snapping up as the maneuver forced her to start choking herself. She struggled to find footing on Petra's body. The sleeping guard, for her part, barely stirred.
"Gk... gk..." the sentry gurgled as she tried to use her free hand to grasp for her gun. Mia just pulled it further out of reach, tightening the chokehold. The guard's eyes crossed, fluttered, then filled with rage as she lunged at Mia with a sudden burst of energy. Mia dodged her attack and wrapped the SMG strap around her elbow, pulling the guard to her tiptoes.
Mia trembled as she held the pose. Sweat dripped down her face. The guard's left hand slapped uselessly against her flexing thigh, but Mia just stared her down. Through gritted teeth, she whispered.
"Go. The fuck. To sleep."
In response, the sentry let out a final gurgle, her eyes sliding shut. She sagged, going limp. Mia released her grip, and the two women collapsed into a pile on top of Petra.
Mia lay there for a moment, panting, trying to catch her breath. This body pile was actually quite comfortable. Her head rested against the top sentry's breasts. Mia could feel her chest move up and down as she breathed. She grabbed a limp arm and used it to wipe the sweat off her face before throwing it back. Still struggling to breathe, she touched her ear piece. "Thanks for the warning, Bishop-2," she said sarcastically.
Indira's apologetic response crackled back. "Sorry! I was dealing with something."
Mia scoffed. After struggling back up to her feet, she retrieved the stapler and punched it into the top sentry's thigh, eliciting a weak moan. Mia grinned, finally coming down from the adrenaline of the fight. She ran her down down her defeated foe's chest, admiring her body. "That was good for me too, babe." She kissed the senseless guard on the cheek before beginning to work her shoulder straps off. Petra was a bit on the small size, but new girl here would be the perfect fit.
One quick change later...
The second sentry lay naked on top of her co-worker, stripped of her swimsuit and weapons. The two women breathed steadily, completely out cold. Mia's wetsuit lay nearby, discarded in favor of the orange one-piece she was currently wiggling into. The guard detail here would be too tight-knit for her to actually pass off as one of their own, but it could buy her crucial seconds in a confrontation.
Mia finally managed to get the swimsuit on, no small feat considering how damp she was. Luckily, the patrols switched shifts on the hour, so the deck remained empty for the time being. Mia scooped up the SMG and slung it over her shoulder. She tossed her wetsuit on top of the pile of guards, kicking one of their legs away from the doorway.
"Goodnight, girls," she whispered, giving them a wave as the door closed shut.
About ten minutes ago on the mainland...
Indira grinned as her malware finished installing on the outpost's security program. It set the yacht's onboard system to a recorded loop, giving her sole access to the actual security feed. Staring at the monitors, she winced as she saw Mia sneak up on an unsuspecting guard and drop her like a sack of potatoes. She'd been on the receiving end of a couple of Mia's neck chops during their sparring sessions together, and they hurt like hell.
She suddenly became aware of a strange sound behind her. The quiet squeaking of plastic wheels.
Indira whipped around in time to see Farah awake and struggling to propel her rolling chair forward from beneath the still unconscious Adrijana. The sentry kicked out, shoving Indira's chair back into the table. The agent grimaced as her ribs banged into the tabletop's edge.
As Indira got to her feet, Farah began yelling at her co-worker in Croatian. "Idiot! Wake up and help me!" Exasperated, she bit Adrijana's ear, and the guard awoke with a yelp. As she shook the cap off her face, she saw a furious-looking Indira marching towards them.
Adrijana shrieked and kicked the agent in the shin as she got close. Indira swore. "Fuck! You little cunt!"
She retaliated by slamming a fist into Adrijana's stomach. The guard gasped as the wind was knocked out of her. Indira followed it up by grabbing a handful of blonde hair and slamming Adrijana's head into Farah's once, twice, three times. The women's heads bounced off each other, their pained expressions softening with each hit. Indira released her grip, allowing them to bob still, their eyes closed, their mouths hanging open. Back in dreamland once again.
Annoyed, Indira rubbed her shin, wishing she was the one with the stapler. She flicked Farah in the face. "Bitch." The guard only snored in response. Indira scooped Adrijana's cap off the floor and stuffed it into her mouth.
Mia's voice suddenly rang in her ear. "Thanks for the warning, Bishop-2."
Indira's gaze snapped back to the monitors, where she saw Mia struggling with two limp bodies now. Shit. She rushed back to her seat.
"Sorry! I was dealing with something."
Back on The Alexandria...
A pair of chatting guards passed by, barely noticing Mia as she ducked into an ornate looking lounge area. Behind the bar, one guard was fixing herself a drink. She was a tall brunette, her hair pulled back in a tight ponytail. Her gun sat on the counter.
She looked up as Mia approached. "Hey, you want one?" Her grin faded as she registered an unfamiliar face. "Wait, who...?"
