Summer
Terror
Prepare
yourself for a long story. This is a work of fiction.
Counterterrorism Centre
2000 hours
"Hey, still working?"
Georgina Watkins turned to see her boss Callum Studdard peering over the officer
divider.
"Yeah, naturally, it's this damn picture," she tapped the enlarged
photograph on her LCD screen.
"I know, I know, but the whole section has left for the day and everyone
has burnt their hours searching for them. You should really head home."
"But these..."
"Up to you. Remember, the dateline is tight, but we don't want officers
like you burnt out. See you in the morning."
What a prick, she thought as he switched off the rest of the office lights and
exited. Watkins was part of the Counterterrorism Centre and the photograph was
her present case. It contained three university-level girls who were kidnapped
by a Jihadist terrorist group during their summer holidays in the Caribbean.
The first on the left was Sophia Wood, a biology student. At 5 foot 11 and a
half and 30B, Sophia was wearing a halter bikini with light blue pixels. Next
to her of equal height and 32A, was red-headed Harriet Webster-Field, clad in
pure white halter bikini with lop-sided cups. On her left or the extreme right
was Becca Judson, 6 foot with almost same cup size as Harriet. She was in a
strapless floral bikini with the bikini bottoms in a wide V-shape. Sophia and
Harriet were holding half-drank beers and all three girls were smiling. That
happiness most definitely had disappeared as all three were kidnapped with
their rented boat found hours later along with the picture in the camera's SD
card. The kidnapping was top priority as Harriet was the daughter of the
counter-terrorism minister.
Undisclosed Location in a South American country
Early Evening
The noisy truck slowly halted. "Check on our packages, make sure they
obey," the leader muttered to his protege in a coarse Middle Eastern
language. After a grunt and a twist of stiff limbs, the young man grabbed a
rifle and climbed over the back. Removing a plank, he revealed Sophia and
Rebecca, both tightly bound with coils of coarse rope. The rope covered both
girls' ankles, knees, wrists and elbows. Both of them had thick pieces of cloth
inside their mouth secured with even thicker pieces of cloth and both were
blindfolded with thick black handkerchiefs.
"We're now approaching a patrol. Absolutely no noise from you two or your
friend gets it? Nod?" Both girls slowly did so, unable to move their limbs
after the hours in bondage. Harriet was in the front seat and dressed in a
burqa which covered her face. Underneath, her hands were bound by her side and
she also had thick smelly handkerchiefs inside her mouth with another round of
cloth securing them. Satisfied that the girls took the threat seriously, the
young man checked their bonds, fondled their boobs and then returned to the
front.
Five minutes of travel later, they reached a border crossing and both men got
out handing over their fake passports. "And her?" The customs officer
gestured to the fully-covered girl.
"She's my wife, she has to be dressed so and has had a cough," the
senior man replied, presenting another fake passport with one hand and
fingering a gun underneath his robes.
"What's in your van?"
"Medical supplies for the Islamic refugee camp," came the reply and
true enough, there were dozens of boxes with official medical labelling. It had
been a long day and the customs staff weren't that muscular in size.
"Pass, make sure you follow the road and all police instructions," he
grunted. The two man thank him and set off. Instead of following instructions,
they veered off road immediately and stopped again. Harriet, despite muted
protests, was dragged back to the back. They yanked off her burqa, fondled her,
and then placed her along with her friends underneath the boxes of fake medical
supplies.
Counterterrorism
Centre
The next morning
"I got something!" Georgina yelled.
Callum motioned her over to a corner, berated her for shouting out loud, then
asked what was it.
"A South American contact was watching for illegal contraband when he noted
a truck with two Arabic men passing a customs stop. Although he was further
away, he noticed a woman in burqa in the seat and the manifest said medical
supplies. But the truck's bottom looked too large. He wanted to get access to
the whole truck, but they passed through."
"That's all? Sounds very flimsy."
"That's the best we have for weeks. I want a drone out to check out this
truck--the contact has the plate numbers."
"You want to re-route a drone based on this flimsy lead? You know how much
it will cost?"
"Big enough since one of the girls is the daughter of a Minister. Must I
say please?"
Somewhere in
South America
Sometime later
"Drone. Bah, western technology. But by Allah's sake, our technology will
ward the drone off," the leader, named Tariq, announced after pressing
some buttons on a device. "The whores still there?"
"Of course," his younger companion Ahmed answer.
"Check and relief," he ordered.
"They can last."
"Do not disobey, now!" Ahmed shook his head and headed over to the
back. He first hoisted Sophia over his shoulders, carried her a couple of feet
then stood her up. After whispering in her ear, the undergraduate shook with
fear and turned bright red with embarrassment as Ahmed yanked her skimpy bikini
bottoms down. He did not turn away and Sophia was still red with embarrassment
as she squatted and peeed. Without any fan fair, he pulled up her bottoms, then
carried her back to the truck. Becca was next, and she too turned bright red as
her floral bikini bottoms were yanked down and she relieved herself in from of
the terrorist. Harriet the last, but as he yanked her white bottoms down,
Harriet mumbled something through her gag. Given a disgusted look, Ahmed turned
around but that gave the red-haired girl the opportunity to kick away her ankle
bonds and run. Being still blindfolded, she did not make it far before both men
caught her again. "You stinking whore," Tariq hissed. "You're
lucky your mother is important enough for you to be killed."
