Mackie's Men (5 page)

Mackie hurried over to the monitor and pulled out a keyboard from the wooden frame of the entertainment center. Fielding and Reynolds looked at each other with surprise. They had gone over every inch of the room and had overlooked that. Each man wondered what else he might have missed. The woman had more gadgets than most action movies and Reynolds found himself envious of the toys she was so comfortable commanding.

Liam watched her fingers fly over the keyboard and wondered what she was doing this time. “Are you going to blow up another building?” She ignored his sarcastic question, and he was not a man who was used to being ignored. He kept goading her, trying to get her to talk to him, to let him in on what she was doing this time. “Ms. Vaught, I’m afraid I will have to demand answers, the company helicopter will be flying back sometime this morning to pick us up, and when they see what your house looks like now, they will certainly dispatch the authorities out here.” Maybe his veiled threat of sending outside influences in would rattle her, but all it did was earn him a quick side glance from her blue eyes.

It didn’t help his mood when first Darryl gave him a hard glare, and then John told him to stop acting like a royal prick while they watched her in action. He’d come close and leaned over to whisper near Liam’s ear.

“You can stop acting like Lord Klinger at anytime now. She’s doing her job and you know it, just because she hasn’t got a cock growing between her legs, doesn’t give you permission to act like a sonofabitch.” John had shaken his head and walked away from him with a disgusted look on his face.

Mackie watched the two men filtering through the rubble of what was left of her home. She used a small toggle on the keyboard to maneuver the cameras to check the perimeter more closely. If there were more men out there she wanted to know about it. The picture zoomed in on one of the men’s faces and the men beside her heard her curse. “That miserable fucking bastard, I’ve got you now you sonofabitch.” She kept the camera on her prey as her left hand continued to type into the keyboard. She started talking to her companions without pause in watching the screen or typing.

“Gentlemen, you see the man on this screen? He is a man about to be charged with treason if the people coming to arrest him get to him before he steps on one of the undetonated explosive devices buried around the property.” She pointed to the second man who stood back from the wreckage watching for anything to move. His gun was drawn down in position to spray bullets into anything that might spook him or his partner. “That man better hope he stays right where he is because about two and a half feet to his right is something that will literally light up his life.” She looked away from the monitor to make eye contact with the men that were watching her rather than the screen. “If you are squeamish or are prone to get sick watching a man blow himself up, you might want to turn your head or find something else to do for a while. It will be another five minutes or so before help arrives and I refuse to disarm anything until they do get here.”

Mackie watched as Reynolds rubbed his hands together and squatted down in front of the monitor watching the slow moving man picking his way through the rubble. She grinned and shook her head,
obviously military and certainly Special Ops or one of the Black Ops boys
, she thought. She watched as Fielding went to the fridge and grabbed a can of soda. Certainly a doctor wouldn’t want to watch needless death. It surprised her that Fielding came back and sat next to her to watch what might happen next. Liam sat quietly on her other side and Mackie was beginning to feel like the meat in a sandwich. Neither man touched her but she felt their warmth and it made her wish for things she couldn’t have.
They would probably freak out if she suggested they all get naked and snuggle together
.

It had been a long time since she had been intimate with a man. Years in fact, before she joined the agency, before she got all the scars decorating her skin now. The long thin lines on her back were gifts from the slavers. At the age of ten she had been abducted and used as a slave by a drug selling gang, along with six other children, to package their poison white powder. Mackie and the rest of the children learned to keep their heads down and their hands busy to avoid being whipped. Unfortunately she had been born a protector and had gotten beatings many times for interfering with another child’s punishment. She was one of the three children who were saved during a bloody turf war. The gang’s rivals showed up one day and opened fire on the gang that held her and the other children.

When they heard the gunfire, the three girls had huddled together in the dingy room in a corner until the shooting stopped and no further noise could be heard. It seemed like hours before she got up and opened the door to see what had happened. The seven people in the next room were in various positions around the tables and chairs, they had been killed before they understood what was going on. Mackie watched as Renaldo limped around the room gathering as much money as he could carry in his plastic grocery bag. She thought it strange at the time that he never looked back when he slowly opened the door and cautiously peeked around it to check and see if the rivals had left the area before slipping outside.

Mackie had turned fifteen by then. Her companions, Carmen and Flora, were fourteen-year-old twins. The girls had cautiously gathered the messy stacks of twenties and hundred dollar bills and filled a backpack for each of them. Carmen and Flora wanted to go home to their family and, after the girls found clean clothing in a closet where their keepers had slept, they slipped out of the building. Mackie went with them to the bus station and watched as they boarded the bus to take them back to San Antonio. Mackie had no home to go to. Her parents were a distant memory. She had been taken from a foster home in Tulsa, Oklahoma.

After leaving the bus station, Mackie decided to go back to the small dingy house and wait until morning to decide what she was going to do. Her back was still bloody from the whipping that Carlos enjoyed giving her almost daily now. She left the bodies where they laid and started going through several envelopes of papers. Some looked like deeds to land, some were I.O.U’s from the junkies and dope peddlers that visited the little house each time a new batch of drugs were delivered. She gathered the things she thought were deeds and the rest of the larger denomination bills. By the time she was ready to leave, she had to figure out how to carry the three heavy black totes full of cash and papers. She didn’t know how to drive so taking one of the many vehicles in the driveway wasn’t an option, she searched the house looking for inspiration and found a large suitcase with a handle and wheels to transfer the heavy cache into so she was left with a large suitcase and a messenger bag.