Mia took advantage of her confusion, quickly strolling up to her. "Whoops, you got something on your cheek." She cupped the sentry's face, then used her other hand to deliver a quick jab into the side of her neck. The sentry jerked, her eyes going wide before rolling back. Mia pulled her into a hug, holding her as her consciousness rapidly faded. "Shhhh, shhhh, easy now," she whispered.
The sentry relaxed. Her head lolled forward, her slack face resting on Mia's shoulder. The agent adjusted her grip and gave her a pat on the back of the head. "Good girl."
Mia carefully lowered the senseless guard to the ground, sitting her down under the counter and tucking her knees up to her chest. Shoving the body out of sight, she grabbed the SMG off the counter and removed the magazine, burying it in the ice bin. She wiped her hand off before touching her ear piece. "Bishop-2, any idea where these servers are?"
"You're on the right path. Access stairwell should be just ahead of you."
Sure enough, a door at the end of the hallway opened up to a staircase descending below deck. As Mia cautiously walked down the steps, she could hear a growing electronic hum.
"Bingo."
Mia reached into her pack and pulled out what appeared to be a black cylinder. She began separating them into individual pucks, each capable of emitting a powerful electromagnetic pulse. She began slapping them on every other server, the devices sticking onto the glass surface.
"Server room is primed."
"Great. Make sure to find the backup before you trigger the devices. An EMP blast of that size is gonna be very noticeable."
"Roger that," Mia said, before hurrying back up the stairs.
A couple empty rooms later...
Drawer full of bras. Cabinet full of jewelry. Mia cursed as she continued rummaging through Nadia Simikov's private cabin. It was lavishly decorated and neatly organized, but it lacked anything that looked like a backup drive.
"Bishop-2, what's Simikov's status?"
"Last seen by the front of the ship, but I've lost eyes on her. I'd make it snappy."
"Copy that."
Click
Mia froze at the sound of a gun cocking. A voice coolly spoke behind her in Russian.
"Raise your hands and turn around. Slowly."
Mia complied, turning around to see a striking blonde woman in a yellow bikini, a silk white robe hanging off her shoulders. She had a Makarov pistol trained on Mia.
"Take off your bag. Set it on the ground."
Mia unhooked her pack and tossed it down. She gave a sheepish grin."I assume you're Nadia Simikov?" she said in the same language, trying to turn on her charm. "A dossier doesn't do your looks justice."
Nadia smiled, switching to English. "Your Russian isn't bad for an American... Miss Mia Moss."
Mia's grin dropped. Nadia chuckled. "Don't look so surprised. I make it a habit of knowing things. Orphaned at age 9, prison at 14, then again at 17 and 22. Recruited into special ops at 26 before disappearing during a mission in Qatar."
Mia managed a coy look despite her surprise. "You have a crush on me or something?"
Nadia smiled sweetly. "Just a very good memory." She paced, keeping her gun on the agent.
Mia cleared her throat. "So. Why am I not dead right now?"
"Call it professional curiosity. I don't know who you're working for now and I don't like having blind spots."
"Why not have your guards beat it out of me?"
"Normally I would," Nadia responded, a hint of annoyance creeping into her tone. "But the ship's been quiet tonight. I assume your handiwork?"
Mia shrugged. "If your staff is asleep on the job, that's your problem."
Nadia smirked. "I'm going to enjoy this, you bitch."
She raised her pistol. Mia reacted quickly, kicking her pack off the floor. It flew up, knocking the gun out of Nadia's hand. It clattered to the ground. The Russian recovered quickly, launching a flurry of jabs at Mia. She was surprisingly adept at hand to hand combat, likely from a childhood training with military brats. Mia recognized her technique from previous Russian agents.
Nadia went for a right hook, which Mia dodged and countered by striking a sensitive bundle of nerves below her armpit. The Russian cried out in pain and stumbled, suddenly panicking. Spotting the pistol on the floor, she bent down to pick it up.
Mia instead went for her pack, pulling out the stapler. In one smooth motion, she swung around and fired it into Nadia's ass cheek, which she was helpfully presenting to her.
"Oh!" the Russian girl shot up straight. She spun around and swung at Mia, smacking her in the face. It was too late though. She began to wobble as the sedative began to take effect.
"Woah... hold... hold onnn..." she slurred, backing up. She bumped into the edge of her bed. Mia approached her confidently.
"What's wrong, Nadia? Feeling woozy? A little lightheaded?"
As Nadia swayed on her feet, Mia stepped towards her. She addressed her prey in Russian. "You're obnoxious, but I'll give you this. You've peaked my interest. Your backup files, they're not on a server, are they?" She placed her index finger on Nadia's forehead. "They're up here."
Nadia smiled dreamily. "Just a... very good... memory..."
Mia gently pushed against her forehead with her finger. With a heavy sigh, Nadia flopped back onto her bed, her limbs bouncing before settling. Her robe splayed open, showing off her toned body. Mia climbed on top of Nadia and straddled her, giving her a couple smacks on the face. No reaction. She grabbed her face, squishing her lips together into a pucker, and shook her head back and forth. Still nothing.
