Alex Griffin
01-23-2013, 12:14 PM
Her head was hooded, and only her eyes could be seen. She was wrapped in red silk that flowed off her strong body like smoke. Her powerful, shapely legs were exposed, along with her flat belly. The outfit also accented her small waistline, which brought the eyes to appreciate the slight sway of her hips.
Her hands were shackled in chains as she was escorted to the general command house. The sight of this caused the men to go into frenzy. As she scanned the area, she locked eyes with one of the soldiers who were cheering and taunting. Her cold gaze penetrated through his bravado and saw only a child masquerading as a man. His smile shattered like a broken mirror. He couldn't hold her glare and looked away self-consciously. Very few could truly look into those eyes, given to her by her mother. They were unforgiving and predatory.
As they led her into the headquarters, the general looked up from his desk and smiled. He was a sloppy, sweaty pig. He shooed the other men away and told them to go off to training.
In five more minutes all hell would break loose. The men would get what was coming their way. She saw the mounted relic African sword on the wall, another 'gift' from Salahudin. Muhallahd had no idea that soon this sword would end his life. Nothing had changed in the room since the last video feed they received. It's amazing what a small camera hidden in a ceiling fan can pick up. She knew right about now the others were in their positions. Each one of them was trained in various arts of deception and counter-surveillance. There were only four people Asukari trusted with her life. She knew Bhekizitha was watching her as she walked through the compound, and she knew that after the last man left the headquarters he would start raining death from afar. In the confusion, she would butcher this pig on his desk and be long gone before the ringing in their ears had stopped. She could almost see the smile that would break out on Mwepesi's face as she started the armor-plated extrication bike they had built from a Dodge Tomahawk.
Muhallahd was coming closer now, his arms reaching out to touch her. He slowly unlocked her shackles and touched her hands like they were lovers reunited. He was looking at her body and she could see the ravenous intent in his body language. His eyes lingered upon the swell of her breasts. However, he hesitated as he looked into her eyes. She wasn't what he expected. He didn't see a scared or drugged-up girl. He looked into the eyes of a woman of purpose. He saw her hatred, which made him pause, instinctively reaching for his side arm as the iron rain fell from the sky and the camp erupted. Muhallahd's eyes widened as his outstretched hand was cut clean off at the wrist. Before he could scream his throat was opened up into a gaping, ragged smile which spewed blood and gore. As he reached to stop the warm crimson fluid, he looked at his killer and saw indifference etched on her face. The last thing he heard as he laid in his own blood was, "Your time is over pig, and your friend is next. All of your 'army' will be following you soon."
As she sprinted out of the hut, she surveyed the devastation. Thirteen men lay dead, and six Jeeps in twisted ruins. She met Mwepesi, who had her mask, at the rear gate. She slipped it down and, in a whirlwind of dust, they were gone. Six minutes had gone by since she'd been led through Muhallahd's door.
Later, the tally would be twenty men dead and twelve vehicles ruined. The hornet's nest had been struck.
Her hands were shackled in chains as she was escorted to the general command house. The sight of this caused the men to go into frenzy. As she scanned the area, she locked eyes with one of the soldiers who were cheering and taunting. Her cold gaze penetrated through his bravado and saw only a child masquerading as a man. His smile shattered like a broken mirror. He couldn't hold her glare and looked away self-consciously. Very few could truly look into those eyes, given to her by her mother. They were unforgiving and predatory.
As they led her into the headquarters, the general looked up from his desk and smiled. He was a sloppy, sweaty pig. He shooed the other men away and told them to go off to training.
In five more minutes all hell would break loose. The men would get what was coming their way. She saw the mounted relic African sword on the wall, another 'gift' from Salahudin. Muhallahd had no idea that soon this sword would end his life. Nothing had changed in the room since the last video feed they received. It's amazing what a small camera hidden in a ceiling fan can pick up. She knew right about now the others were in their positions. Each one of them was trained in various arts of deception and counter-surveillance. There were only four people Asukari trusted with her life. She knew Bhekizitha was watching her as she walked through the compound, and she knew that after the last man left the headquarters he would start raining death from afar. In the confusion, she would butcher this pig on his desk and be long gone before the ringing in their ears had stopped. She could almost see the smile that would break out on Mwepesi's face as she started the armor-plated extrication bike they had built from a Dodge Tomahawk.
Muhallahd was coming closer now, his arms reaching out to touch her. He slowly unlocked her shackles and touched her hands like they were lovers reunited. He was looking at her body and she could see the ravenous intent in his body language. His eyes lingered upon the swell of her breasts. However, he hesitated as he looked into her eyes. She wasn't what he expected. He didn't see a scared or drugged-up girl. He looked into the eyes of a woman of purpose. He saw her hatred, which made him pause, instinctively reaching for his side arm as the iron rain fell from the sky and the camp erupted. Muhallahd's eyes widened as his outstretched hand was cut clean off at the wrist. Before he could scream his throat was opened up into a gaping, ragged smile which spewed blood and gore. As he reached to stop the warm crimson fluid, he looked at his killer and saw indifference etched on her face. The last thing he heard as he laid in his own blood was, "Your time is over pig, and your friend is next. All of your 'army' will be following you soon."
As she sprinted out of the hut, she surveyed the devastation. Thirteen men lay dead, and six Jeeps in twisted ruins. She met Mwepesi, who had her mask, at the rear gate. She slipped it down and, in a whirlwind of dust, they were gone. Six minutes had gone by since she'd been led through Muhallahd's door.
Later, the tally would be twenty men dead and twelve vehicles ruined. The hornet's nest had been struck.