NewUser
Magistrate
Well, they will also have a defibrillator with them, as well as a helicopter with all the necessary medical equipment. Don't they???
Does Kat know how to do heart massage and mouth-to-mouth resuscitation?
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Sexpionage II
- Thread starter Fossy
- Start date
Does Kat know how to do heart massage and mouth-to-mouth resuscitation?
Fossy
SEXPIOGENTUS
All of the above, so our hope can be genuine ...
Loinclothslave
slave to the whip
And ALL our wishes fulfilled!
This very simple descriptive sentence soooo caught my attention. The Lord’s Prayer recited by Grace as she faced the noose was a nice touch too.
Fossy
SEXPIOGENTUS
Enlightenment (8)
Aleppo, Syria
Former Special Agent Ekaterina Novikova rested the muzzle of her assault rifle, an M4A1, on top of the sand-covered stone wall. her Special Forces squad had been kitted out with the silenced version of the M4 before being dropped near the outskirts of the ruined part of town.
Their assignment being to neutralise the armed terrorists inside the targeted building then seek out and rescue Sophia Moore and her friend, erstwhile colleague and sometime-lover, Grace Miller.
From her position behind the wall, Novikova covered the backs of her three squad members as they entered the rear of the crumbling building some twenty metres away. She waited the prescribed thirty seconds and was about to emerge into the open air when three black-clad figures, armed with AK47s, appeared around the side of the dwelling.
Ducking back behind cover, she risked a glance over the wall and saw the jihadists saunter to the rear entrance, weapons slung over their shoulders, not aware that anything was amiss. After a brief pause by the doorway, they vanished inside.
Cursing through tight lips, she ran through the scenario in her head. Close quarters and stealth. Slinging the M4 over a shoulder, she sprang to her feet and, keeping low, raced toward the building. Yanking the PPX pistol from beneath her vest as she ran, she pulled back, released the slide and heard the reassuring sound of the first-round slamming into the chamber.
She was five metres from the entrance when another figure appeared around the corner to her right. He stopped upon seeing her and then slumped to his knees, before falling face-first into the sand with a neat entry hole in his forehead.
Keeping her weapon at the ready, Kat slid to a halt beside the building’s rear entrance. With her back pressed hard against the wall, she peered around the doorway’s splintered timber frame. The dwelling’s interior was almost as rough as its exterior. There were no internal doors, and the floors were cold, stark concrete, surrounded by bullet-ridden walls, encasing several separate rooms over two floors.
After a hasty glance around to check for more advancing terrorists, she pushed off the wall and strode with purpose into the first room, scanning left to right, holding the M4 ahead of her, finger poised on the trigger. As expected, the room was empty.
Clear.
She moved into the next room, once again checking left to right.
Clear.
As she entered the third, the hair on the back of her neck stood on end. Her PPX hissed and flashed twice in the dimly lit room, dropping two of the insurgents to her right. Before she could engage the third on her left, Hamza had his own pistol aimed at her.
The sound of an M4 strafe filled the room as two short bursts littered Hamza’s chest. The terrorist leader let out a scream and slid to the floor, releasing his own shot into the already cracked ceiling.
Then Kat saw her. Grace. Hanging by her neck, limp and lifeless.
“Fuck. No. Fuck. Please. No …” She ran to the lifeless girl and gripped her legs.
“Help me here. Get her down now!”
The scene in the yard of the Target House as Grace and Sophia are brought outside
“What if we don’t make it to the hospital in time?”
Grace had not been breathing. Chest compressions preceding the appearance of a defib had helped to shock her vital signs back into muted activity.
“We will Kat, trust us.”
There was a babble of voices speaking in a mixture of English and Turkish, and then Grace was placed on a stretcher and loaded up into the first T129. Several people in combat jackets bustled around her, one man barking out orders in that same strangely mixed language, as an IV needle was attached to her wrist.
Kat watched as the helicopter took off before turning to see Sophia Moore being helped from the ruined building. She was covered by a blanket that she was gripping tightly to her chest.
“I can walk on my own,” she was protesting weakly.
“Like hell you can.” The medics tone was unnecessarily harsh, which Kat understood, watching as Roger Moore’s daughter was strapped into the bucket style seats of the T129. The young girl turned to Ekaterina and whispered “Thank you.” Then Sophia’s stomach lurched, and she grabbed for the brown paper bag that was lying conveniently in front of her. Sudden hot nausea boiled up in her throat, and she vomited into the bag, her entire body sweating and shaking as the chopper took off.
Peace Shield Operations Centre”, Serinyol, Antakya in the Hatay Province of Turkey
Kat held Sophia and soothed her. Grace Miller was already back in the UK, having been transferred to a medically converted A400M Airbus.
“Does my dad know we’re safe?” The young girl asked.
“He does, yes Sophia, he knows.”