Satisfied, Mia got off. She grabbed Nadia's arm and pulled her into a sitting position. She deftly bent down and tossed the limp blonde over her shoulder.
Mia hurried along the top deck, Nadia in tow. The unconscious blonde's limbs loosely slapped against her body as she ran. Indira's voice sounded off in her ear.
"Uhhh... is that Simikov's arse you're cozying up with right now?"
"Slight change of plans," Mia panted. "Simikov's backup IS Simikov."
"...what?"
"I'll explain at HQ. Right now, I need to extract her off the boat."
Mia rounded the corner and breathed a sigh of relief as she found what she was looking for: the yacht tender, a small motorboat used to run supplies to and from the ship. It hung near the railing, ready to be deployed. Mia set Nadia down and allowed her to flop over the edge, her bare legs hanging off the side of the tender.
As the agent took a second to compose herself, a voice spoke behind her.
"Raise your hands and turn around."
She raised her hands with an exasperated sigh. "I've already done this once tonight."
"I said turn around!"
Mia complied, revealing two guards with their SMGs raised at her. Like the rest of the crew, they were stunning. The one that was talking spoke with a slight accent, something Eastern European. Maybe Romanian? She had dark brown hair pulled into a bun. Her partner was more tanned, with curly hair and an angular face.
The maybe-Romanian took a step forward. "Take your bag off. Touch that zipper and you die."
"Okay, okay, just relax. You got me," Mia said, slowly reaching for her bag. As she pulled it off, she felt for the small remote inside: the trigger for the EMP devices.
"Set it down!" the guard barked.
"Of course. Whatever you ladies want," Mia said. She kneeled down slowly, lowering her pack to the ground... and clicked the trigger.
Down in the server room, the EMP devices began emitting a high pitched whirring. The blue lights of the servers flickered, then went red as the whirring turned up to a crescendo.
For a split second, the lights on the ship turned the brightest they'd ever been.
Then, the boat was suddenly plunged into blackness. "What??" the Romanian exclaimed. The sentries glanced around wildly. Acting on their confusion, Mia dashed towards the nearest one with a slight smile.
Three hours later...
The world was rocking back and forth. A spray of water hit Nadia in the face. She stirred, slowly blinking awake.
She was on the deck of the yacht tender. As it hit another wave, Nadia was lifted and sent crashing down onto the deck. She grunted, shocked into consciousness.
Nadia suddenly became aware that she was topless. She lifted her hands to find they'd been tightly bound together with her yellow bikini top. On either side of her lay two of her guards, Irina and Fiorella, out cold. They had similarly been relieved of their swimsuits, used to bind their hands, leaving both women completely nude. Their naked bodies jiggled in rhythm with the crashing waves.
Nadia rolled on her side and shook Irina, trying to wake her. The Romanian quietly moaned, but remained fast asleep.
"They'll be out for a while."
Nadia looked up to see Mia standing over them, grinning. "Hope you don't mind sharing the ride. Met these two girls on my way out and figured I'd bring them along."
The Russian glanced around. "Where are we?"
"On our way to meet some people," Mia said, reaching inside her pack. "My boss has some things to hash out with you." She pulled out the stapler.
Nadia's eyes widened. "Wait wait, hold on. You don't have to do that," she said, raising her hands up. "I can go awake, I promise."
Mia ignored her and knelt down. She straddled Nadia's body, pinning her legs together and her arms down. The Russian squirmed beneath her, but she was still weak from the sedative.
"You must have quite the tolerance," Mia whistled. "This stuff puts most people out for twice as long as your little cat nap."
"Don't put me back to sleep. We can make a deal."
"I'm sure you can," Mia replied as she brought the stapler up to Nadia's neck. "It's just not my deal to make."
Fwunk. Nadia cried out, her back arching, then relaxed. Her eyes became unfocused. Mia worried slightly that the dose was too much, but she couldn't risk being overpowered on this tiny boat.
With a final groan, Nadia went limp, her head lolled to the side. Mia brushed the blonde hair from her face and lifted her head, giving her a kiss on her slack mouth. She smiled. The Russian, who had been so cold and calculating before, was now sleeping like a baby, peacefully devoid of thought.
The agent dropped Nadia back to the ground and stood up. She stepped back to the steering wheel and spoke into her ear piece. "Bishop-2, this is Bishop-1. Mission accomplished. Heading to the rendezvous point now with some extra luggage."
Indira's voice crackled back. "You're a champion. See you soon."
Mia glanced back and admired her handiwork. Three senseless women laid side by side in a row, their breasts exposed to the sky.
"Sleep tight, ladies," Mia said with a grin. "It's gonna be a long ride back to Montenegro."
"Dead Wake"
by MisterSandmann
Somewhere in Montenegro...
Waves crashed into the rocky cliffs along a remote stretch of coastline. The night was dark and still, only broken by a single pinpoint of glowing orange.