She left the only home she had known for years that afternoon taking Bianca’s state identification with her. Bianca had been one of the slave children until Jorge decided that she would make a good bed companion and took her into his room. Within a few weeks Bianca was an addict. She always sported bruises on her limbs and face but the white powder made the pain go away. She remembered the way Jorge would make Bianca crawl on her hands and knees to beg for the white poison. First he would tell her to lick his cock and he would sprinkle the powder over the surface of his damp flesh and tell her to pull the cheeks of her ass wide for her reward. He would slam his hard cock into her cunt or asshole, whichever slot his thick cock hit first, and she would scream and beg him for more as he brutally forced himself inside of her body. Two days before, she watched as he gave her to two of his friends as she begged for the drug and one man laid down forcing her to straddle his small cock while the other shoved his into her rear hole. Jorge shoved his cock into her mouth, pulled it out, and dipped it into a small plastic tub of the powder, coating his thick cock from head to pubic hair. Bianca swallowed his cock down her throat and her body went wild.

The men slapped her all over her body and Jorge yanked her hair back and forth while choking her on his hardness. When the three men had finished, Bianca offered herself to every man in the room. When Jorge pulled her into the bathroom, Mackie could hear the water flowing from the shower and Bianca kept begging for more. Jorge dragged her back into the room and pushed her down onto the table. He spread her legs and took a straw that he filled with the powder before inserting it into Bianca’s cunt. He blew the powder into her passage and sat down between her legs. He shoved her knees up to her naked breasts and pinched her nipples cruelly while his hands were there, his fingers pulled the hairy lips of her pussy apart and his mouth covered her hole. He sucked and tongued her as her body shook. When he had gotten all of the cocaine laced juice from her cunt that he could, he stood over her and pushed his fingers into her cunt.

He laughed as she squealed and Renaldo took the opportunity to push his hard cock into her mouth as he grabbed her hair then shoved her head down further onto his length, he allowed her to breathe and shoved her head back, time after time, while Jorge worked his entire hand into her abused pussy. The men finally tired of their game and after showering Bianca with their sperm left her lying there on the table playing with her own nipples and singing a nursery rhyme. Before Mackie left the house, she covered Bianca with a sheet and said a clumsy prayer to a God that had no meaning for her.

Mackie wondered still now how she had survived those first two weeks at a rundown no tell motel in Houston, Texas. If she hadn’t met Louisa Vaught, it probably wouldn’t have gone nearly as well. The woman was homeless. She worked as a maid at the hotel, when a room became empty she would clean the room and put clean sheets on the bed. One day when she was leaving the building, Mackie had a brilliant idea. Louisa was older than she was and Mackie had enough money and deeds to seven properties. She invited the woman into her room and after an hour of not so subtle questioning, Louisa had point blank asked Mackie what this was all about. A week later Louisa Vaught and her younger sister, Maxine, moved into a modest home in one of the nicer neighborhoods of Reno, Nevada.

Mackie then thought about the bullet wounds and knife wounds from the many missions she was sent on in the past ten years. Who needs tattoos when her skin was decorated by so many pink scars in varying stages of the color. Being tortured for information about classified documents with a box cutter almost broke her. She knew the long thin scars would be with her for the rest of her life. Her torturers had left her for dead not realizing that none of the slices were deep enough to kill her even if they did bleed like crazy. Mackie hadn’t felt the slices at first until one creative bastard slapped her and poured a bottle of whiskey over the wounds and laughed while she screamed.

The three bullet wound scars were from a drive-by assassination attempt on a United States Senator visiting Iraq. Mackie had the misfortune to be the first agent to step out of a building and the overanxious shooter thought she was the Senator and opened fire before Senator Downs walked out of the door. The Senator was fine, the wounds ended Mackie’s career as a bodyguard for high profile politicians. When she finally healed enough to be discharged from the hospital in Germany and came back to the States, she decided to keep protecting people, just doing it now on a different scale and in a more covert way. This little plot of land had been home for two years now and she loved the place. It had been perfect for her new enterprise since the old nuke bunker was buried deep underground. The little house that she felt so at home in was gone now. And although Mackie knew she had plans to rebuild, she wondered if the site was completely compromised.

Mackie knew that at least two of these guys had seen her naked and wondered why neither man asked about the scars.
They probably were raised with manners and know better than to bring up something so personal, you dingy.
She wouldn’t give them an explanation anyway.

Reynolds’ whoop brought her back to the present and she saw what had aroused his interest. Her fingers quickly flew over the keyboard disarming the detonation devices to prevent the probability of an American soldier’s death. The solders came from the woods and a large helicopter landed in the same area that the Klinger Corporation chopper was sitting yesterday. The sleet was making it harder to see what was happening but they did see both men who had been picking through the wreckage chased down and cuffed by several men in olive drab.

The dead bodies were photographed and slid into body bags stacked side by side next to the helicopter’s wide open cargo doors. Body parts were placed into plastic bins and stacked with the whole bodies. Two large trucks towing trailers pulled into sight and Mackie groaned,” they’re putting ruts in my driveway.” Within three hours the site where her home had been was cleared dirt. The burned out SUV was loaded on the trailers and curtained sides raised to keep curious onlookers from seeing what was on the trailer bed, the blackened pieces of her home were in the back dump box. Twelve bodies plus two large plastic boxes filled with body parts were loaded into the chopper and the prisoners were shackled in the back of the cargo hold. The sleet had stopped so the chopper had no problems lifting and flying off as the trucks and personnel transport left.

Reynolds was talking to the screen as he watched the efficiency of the soldiers. “That’s right, boys, don’t forget to look around the perimeter for all them body parts, you don’t want some hunter finding a piece of leg or a few fingers.” He pointed to the screen like he might be directing the searchers for any leftover evidence. “Those soldiers are just lucky it is so damn cold or the smell of the dead would be making more than a couple of those boys lose their breakfast.”