Roger Moore had been connected to the mission in real time and so he knew just what was happening when it happened. However, a call had not yet been made to the Moore residence. But now that his daughter was safe at the Operations Centre, that call to Roger Moore could happen.
“Please call them, I want to speak to my mum and dad.”
Kat nodded and reached for the nearby secure, ruggedised hand set, then punched in Roger Moore’s home phone number.
He answered immediately.
“She is safe. We’re bringing her home,” Kat said. Even from the other end of the phone, she could feel the Moore family’s sense of relief.
“Thank you, thank you so much, Ekaterina, I can never repay you for this.” His voice was drowned with sobs.
“I’m sure I will think of something,” Kat quipped, an inappropriate smirk on her pretty face.
Sophia was still wrapped in a blanket, becoming more alert by the second, as she took the phone and held it to the side of her face.
“I’m coming home dad,” she murmured, smiling through her tears.
And there we end another series of Sexpionage. I hope you enjoyed it and thank you as always for your support. Kat, Grace, Sophia and I will be taking a little break now while we refresh and replenish … But, in the words of the great ‘Arnie’ … We will be back! Keep watching this space … and I will make sure to keep everyone posted.
Fossy.
Aleppo, Syria
Former Special Agent Ekaterina Novikova rested the muzzle of her assault rifle, an M4A1, on top of the sand-covered stone wall. her Special Forces squad had been kitted out with the silenced version of the M4 before being dropped near the outskirts of the ruined part of town.
Their assignment being to neutralise the armed terrorists inside the targeted building then seek out and rescue Sophia Moore and her friend, erstwhile colleague and sometime-lover, Grace Miller.
From her position behind the wall, Novikova covered the backs of her three squad members as they entered the rear of the crumbling building some twenty metres away. She waited the prescribed thirty seconds and was about to emerge into the open air when three black-clad figures, armed with AK47s, appeared around the side of the dwelling.
Ducking back behind cover, she risked a glance over the wall and saw the jihadists saunter to the rear entrance, weapons slung over their shoulders, not aware that anything was amiss. After a brief pause by the doorway, they vanished inside.
Cursing through tight lips, she ran through the scenario in her head. Close quarters and stealth. Slinging the M4 over a shoulder, she sprang to her feet and, keeping low, raced toward the building. Yanking the PPX pistol from beneath her vest as she ran, she pulled back, released the slide and heard the reassuring sound of the first-round slamming into the chamber.
She was five metres from the entrance when another figure appeared around the corner to her right. He stopped upon seeing her and then slumped to his knees, before falling face-first into the sand with a neat entry hole in his forehead.
Keeping her weapon at the ready, Kat slid to a halt beside the building’s rear entrance. With her back pressed hard against the wall, she peered around the doorway’s splintered timber frame. The dwelling’s interior was almost as rough as its exterior. There were no internal doors, and the floors were cold, stark concrete, surrounded by bullet-ridden walls, encasing several separate rooms over two floors.
After a hasty glance around to check for more advancing terrorists, she pushed off the wall and strode with purpose into the first room, scanning left to right, holding the M4 ahead of her, finger poised on the trigger. As expected, the room was empty.
Clear.
She moved into the next room, once again checking left to right.
Clear.
As she entered the third, the hair on the back of her neck stood on end. Her PPX hissed and flashed twice in the dimly lit room, dropping two of the insurgents to her right. Before she could engage the third on her left, Hamza had his own pistol aimed at her.
The sound of an M4 strafe filled the room as two short bursts littered Hamza’s chest. The terrorist leader let out a scream and slid to the floor, releasing his own shot into the already cracked ceiling.
Then Kat saw her. Grace. Hanging by her neck, limp and lifeless.
“Fuck. No. Fuck. Please. No …” She ran to the lifeless girl and gripped her legs.
“Help me here. Get her down now!”
The scene in the yard of the Target House as Grace and Sophia are brought outside
“What if we don’t make it to the hospital in time?”
Grace had not been breathing. Chest compressions preceding the appearance of a defib had helped to shock her vital signs back into muted activity.
“We will Kat, trust us.”
There was a babble of voices speaking in a mixture of English and Turkish, and then Grace was placed on a stretcher and loaded up into the first T129. Several people in combat jackets bustled around her, one man barking out orders in that same strangely mixed language, as an IV needle was attached to her wrist.
Kat watched as the helicopter took off before turning to see Sophia Moore being helped from the ruined building. She was covered by a blanket that she was gripping tightly to her chest.
“I can walk on my own,” she was protesting weakly.
“Like hell you can.” The medics tone was unnecessarily harsh, which Kat understood, watching as Roger Moore’s daughter was strapped into the bucket style seats of the T129. The young girl turned to Ekaterina and whispered “Thank you.” Then Sophia’s stomach lurched, and she grabbed for the brown paper bag that was lying conveniently in front of her. Sudden hot nausea boiled up in her throat, and she vomited into the bag, her entire body sweating and shaking as the chopper took off.