Adrijana took a drag of her cigarette. She was a stern-looking Slavic woman dressed in a dark tank top and tight black pants, her blonde hair tucked under a black cap. She stood outside a remote security outpost built into the rocky shore. A satellite tower stood tall nearby.
Adrijana blew out a plume of smoke and savored the night's quiet stillness. This section of the coast was particularly remote, and could only be accessed by a boat that came every 12 hours. That didn't bother Adrijana, who enjoyed the privacy more than most.
As she brought the cigarette to her lips again, a hand suddenly clamped over her mouth. She felt the cigarette bounce into the back of her throat, burning the roof of her mouth. Her nostrils filled with ash and smoke. Stinging tears welled in her eyes. She grabbed for the pistol in her holster, but her arm was suddenly and painfully pinned behind her back.
Agent Indira Konda kept a tight hold on Adrijana, shifting her grip to plug her nose. The sentry squirmed, desperately attempting to get air, but she was no match for the British Indian operative's powerful build. Indira was broad shouldered and brawny, her large muscles flexing against the tactical wetsuit she'd used to infiltrate the outpost. Her dark hair was pulled into tight braids that hugged her scalp.
Indira was quite proud of her physique, which she rigorously maintained with dieting, exercise, and subduing the occasional mercenary. Her ability to completely manhandle enemy combatants had earned her the nickname "Anaconda", which, as she would wryly point out, contained more syllables than her actual name.
Adrijana's struggling began to slow as her brain was deprived of oxygen. With a muffled moan, she went limp, her eyes fluttering shut. The guard was out on her feet, kept upright in Indira's arms. The agent removed her hand, allowing the damp cigarette to fall out of the sentry's slack mouth. A thin line of ash-tinted gray drool dribbling down her chin. A bit got on Indira's palm, which she dismissively wiped off on the sleeping sentry's shirt.
Still holding her body up, Indira rummaged through the guard's pockets, but found nothing. That suited her just fine: Indira loved performing more thorough searches on these girls. She reached under the guard's shirt, giving her breast a playful squeeze as she did so. Digging around in her bra, her fingers finally touched plastic. Indira grinned and pulled out a security card.
A grid of monitors lined the interior of the security hut, its screens displaying various video feeds. Farah, a bored looking brunette, sat in front of them, staring at the screens. She wore a dark t-shirt and khaki shorts.
Two electronic chirps went off behind her, the sound of someone swiping in through the reinforced door. The guard barely glanced behind her, speaking in Croatian. "Enjoy your smoke break, Adrijana?"
She swiveled her chair around and froze, shocked to see, not her co-worker, but the muscle-bound Indira standing before her. Adrijana was out cold and draped over her shoulder, her limbs dangling towards the floor. Indira grinned playfully. "Hello, love."
Farah began to rise, but Indira quickly tossed her unconscious companion onto her lap. Adrijana's limp body slammed into the brunette, pinning her into the chair. Farah's cry of pain was cut short as Indira's fist came crashing into her face. Her scream turned into a dumb groan. "Unghhhh," her mouth hung open, almost in surprise, as her eyes crossed and rolled back into her head. She moaned, then sagged in her seat. Both women now sat unconscious in the chair, Adrijana awkwardly propped up in Farah's lap.
Indira quickly got to work, pulling out a handful of zip ties. She pulled Farah's limp arms around the front of Adrijana's stomach in a hug, zip tying her hands together. She then grabbed Adrijana's wrists and crossed them behind Farah's back, zip tying them together as well, leaving the two sentries tightly entangled with each other. She grabbed Adrijana's fallen cap and place it over her dozing face.
With the two guards bundled up, Indira turned her attention to the security monitors. She pulled a USB stick from her pocket and plugged it in. Despite her physical prowess, Indira's true talents were as a tech specialist. As she got herself situated, she spoked into the earpiece she was wearing.
"This is Bishop-2. Ground team's been tucked into bed and outgoing signals have been jammed. The boat is dead in the water. Proceed with mission."
Meanwhile...
The night was still and silent over the Adriatic Sea. A large white superyacht cut through the water like a ghost: The Alexandria. It was a sleek, modern ship, one that might be expected to play host to socialites or partygoers. Instead, it remained eerily devoid of life.
The Alexandria's sailing route was isolated by design, but if another vessel were to pass by, they might have noticed a peculiar sight: a slim woman in a black wetsuit emerging from the water and climbing onto the swim platform on the back of the yacht.
Agent Mia Moss silently crawled on board the yacht and scanned her surroundings. Water dripped off her skintight wetsuit. With the coast clear, she tried to shake herself dry. Mia was a pale American woman with high cheekbones and a mischievous glint in her eyes. She removed her diving hood, shaking loose a head of dark black shoulder length hair. She touched her earpiece and spoke softly.
"Bishop-1 has boarded. Let's get to work."
