Since I went to bed early, my internal clock went off at 5AM. I dressed in my shorts and tee shirt for the morning run. I took off at 5:15 AM to run along a trail in the swamp. I knew I could get lost, so I decided to turn around after a half hour and run back.
When I turned around, I ran right into two very fit looking men. They had short hair cuts, and muscles everywhere. I felt like a wimp compared to them. “You are Sylvia Porter right?” one of them asked.
“Yes I am. How did you know?” I asked.
“We were tasked with making sure nothing happened to you on this run. We know you run every morning,” The other one said.
“Did they also tell you that I hate to run?” I asked.
“Yes ma’am they did. It is one of the signs of a good soldier. One who does, what he doesn’t want to do, just because it is the right thing to do.” the first one said.
“That’s too fucking Zen for me,” I said.
“Me too, just something I heard,” he said.
“Well I don’t know about you two, but I’m headed back,” I said.
“After you ma’am,” They said. I knew they were slowing down their run just to be sure no one grabbed me. I would still rather have been tooled up, than be an anyones else’s mercy.
I was in the shower forty five minutes, when I heard the outside door open. It wasn’t hard for me to think what to do. I put the bar of soap in the towel. The one I should have used to dry my ass. I stepped into the main room of the small trailer swinging the towel.
I was about to slap the man in the head with the towel, when he raised his hand. “It is a great view, but I would enjoy it more, if you weren’t about to do battle with me,” the man in desert camouflage fatigues said.
“Okay, then who the fuck are you?” I asked.
“David Theodore Smith,” he said.
“Bull shit,” I replied.
“True, but none of us give our real names,” he said. “I’m here to take you to breakfast.”
“Well that’s better than what I thought,” I said.
“What did you think,” he said.
“Well there are all kinds of nasty things that can happen to a poor defenseless woman all alone,” I admitted.
“Lady, I don’t think you are defenseless for one god damn minute,” he said smiling.
“Well I will have breakfast with you just give me a minute.” I said that and waited till he nodded. I pulled a pair of panties on first, then one of my Russian commando knock off tee shirts finally I pulled on a part of jeans. I did stop long enough to slip into a pair of leather moccasins. “Okay, let’s go.”
“You bet,” he said. It was almost 7AM, when we got to the dining hall. I almost felt like I was back in the Air Force. The food was served from behind a long counter by a couple of kitchen people who passed the plate down the line till it was full of food. I managed to skip the coffee even though I wanted it badly. I got the orange juice instead,
I sat at a table already occupied by Colonel Martin. “I thought you were through with me?” I asked.
“Well, we almost were. You are a willful bitch,” he said. “But we like that here.”
“Okay,” I said.
“The captain here filled me in on your misunderstanding with him. Something about a prison baton.” the colonel said.
“I didn’t have time to make a shank,” I said.
“I don’t believe that for a minute. Let me see what you have in your pockets.” he demanded.
I showed him the knife from the fast food restaurant, the fork with all the two outer tines broken off, leaving only the two in the middle, and the plastic spoon. “If you had given me another hour, I would have had a toothbrush shank.” I informed him.
“Unfucking believable,” the man who had escorted me to breakfast said.
“And that Captain, is why I didn’t cut her loose,” Martin said.
“If I’m not fired, why did you pull me off the Soda Pop tour?” I asked.
“I want you to come to work for us as a contractor. Someone we can hire by the job, when something that matches you abilities comes along. Sylvia, we know what all your abilities are, and I do mean all.” Martin said.
It was his way of telling me he had seen my Internet porn. I just nodded my understanding.
“So are you interested?” he asked.
“You are going to have to give me a for instance?” I asked.
“Well, say we have a diamond dealer in New York, who wants us to supply a courier for a big shipment to Las Vegas.” He informed me.
“The shipment is big enough to pay you to carry it there,” I asked.
“It is.” the captain with him said. “So tell us how you would do it.”
“I would send them by UPS, who would think they were carrying a box of chocolate candy.” I said.
“But if I was going to defend them. I would want a fast car and a pistol and stun gun. Then I would leave the weapons in the airport before I boarded the plane. I would be sure I had another pistol and stun gun waited for me in Vegas. I would also wear a bullet proof vest. Another fast car to make the delivery.” I said.
“Not bad at all, how about on the plane?” Martin asked.
“A tooth brush with a pointed handle,” I suggested.
“See why I wanted her,” Martin said.
“Yeah, I think she will do,” the captain said. “I think she could also pull off the girlfriend or the hooker parts as well.”
