"Reloading!"
Tsubaki shot around the backside of the crawler as it spun-out--toppling end-over-end across the street before colliding with a food stall on the sidewalk. With the rearguard out of the way, they had a clear line to Morello's limo. Revving the throttle, the two-woman hit squad burst forward after the speeding vehicle. No doubt the banker was pissing himself right now.
As they caught up to their mark, Tsubaki fired a few random shots at the passenger-side window. Just as she thought: bulletproof.
Good.
"LAY INTO THEM!" she ordered over the roar of the motorcycle engine. Mal did as commanded--covering the right side of the limo in a torrent of machine gun fire. Up ahead, Tsubaki spotted the final crawler looking for an opening. "I'M MOVING UP! LET'S PUSH THEM TOWARDS THE NEXT TURN! THEY BETTER TAKE THE BAIT!"
The limo swerved back and forth across the street, desperately hoping to clip their bike as the two women pressed the attack. When the turn finally came, the driver took the opportunity to break away from their pursuers--making a sudden sharp turn left, onto the connecting street, nearly flipping over in the process. With the limo gone, the last surviving crawler finally had them in their sights.
So far, so good.
Tsubaki weaved in and out of incoming fire, hoping Mal could get a steady shot despite the turbulence. "MOON!" she shouted over the comm. "MORELLO'S HEADED RIGHT FOR YOU! O'LAFFERTEY, I NEED YOU ON THAT LIMO AS SOON AS MOON TAKES OUT THE DRIVER! OVER!"
***********************************************************************************************************************************************
"See you on the ship."
Sprout fought off the sudden lightheadedness and gave his lover a wink. "Aye, aye," he chuckled.
"Relaaaax, kid. I think they got the mess-Ooooooooh."
"Keep yer eye on the ball, Lil," he whined. "Don' waste time pilferin' shit off'a grannies. We got mooks ta' watch over!"
"I'm not a mook..." an injured security guard groaned.
Sprout spun on his heel, pointing his weapon squarely at the man's head. "DID I SAY YOU COULD SPEAK, MOTHER FUCKER?!" he roared. The man shrank. "THAT'S FUCKIN' RIGHT! SIT THE FUCK DOWN AN' SHUT THE FUCK UP LEST YA' WANNA EXTRA ASS HOLE!"
Castello's men did as they were told.
***
"She gonna be okay?"
Bennie shrugged. "Ask the doctor," he said. The big man remained silent as Maria worked, doing exactly as instructed. The young woman wasn't looking too hot, but Maria was a pro. If anyone could save her...
"If she survives, she's gonna have a lot of physio ahead of her."
"You!" Bennie shouted, pointing at a nearby civilian. He was a well dressed man--likely a noble. "You know this woman?" Terrified, the man shook his head. "She's in rough shape, but she's stable. Look after her, okay?"
The man simply stared in disbelief.
"DO I HAVE TO REPEAT MYSELF?!" Bennie inquired, aggressively.
The man complied after that.
On his feet now, Bennie cast his gaze across the room. "Let's get the fuck out of here," he muttered before putting his finger to his comm. "Tal, Brock, do you copy?"
No point in using the codenames now.
"I copy you, Captain," Tallahassee replied. "Just made it to security. Sandra's here, Castello too. Orders?"
Bennie thought for a moment. "Take him with us for insurance. We'll set him loose once it's safe," he instructed.
"Roger that."
*************************************************************************************************************************************************
Elizabeth stood in front of the door awhile after Florian's departure. Some small part of her was holding out hope that he'd change his mind. Once she heard Erik's voice echoing down the hallway, that dream died.
Oh well, she thought to herself, bitterly.
Would have been a bad idea, anyway. Maybe. Probably.
She was exhausted anyway... and drunk! She couldn't make such important decisions in such a state!
I wish Asad were here. He'd feed me toast and rub my back until I fell asleep.
Sauntering into her bedroom, the weary noblewoman slipped out of her dress, leaving it in a crumpled heap on the floor. Elegance wasn't really a priority at this point. She nearly bashed her forehead against the night stand as she struggled to remove her earrings, and once they were finally discarded, Elizabeth flopped onto her bed--instantly sinking into it's deep, fluffy satin sheets. She usually wore a nightgown to bed (she didn't want to catch a cold, after all), but that was way too much work for drunk Liz. No, a g-string and a mountain of blankets would have to do.
It didn't take her long to get comfortable, but after lying down for several minutes she realized she really wasn't all that sleepy. She was utterly pooped, sure, but still buzzed. Still alert. That was when she remembered the bath from earlier.
She recalled the heat. That hansom grin on Florian's face. His flirting. His charm. The dream.
The heat had returned.
Before she'd even realized it Elizabeth's hand had found its way between her legs. As if controlled by another entity, her thighs pressed tightly together, attempting to expel the invader. She would not give up so easily, however. Biting her bottom lip, the young virgin caressed her inner-thighs with one hand while teasing the brim of her thong with the other. Her thighs couldn't withstand her touch for long, and eventually relented.
Elizabeth gasped sharply as she slipped one hand inside her thong and touched her fingers to what lay underneath. In her mind she saw the object of her lust--the man who held her heart, melting in his hand. She didn't know exactly what it was that she found so fascinating about him. Perhaps it was his mystique, or the honesty in his eyes. Maybe it was just because--underneath it all--he was just a plain good guy.
He was also fucking hot.
"Oh, sh--it," Liz moaned, suddenly feeling something well up inside her. Biting hard on her lip now, she clutched her breast with her left hand and sped up her efforts bellow.
They could share their scars--and not just the physical ones either. They would connect in both body and soul. She knew he could do that for her.
He could also ram his fat---
"F-f-f-f-fuck!" she cried, digging her fingers deeper than ever before, as if compelled by some primal instinct. She was a slave to her lust. There was no stopping it now.
After her sixth climax, Liz's wrist was beginning to cramp.
Satisfied, the exhausted noble rolled over to the other side of the bed and curled into a tight ball. As she drifted off, she thought of the world she wished to create, and who she wanted standing by her side at the end of it all. Perhaps it was too much to ask.
Or, perhaps not.