Two global powers teeter on the brink of war: The Great Union of the West and the Sacred Coalition of Sovereign States, encompassing much of Asia and Eastern Europe. With funds running low, government operations have increasingly been co-opted by corporate powers. Covert operations are conducted by privately backed agencies acting on business interests. Corruption runs rampant in both camps as they stockpile resources, power, and technology.
As civilian populations continue to suffer, a new intelligence agency forms to act on behalf of humanity everywhere, regardless of creed, class, or nation. It's made up of disillusioned operatives and private backers, conducting independent missions at their own discretion.
Their existence is considered classified.
Their members are considered traitors.
They are the very best at what they do.
They are...
CASTLE
Mission Briefing
Good afternoon, ladies.
Our target today is Nadia Simikov, daughter of Russian business oligarch Arkady Simikov. Nadia has spent a childhood mingling with the highest ranking members of the S.C.S.S. In recent years, she's put those connections to good use as a high powered information broker. Nadia traffics in all sorts of secrets: assassination plots, black sites, experimental weapons, all sold to the highest bidder. Her auctions have led to the deaths of countless people. Nadia will leave no stone unturned if she thinks she can make a buck.
Nadia's hoard of information is stored on a bank of servers housed on her personal superyacht. It's a three story tall luxury liner named The Alexandria, after the library. Very subtle, I know. Intercepted communication indicates Nadia possesses a backup of the data as well. The boat sails off the coast of Montenegro and is guarded by a team of private security contractors. The ship is in constant contact with a ground team on the mainland, which will alert reinforcements if they notice anything wrong on board. It's a veritable floating fortress.
Bishop-2 will take out the ground team and sabotage their communications. Bishop-1 will be riding alongside the boat with a motorized scuba device provided by R&D. You'll be able to board once the ship's crew is cut off from the mainland.
Extract anything useful if you can, but your primary mission is to wipe Nadia's server bank, as well as any backups she has of her data. As per usual, try to keep things as clean as you can.
Happy travels,
Queen
Presently...
Mia wrung as much water as she could from her hair. Indira had carefully mapped the crew's patrol patterns, finding a short break in the guard rotation. Mia had the deck all to herself right now, but that wouldn't last very long.
She darted up the stairs to the second story deck and ducked into a passageway just as one sentry emerged to resume her patrol. She was dressed in a light orange one-piece swimsuit that showed off her tan, well-toned legs. A combat knife was strapped to her thigh and an SMG was slung over her shoulder from a strap, hanging at her side.
The guard ran a hand through her short, sandy hair as she took in the fresh air. During this momentary distraction, Mia darted from her hiding spot and slammed her open hand into the back of the guard's neck. The sentry grunted, her knees buckling. Mia caught her as she fell, slowly lowering the dazed woman to the ground. The guard mumbled incoherently, her mouth no longer able to form words.
Mia's undersea infiltration meant she was light on gear, but she'd been able to wear a small waterproof pack. She reached into it now and pulled out what appeared to be a staple gun. In fact, she and Indira had taken to calling it the stapler for that very reason. In reality, it was a jet injector that administered a slow-release sedative pellet, one that could keep a grown adult reliably comatose for about four hours. It was a useful way to ensure enemy combatant's wouldn't wake up too early. CASTLE had managed to keep a reasonably low profile, partly due to its efforts to keep its operations non-lethal. As a result, most global powers thought of them as a nuisance, if at all.
Mia pressed the stapler to the sentry's neck and pulled the trigger. There was a muted fwunk. The guard stiffened, then shuddered. A moan escaped her lips before turning into a sigh. She relaxed into Mia's lap and went still, her tongue protruding slightly. Mia lifted her eyelid and was satisfied to see white.
The agent sat the sentry up, allowing her head to loll over her breasts. Mia unhooked the guard's SMG, tossing it overboard where it landed with a splash, before lowering her back down to the ground. Standing up, she grabbed the guard by her bare ankles and began dragging the body out of sight. The senseless woman's arms trailed loosely behind her, her head bouncing against the deck.
Looking back in the passageway she was hiding in, Mia found a door labeled as a custodial closet. Opening it revealed stacks of towels and cleaning supplies. It was a narrow room, but just wide enough to hide a body. Mia dragged the unconscious guard inside and tucked her arms in by her sides. Shifting uncomfortably, she found the footing to clumsily roll the sentry onto her belly. Mia winced as she noticed the sentry's uniform had been pulled into a wedgie. "My bad," she whispered.
"Petra?"
Mia's head snapped up just as a dark-skinned woman poked her head in through the doorway. She was dressed in an identical orange swimsuit. The two women froze, staring at each other.
The sentry moved to raise her SMG.