“What has being able to pull off the hooker thing got to do with being a diamond courier?” I asked.
“The courier thing was just an example,” the colonel said. “We have all kinds of domestic job offers these days. With the current government in place, there isn’t a lot of trust around. Used to be you knew pretty much what to expect. These days, with the government actually attacking civil liberties, you don’t know any more.”
“Sounds a little paranoid, if you don’t mind me saying so,” I said with a smile.
“Well paranoia is good for business, the more the better.” was his reply.
“So you in or out,” the Captain asked.
“Oh I’m in, what else can I do,” I replied. “I doubt that I’ll get another job that won’t put me to sleep.”
“Then you need to qualify on our range. Then take a few self defense courses, then you can go home and rest till we find a job that fits your skill set. At least something you come close to filling the client’s needs,” the Colonel said.
“Let me ask you one thing, why me?” I asked.
“Why you, my my, you do ask the right questions. I don’t think you are afraid of the truth. Okay, we can teach anyone to shoot. We can teach anyone how to kill with a knife or a pencil. After all that time and money, when it comes right down to it, we can’t teach them to actually kill. You Sylvia Porter are a proven product. We might be able to raise your skill level, and teach you better ways to do it, but you have already proved you will kill.”
“I am not an assassin,” I replied.
He looked at me hard then said, “I have assassins, what I don’t have is a woman who will fuck her way into a targets confidence, then kill him efficiently. You are that woman, whether you believe it or not.”
The words were certainly not a compliment for sure. I hoped they weren’t really true either. I did believe that you could no longer have a reasonable expectation of justice or even protection of your constitutional rights from the government. I wasn’t quite ready to buy into the idea of a private army yet.
Still I loved the danger, I had to admit. I also loved a good puzzle. It sounded like I would get both with Swamp Thing.
After breakfast I met a retired sergeant major from the British Commandos, the SAS. He was a mean old bastard, “Go back to your quarters and remove that shirt or you might well be a target on the range.”
I almost complained, but I went back and replaced the tee shirt with a red one tight and soft enough for my nipples to show. I figured I would make sure no one shot me by accident.
“I have no idea what you will be able to do with the club hand, but my job is to evaluate your weapons skill level.” he said.
“And what should I call you?” I asked.
“You can call me anything you like behind closed doors. On this range you will address me as Sergeant Major.” he said angrily.
So it was going to be that kind of game. “Right Sergeant Major, am I suitably attired?” I asked.
“If this were to evaluate you as a slut, you would be. Never mind let see what you have lady, and I use that term loosely.” With that he walked toward a apparently empty part of the compound. At the gate that led to the abandoned area he stopped. From his holster he removed a much larger and heavier Glock than I had in the field. He gave me a spare magazine and said walk to the end of the range. “Try not to kill to many friendlies.”
I was a live fire shoot, don’t shoot course. Shit I hated those fucking things. The walk was about half a mile. The targets presented themselves. The number one picture was a mother pushing the baby’s carriage and number two was a cop. Then came three straight bad guys. I shot them as they thought us on the Air Force’s combat range, Two shots to the center body mass. I continued shooting terrorist and bank robbers till I was half way through. I leaned against a building to transfer the pistol to my club hand as the sergeant major had put it. I used my good hand to load a new magazine, then I went back into the street. I wasn’t in a hurry. My mission was to lure the bad guys out then kill them.
When I got near the end, what looked like a real person popped up holding an outstretched arm with what looked like a gun, but it was really a bible. I held off on him and immediately a man dressed as priest with a small pistol came around a building. I double tapped him, then it was just over. My body was filled with adrenaline, my heart was near the point of exploding.
The sergeant major came from nowhere. “So how did I do?” I asked.
“You got all the bad guys and one questionable target. It was a possibly a bad guy but he might have been a butcher,” he said.
“I heard him yelling Alla Akbar, as he waved that meat hook at me,” I said in my own defense. That’s my story officer and I’m sticking to it.
“You are a real smart ass Porter,” he said. ‘If you were in my company I would knock that out of you,”
“You wouldn’t hit a poor little skinny assed girl would you? At least not one holding your weapon.” I said holding the pistol pointed to the ground at his feet.”
“It’s empty,” he said.
“Would you bet your life on it Sergeant Major?” I asked.
“Well now I have to know Porter,” he said. So I pulled the trigger and fired into the ground in front of him.
“You may return to your quarters, while I discuss this incident with the Colonel,” he said to me.
I handed him the weapon and then said, “Don’t forget to clean it Sergeant Major.”