Peace Shield Operations Centre”, Serinyol, Antakya in the Hatay Province of Turkey
Kat held Sophia and soothed her. Grace Miller was already back in the UK, having been transferred to a medically converted A400M Airbus.
“Does my dad know we’re safe?” The young girl asked.
“He does, yes Sophia, he knows.”
Roger Moore had been connected to the mission in real time and so he knew just what was happening when it happened. However, a call had not yet been made to the Moore residence. But now that his daughter was safe at the Operations Centre, that call to Roger Moore could happen.
“Please call them, I want to speak to my mum and dad.”
Kat nodded and reached for the nearby secure, ruggedised hand set, then punched in Roger Moore’s home phone number.
He answered immediately.
“She is safe. We’re bringing her home,” Kat said. Even from the other end of the phone, she could feel the Moore family’s sense of relief.
“Thank you, thank you so much, Ekaterina, I can never repay you for this.” His voice was drowned with sobs.
“I’m sure I will think of something,” Kat quipped, an inappropriate smirk on her pretty face.
Sophia was still wrapped in a blanket, becoming more alert by the second, as she took the phone and held it to the side of her face.
“I’m coming home dad,” she murmured, smiling through her tears.
And there we end another series of Sexpionage. I hope you enjoyed it and thank you as always for your support. Kat, Grace, Sophia and I will be taking a little break now while we refresh and replenish … But, in the words of the great ‘Arnie’ … We will be back! Keep watching this space … and I will make sure to keep everyone posted.
Fossy.
Loinclothslave
slave to the whip
Wow, great series, @Fossy and what a cracking pace you set! I’m still blinking after the quick finish.
I wonder what Grace saw in the darkness after that final flash of light? A tie in with one of the more mystical stories on Crux…
“Ripping Yarn” seems a precise description, thank you @Fossy i look forward to catching up with the rest of this fast paced series!
I wonder what Grace saw in the darkness after that final flash of light? A tie in with one of the more mystical stories on Crux…
“Ripping Yarn” seems a precise description, thank you @Fossy i look forward to catching up with the rest of this fast paced series!
Fossy
SEXPIOGENTUS
Thanks for your wonderful support and continued feedback Loin', it is very much appreciated. There will be a good few weeks break now whilst we reset (I actually have a non Sexpionage idea for a tale that I might like to pursue next, but we'll see). So, there will be plenty of time for catch up ...
NewUser
Magistrate
I have never been so happy that I made a mistake(of course I was counting on it) in previous post. And Grace will also please us with her
Praefectus Praetorio
R.I.P. Brother of the Quill
Kat's torment of the prisoner and her personal gratification provided a great pause in the other action. Just what was needed here, good choice.
Nobody, but all us drooling readers!
Sorry, @NewUser, that is a silly question. Kat knows every inch of Grace's mouth and chest!
Ripping, Yarn, @Fossy. One of your best at grabbing and tearing at our emotions.
Fine Job!
Fossy
SEXPIOGENTUS
Thanks for the wonderful feedback PrPr my friend, its always so very much appreciated.
Fossy
SEXPIOGENTUS
I have to admit that I was tempted to let her die just for the dramatic effect, but there was no way I could lose a character the I/we all love so much.
Fossy
SEXPIOGENTUS
Glad you enjoyed it Cat ... the first set of stories can be found on CF at this link https://www.cruxforums.com/xf/threads/sexpionage.8609/post-579092
I will check you out on DevArt too.
catOnine
Executioner
I´ve read every single sentence and saw all pics....
Fossy
SEXPIOGENTUS
It really is my pleasure Barb
...
Fossy
SEXPIOGENTUS
All I can currently say is that I was recently inspired by the TV series 'Roman Empire' and next week I leave home for a two week walking and touring holiday along the 90 mile length of Hadrian's Wall, where I shall seek further inspiration
However, ultimately Kat, Grace et al will return ...
I’m already imagining you imagining the Roman display of tortured barbarians every so often along the way.
NewUser
Magistrate
All I can currently say is that I was recently inspired by the TV series 'Roman Empire' and next week I leave home for a two week walking and touring holiday along the 90 mile length of Hadrian's Wall, where I shall seek further inspiration
However, ultimately Kat, Grace et al will return ...
The Roman Centurion's Song by Rudyard Kipling
LEGATE, I had the news last night - my cohort ordered home
By ships to Portus Itius and thence by road to Rome.
I've marched the companies aboard, the arms are stowed below:
Now let another take my sword. Command me not to go!
I've served in Britain forty years, from Vectis to the Wall,
I have none other home than this, nor any life at all.
Last night I did not understand, but, now the hour draws near
That calls me to my native land, I feel that land is here.
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