Unfortunately for her, the size of the closet had forced them into close quarters. Mia reacted quickly, grabbing the barrel of the gun and giving it a sharp yank. The move knocked the guard off balance, and she stumbled over her friend's body - Petra, Mia assumed. At the same time, the agent deftly climbed up between the two narrow walls, using the tight space to her advantage. She wrapped her arm around the SMG's shoulder strap and pulled. The sentry was pinned against Mia's leg, her arm snapping up as the maneuver forced her to start choking herself. She struggled to find footing on Petra's body. The sleeping guard, for her part, barely stirred.
"Gk... gk..." the sentry gurgled as she tried to use her free hand to grasp for her gun. Mia just pulled it further out of reach, tightening the chokehold. The guard's eyes crossed, fluttered, then filled with rage as she lunged at Mia with a sudden burst of energy. Mia dodged her attack and wrapped the SMG strap around her elbow, pulling the guard to her tiptoes.
Mia trembled as she held the pose. Sweat dripped down her face. The guard's left hand slapped uselessly against her flexing thigh, but Mia just stared her down. Through gritted teeth, she whispered.
"Go. The fuck. To sleep."
In response, the sentry let out a final gurgle, her eyes sliding shut. She sagged, going limp. Mia released her grip, and the two women collapsed into a pile on top of Petra.
Mia lay there for a moment, panting, trying to catch her breath. This body pile was actually quite comfortable. Her head rested against the top sentry's breasts. Mia could feel her chest move up and down as she breathed. She grabbed a limp arm and used it to wipe the sweat off her face before throwing it back. Still struggling to breathe, she touched her ear piece. "Thanks for the warning, Bishop-2," she said sarcastically.
Indira's apologetic response crackled back. "Sorry! I was dealing with something."
Mia scoffed. After struggling back up to her feet, she retrieved the stapler and punched it into the top sentry's thigh, eliciting a weak moan. Mia grinned, finally coming down from the adrenaline of the fight. She ran her down down her defeated foe's chest, admiring her body. "That was good for me too, babe." She kissed the senseless guard on the cheek before beginning to work her shoulder straps off. Petra was a bit on the small size, but new girl here would be the perfect fit.
One quick change later...
The second sentry lay naked on top of her co-worker, stripped of her swimsuit and weapons. The two women breathed steadily, completely out cold. Mia's wetsuit lay nearby, discarded in favor of the orange one-piece she was currently wiggling into. The guard detail here would be too tight-knit for her to actually pass off as one of their own, but it could buy her crucial seconds in a confrontation.
Mia finally managed to get the swimsuit on, no small feat considering how damp she was. Luckily, the patrols switched shifts on the hour, so the deck remained empty for the time being. Mia scooped up the SMG and slung it over her shoulder. She tossed her wetsuit on top of the pile of guards, kicking one of their legs away from the doorway.
"Goodnight, girls," she whispered, giving them a wave as the door closed shut.
About ten minutes ago on the mainland...
Indira grinned as her malware finished installing on the outpost's security program. It set the yacht's onboard system to a recorded loop, giving her sole access to the actual security feed. Staring at the monitors, she winced as she saw Mia sneak up on an unsuspecting guard and drop her like a sack of potatoes. She'd been on the receiving end of a couple of Mia's neck chops during their sparring sessions together, and they hurt like hell.
She suddenly became aware of a strange sound behind her. The quiet squeaking of plastic wheels.
Indira whipped around in time to see Farah awake and struggling to propel her rolling chair forward from beneath the still unconscious Adrijana. The sentry kicked out, shoving Indira's chair back into the table. The agent grimaced as her ribs banged into the tabletop's edge.
As Indira got to her feet, Farah began yelling at her co-worker in Croatian. "Idiot! Wake up and help me!" Exasperated, she bit Adrijana's ear, and the guard awoke with a yelp. As she shook the cap off her face, she saw a furious-looking Indira marching towards them.
Adrijana shrieked and kicked the agent in the shin as she got close. Indira swore. "Fuck! You little cunt!"
She retaliated by slamming a fist into Adrijana's stomach. The guard gasped as the wind was knocked out of her. Indira followed it up by grabbing a handful of blonde hair and slamming Adrijana's head into Farah's once, twice, three times. The women's heads bounced off each other, their pained expressions softening with each hit. Indira released her grip, allowing them to bob still, their eyes closed, their mouths hanging open. Back in dreamland once again.
Annoyed, Indira rubbed her shin, wishing she was the one with the stapler. She flicked Farah in the face. "Bitch." The guard only snored in response. Indira scooped Adrijana's cap off the floor and stuffed it into her mouth.
Mia's voice suddenly rang in her ear. "Thanks for the warning, Bishop-2."
Indira's gaze snapped back to the monitors, where she saw Mia struggling with two limp bodies now. Shit. She rushed back to her seat.
"Sorry! I was dealing with something."
Back on The Alexandria...
A pair of chatting guards passed by, barely noticing Mia as she ducked into an ornate looking lounge area. Behind the bar, one guard was fixing herself a drink. She was a tall brunette, her hair pulled back in a tight ponytail. Her gun sat on the counter.
