Page 10 of Call Sign: Thunder
Carlos turned to his brother excitedly. "I believe this is also a product many powerful men will purchase to control their less than cooperative wives and girlfriends. The applications are limitless."
Ricardo injected a haunting threat. "I'd like to use it on my wife. After five children, she has turned frigid. I suspect this will thaw her out nicely."
Allie's eyes met with one of the soldiers standing closest to her. He had his own dick out of his pants and stood stroking it lovingly as he watched her writhe in agony. She dropped her gaze to his ugly cock. It was almost purple with thick veins running its length, but in that moment, she was desperate for it.
"Please," she begged, unable to repeat the horrific request to fuck her.
She was losing control of everything. Body and mind. Carlos stepped close to examine her again at the exact moment she lost control of her over-full bladder. Some far-away part of her took great joy in splashing hot pee on his expensive shoes.
She hadn't stopped the flow yet when the leather struck her full-on, wrapping around her open privates, striking her clit, pussy and anus in one strike. Her orgasm was immediate. White spots blocked her vision as she almost lost consciousness. This was no ordinary climax. This was drug-induced ecstasy, as evil as LSD, cocaine, or opioids. Her brain knew it was the drugs talking, but she still hated herself as she heard her own voice screaming, "Again!"
Ricardo's leather was happy to oblige her request, biting into her sensitive flesh again. This time, instead of blinding pleasure, Allison succumbed to darkness. The kind of darkness that brought the sweet relief of unconsciousness.
Chapter Five
ZACH
Zach balled his hands into fists, feeling more helpless by the minute, wanting to help the poor young woman being tortured inside the warehouse, but knowing it could be a suicide mission. He could hear her screams of agony from his location outside the warehouse they were holding her in.
After the caravan of SUV's had taken off down the dark road with their American hostage, he had moved on auto-pilot, not stopping to consider the implications of following them. He just knew he couldn't turn a blind eye to what he'd seen. He didn't believe in coincidence. Considering this was the first time in his marine career that he found himself on foot in enemy territory, he assumed running into an American woman in danger was reason enough to take action.
Now, after evaluating his options, he wished to hell he was blissfully up in the air, flying over this fucked up mess, oblivious to the dire situation the beautiful young woman inside found herself facing.
Surprisingly, he'd had no trouble getting inside the walls of the Blanco residence. He suspected the locals were so damn afraid of the powerful crime family that none of them were stupid enough to try to gain access.
Not sure what that says about how smart I am since I'm here.
He'd encountered only one armed guard on patrol inside the walled barrier. Zach had the element of surprise on his side, sliding the blade of his knife across the neck of the man from behind, downing him where he stood. He suspected he'd feel guilty for killing a man later once the adrenaline left his blood stream, but at the moment, he found himself wishing he could repeat his actions on every fucking asshole inside the warehouse.
It hadn't been hard to know where to go. The three SUV's from the road were parked in front of a rather rickety metal shed that looked to serve as a warehouse for some of the crime cartel's illegal goods. He’d moved forward, crouching low and moving from a row of bushes to a stack of empty pallets that made a good cover. From his vantage point, he could see the side door to the warehouse had been left open, carelessly displaying the goods stacked inside. He spotted pallets of wooden crates labeled as electronics, technology, and medical supplies. The crate labeled baby formula seemed out of place.
He saw no signs of the illegal weapons they were on a mission to recover, which didn't surprise Zach. There were three Blanco brothers. While they made one crime family, it was common knowledge that they each headed a different division of their perverted organization. Missing from the warehouse in front of him was Miguel, the gunrunner of the family. With any luck, his marine buddies had neutralized that brother on their mission a few miles away.
Zach wished he'd studied the files on the remaining two brothers more carefully. They were generally deemed as the less dangerous of the threesome, but based on his own observations, he now knew their intel in that area was faulty.
Carlos was the head of the family's large drug running operation. The DEA had several battalions on the ground providing support to the Colombian government as they fought the war on drugs. The marines did not often get tangled up in that particular vice, but listening to the devious crime lord experimenting on the innocent woman strapped to the torture chair, Zach decided he would definitely be making an exception to that rule if he got the chance.
The most evil brother of them all, however, was Ricardo. The youngest of the three, he had not been happy being a second to his oldest brother in running drugs or second to his middle brother in his gunrunning business. It was well known fact that Ricardo made his own fortune peddling flesh. At least the intelligence had pegged it right when it labeled him a sadist who took pleasure in buying, selling, and even kidnapping women and men for the purpose of sexual slavery. When Zach had read the background report on the crime family when he was stationed in the region, he'd assumed some of the salacious stories of sadistic torture had been exaggerated. Now, after watching the brothers in action inside for over fifteen minutes, he knew the stories to be true.
Zach had, of course, radioed in his location and intended actions once he made up his mind to infiltrate the compound. Major McIntyre had lost his shit and ordered Zach to fall back and proceed to the extraction rendezvous. He'd told himself he'd do exactly that just as soon as he'd gotten the intel on where they were holding her and how many guards they would face when they came back for her. He had moved closer to get a better look at what was happening.
But once he'd seen the torture the poor woman inside was being subjected to, he couldn't leave her. Zach had tried to report his change to his superior officer, but Superman must be in the midst of his own mission and on radio silence.
The piercing scream from inside the warehouse tore at his gut. He had limited visibility through a small crack in the wall, but he needed to get closer if he was going to get the info he needed about what was happening.
Zach fell to his chest, crawling along the dusty ground close to the warehouse. He stayed low, glad for the pitch-black night and limited man-made lighting. He was on the south side of the building and had a view of the brightening sky to the east as pre-dawn arrived. The sun would be up soon and he'd be in deep shit.
He stopped directly under the only small window on the entire south side of the building. It would be risky to stand to look in, but he didn't have a choice. He lifted his field binoculars to his face, making a sweep of the wall and surrounding area, relieved to find it free of pesky guards. Dread washed through him as he realized most of them had probably gone inside so they could watch the torture in progress.
Knowing he was running out of time, he broke radio silence to report in; relieved when Superman answered this time.
"You at the backup rendezvous, Thunder?"
"No, sir. The situation on the ground has degraded. We will need extraction from a closer location."
"We, soldier?"
"Yes, sir. We can't leave her behind."