Counterterrorism
Centre
"Told you it was a flimsy chase," Studdard remarked, as he closed the
photographs they viewed. The truck was nowhere in sight.
"I still think we're on to something," countered Watkins.
"Well, I'm not authorising anymore drones until you have something,"
her boss countered and left.
Somewhere in
South America
The truck was rattling again but was much different. The number plate was
changed and both terrorists were now cleanly shaven and wearing the uniforms of
construction workers. Instead of medical supplies, the boxes were now marked as
'cement', 'bricks' and construction site tools. Sophia and Becca were still
hidden under the boxes, now bound with zip ties all over their legs and arms,
trapped in a hogtie formed by more zip ties and gagged with cloth sealed with duct
tape. They again were blindfold with thick black cloth. Harriet meanwhile was
trapped inside on of the many boxes in a foetal position. Her bikini was cut
off and she was wrapped in the burqa, though it barely covered her crotch. Like
her friends, she as well as bound with zip ties, but in larger numbers around
her thighs and arms. Her mouth was stuff not just with cloth but with the
remains of her smelly bikini bottom and those were secured with more layers of
black duct tape and a thick hood, with also added as a blindfold. All three
girls were now unconscious from a drug injected into their arms as Tariq or
Ahmed did not want to give them any more opportunities to escape.
Suddenly, gunfire erupted all over. Apparently, they had entered a civil war zone!
The truck zig-zagged wildly, dodging the ferocious gunfire, mortars and
anti-tank missiles. Despite years of driving through war zones, Ahmed still got
lucky and the windscreen shattered as a lucky bullet caught him. He jerked the
vehicle towards the side alley but Tariq screamed, "straight on!"
"We're supposed to meet the helicopter there," Ahmed protested.
"Listen, I have new orders. Straight on!" Yelled Tariq. After another
ten more minutes of driving through the madness, they found a small cargo plane
with engines running.
"A plane? I thought you said the infidels can track planes."
"Not one that belongs to the Minister for Transportation and a good ally
of ours," Tariq commented. "Get the whores out and leave the
keys." Ahmed still curious, but did as he was told. By now, the drug had
warned off but a tight slap on their barely covered buttocks shut both Sophia
and Becca up as they were dumped on the plane's aisle. Lifting the box
containing Harriet was of course far more strenuous, but the Minister's
daughter could barely move in her confinement. Meanwhile, Tariq had passed the
truck to another duo and it spluttered off in another direction. Just as it
entered a forested area, the front to wheels were punctured, this time by a set
spike trap. "Freeze, Freeze, don't move!!!" A dozen men cladded
assault rifles pointed their assault rifles the new owners of the truck.
Counterterrorism
Centre
A few minutes later
"The Commandos failed to find any trace of the girls," Georgina
slumped down in her chair. "All the stopped were drug runners who were
hauling low grade heroin in boxes. I can't believe it."
"I better head for the meeting. The Minister needs to face the
truth," Callum Studdard muttered, patted her on the head and left. All
clues pointed to that truck, Georgina thought, staring yet again at the photo
of the three girls. They were definitely there, why, how, could they not be?
Unknown
Island
Hours Later
"Mmmpph," moaned Sophia, having finally recovered from the effects of
the drug. "Mmmpph!" She cried as best as she could. But her cries
were even more muted that before, as there was some tube jammed in her mouth
and locked in place with straps biting into her cheeks. She shifted her hands
and this time felt something circling her wrists. She was handcuffed with her
arms stretched out. Her ankles were chained in some short-chained leg irons.
The source of her cries was not just from the strain of the chains but also due
to an expertly-tied crotch rope that tingled her barely covered clitoris.
"Sommmphhh!" She heard a cry next to her. Becca, was bound and gagged
similarly. Harriet had also received the same treatment. She was topless, but
the men somehow found a pair of skimpy matching white knickers to cover her
crotch which also had a crotch rope over it. Harriet was a wild girl and had
strip topless on various mountain tops before. But she never ever expected to
be forced topless or forced in this predicament. "Mmmm...." the three
girls wailed from the enforced orgasm then they spotted the video camera and
yelped further.
In the next room, Ahmed and Tariq, were fiddling with media devices when
another door open. "How are the catch?" The figure asked.
"All ready," answered Tariq. "They better be worth our
effort."
"Oh, they will be. My clients pay generous. Shall I start with 10,000 US
dollars for the first round? We're up the price by half every half hour,"
Callum Studdard answered. "Split equal between all of us and you'll never
have to work ever again."
The End.
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