She looked up as Mia approached. "Hey, you want one?" Her grin faded as she registered an unfamiliar face. "Wait, who...?"
Mia took advantage of her confusion, quickly strolling up to her. "Whoops, you got something on your cheek." She cupped the sentry's face, then used her other hand to deliver a quick jab into the side of her neck. The sentry jerked, her eyes going wide before rolling back. Mia pulled her into a hug, holding her as her consciousness rapidly faded. "Shhhh, shhhh, easy now," she whispered.
The sentry relaxed. Her head lolled forward, her slack face resting on Mia's shoulder. The agent adjusted her grip and gave her a pat on the back of the head. "Good girl."
Mia carefully lowered the senseless guard to the ground, sitting her down under the counter and tucking her knees up to her chest. Shoving the body out of sight, she grabbed the SMG off the counter and removed the magazine, burying it in the ice bin. She wiped her hand off before touching her ear piece. "Bishop-2, any idea where these servers are?"
"You're on the right path. Access stairwell should be just ahead of you."
Sure enough, a door at the end of the hallway opened up to a staircase descending below deck. As Mia cautiously walked down the steps, she could hear a growing electronic hum.
"Bingo."
Mia reached into her pack and pulled out what appeared to be a black cylinder. She began separating them into individual pucks, each capable of emitting a powerful electromagnetic pulse. She began slapping them on every other server, the devices sticking onto the glass surface.
"Server room is primed."
"Great. Make sure to find the backup before you trigger the devices. An EMP blast of that size is gonna be very noticeable."
"Roger that," Mia said, before hurrying back up the stairs.
A couple empty rooms later...
Drawer full of bras. Cabinet full of jewelry. Mia cursed as she continued rummaging through Nadia Simikov's private cabin. It was lavishly decorated and neatly organized, but it lacked anything that looked like a backup drive.
"Bishop-2, what's Simikov's status?"
"Last seen by the front of the ship, but I've lost eyes on her. I'd make it snappy."
"Copy that."
Click
Mia froze at the sound of a gun cocking. A voice coolly spoke behind her in Russian.
"Raise your hands and turn around. Slowly."
Mia complied, turning around to see a striking blonde woman in a yellow bikini, a silk white robe hanging off her shoulders. She had a Makarov pistol trained on Mia.
"Take off your bag. Set it on the ground."
Mia unhooked her pack and tossed it down. She gave a sheepish grin."I assume you're Nadia Simikov?" she said in the same language, trying to turn on her charm. "A dossier doesn't do your looks justice."
Nadia smiled, switching to English. "Your Russian isn't bad for an American... Miss Mia Moss."
Mia's grin dropped. Nadia chuckled. "Don't look so surprised. I make it a habit of knowing things. Orphaned at age 9, prison at 14, then again at 17 and 22. Recruited into special ops at 26 before disappearing during a mission in Qatar."
Mia managed a coy look despite her surprise. "You have a crush on me or something?"
Nadia smiled sweetly. "Just a very good memory." She paced, keeping her gun on the agent.
Mia cleared her throat. "So. Why am I not dead right now?"
"Call it professional curiosity. I don't know who you're working for now and I don't like having blind spots."
"Why not have your guards beat it out of me?"
"Normally I would," Nadia responded, a hint of annoyance creeping into her tone. "But the ship's been quiet tonight. I assume your handiwork?"
Mia shrugged. "If your staff is asleep on the job, that's your problem."
Nadia smirked. "I'm going to enjoy this, you bitch."
She raised her pistol. Mia reacted quickly, kicking her pack off the floor. It flew up, knocking the gun out of Nadia's hand. It clattered to the ground. The Russian recovered quickly, launching a flurry of jabs at Mia. She was surprisingly adept at hand to hand combat, likely from a childhood training with military brats. Mia recognized her technique from previous Russian agents.
Nadia went for a right hook, which Mia dodged and countered by striking a sensitive bundle of nerves below her armpit. The Russian cried out in pain and stumbled, suddenly panicking. Spotting the pistol on the floor, she bent down to pick it up.
Mia instead went for her pack, pulling out the stapler. In one smooth motion, she swung around and fired it into Nadia's ass cheek, which she was helpfully presenting to her.
"Oh!" the Russian girl shot up straight. She spun around and swung at Mia, smacking her in the face. It was too late though. She began to wobble as the sedative began to take effect.
"Woah... hold... hold onnn..." she slurred, backing up. She bumped into the edge of her bed. Mia approached her confidently.
"What's wrong, Nadia? Feeling woozy? A little lightheaded?"
As Nadia swayed on her feet, Mia stepped towards her. She addressed her prey in Russian. "You're obnoxious, but I'll give you this. You've peaked my interest. Your backup files, they're not on a server, are they?" She placed her index finger on Nadia's forehead. "They're up here."
Nadia smiled dreamily. "Just a... very good... memory..."
Mia gently pushed against her forehead with her finger. With a heavy sigh, Nadia flopped back onto her bed, her limbs bouncing before settling. Her robe splayed open, showing off her toned body. Mia climbed on top of Nadia and straddled her, giving her a couple smacks on the face. No reaction. She grabbed her face, squishing her lips together into a pucker, and shook her head back and forth. Still nothing.
Satisfied, Mia got off. She grabbed Nadia's arm and pulled her into a sitting position. She deftly bent down and tossed the limp blonde over her shoulder.
Mia hurried along the top deck, Nadia in tow. The unconscious blonde's limbs loosely slapped against her body as she ran. Indira's voice sounded off in her ear.
"Uhhh... is that Simikov's arse you're cozying up with right now?"
"Slight change of plans," Mia panted. "Simikov's backup IS Simikov."
"...what?"
"I'll explain at HQ. Right now, I need to extract her off the boat."
Mia rounded the corner and breathed a sigh of relief as she found what she was looking for: the yacht tender, a small motorboat used to run supplies to and from the ship. It hung near the railing, ready to be deployed. Mia set Nadia down and allowed her to flop over the edge, her bare legs hanging off the side of the tender.
As the agent took a second to compose herself, a voice spoke behind her.
"Raise your hands and turn around."
She raised her hands with an exasperated sigh. "I've already done this once tonight."
"I said turn around!"
Mia complied, revealing two guards with their SMGs raised at her. Like the rest of the crew, they were stunning. The one that was talking spoke with a slight accent, something Eastern European. Maybe Romanian? She had dark brown hair pulled into a bun. Her partner was more tanned, with curly hair and an angular face.
The maybe-Romanian took a step forward. "Take your bag off. Touch that zipper and you die."
"Okay, okay, just relax. You got me," Mia said, slowly reaching for her bag. As she pulled it off, she felt for the small remote inside: the trigger for the EMP devices.
"Set it down!" the guard barked.
"Of course. Whatever you ladies want," Mia said. She kneeled down slowly, lowering her pack to the ground... and clicked the trigger.
Down in the server room, the EMP devices began emitting a high pitched whirring. The blue lights of the servers flickered, then went red as the whirring turned up to a crescendo.
For a split second, the lights on the ship turned the brightest they'd ever been.
Then, the boat was suddenly plunged into blackness. "What??" the Romanian exclaimed. The sentries glanced around wildly. Acting on their confusion, Mia dashed towards the nearest one with a slight smile.
Three hours later...
The world was rocking back and forth. A spray of water hit Nadia in the face. She stirred, slowly blinking awake.
She was on the deck of the yacht tender. As it hit another wave, Nadia was lifted and sent crashing down onto the deck. She grunted, shocked into consciousness.
Nadia suddenly became aware that she was topless. She lifted her hands to find they'd been tightly bound together with her yellow bikini top. On either side of her lay two of her guards, Irina and Fiorella, out cold. They had similarly been relieved of their swimsuits, used to bind their hands, leaving both women completely nude. Their naked bodies jiggled in rhythm with the crashing waves.
Nadia rolled on her side and shook Irina, trying to wake her. The Romanian quietly moaned, but remained fast asleep.
"They'll be out for a while."
Nadia looked up to see Mia standing over them, grinning. "Hope you don't mind sharing the ride. Met these two girls on my way out and figured I'd bring them along."
The Russian glanced around. "Where are we?"
"On our way to meet some people," Mia said, reaching inside her pack. "My boss has some things to hash out with you." She pulled out the stapler.
Nadia's eyes widened. "Wait wait, hold on. You don't have to do that," she said, raising her hands up. "I can go awake, I promise."
Mia ignored her and knelt down. She straddled Nadia's body, pinning her legs together and her arms down. The Russian squirmed beneath her, but she was still weak from the sedative.
"You must have quite the tolerance," Mia whistled. "This stuff puts most people out for twice as long as your little cat nap."
"Don't put me back to sleep. We can make a deal."
"I'm sure you can," Mia replied as she brought the stapler up to Nadia's neck. "It's just not my deal to make."
Fwunk. Nadia cried out, her back arching, then relaxed. Her eyes became unfocused. Mia worried slightly that the dose was too much, but she couldn't risk being overpowered on this tiny boat.
With a final groan, Nadia went limp, her head lolled to the side. Mia brushed the blonde hair from her face and lifted her head, giving her a kiss on her slack mouth. She smiled. The Russian, who had been so cold and calculating before, was now sleeping like a baby, peacefully devoid of thought.
The agent dropped Nadia back to the ground and stood up. She stepped back to the steering wheel and spoke into her ear piece. "Bishop-2, this is Bishop-1. Mission accomplished. Heading to the rendezvous point now with some extra luggage."
Indira's voice crackled back. "You're a champion. See you soon."
Mia glanced back and admired her handiwork. Three senseless women laid side by side in a row, their breasts exposed to the sky.
"Sleep tight, ladies," Mia said with a grin. "It's gonna be a long ride back to Montenegro."
