Destination Dark Ops

by Frank Russel

  'It's about the promise of sucking cock,' said Cindy.

  'If they think we are going to put our lusciious lips on their cock, they'll squeel like a pig.'

  The girls ordered another round, but made sure the two surfer guys sitting next to them paid for it.

  It really was a woman's world.

  Azzi was wearing enough TNT on him that would kill everyone at the Sky Garden, mostly Australian gromets who liked nothing better than to ride the big tits of the East Javanese whores that moonlighted here.

  It was the anniversary of the Bali bombing and Azzi wanted to be a martyr.

  'I'll kill as many whores and white bastards as I can before I"m promised a spot in a harem of virgins.'

  'Poor guy,' said Cindy, who was wearing a tight black lycra body suit. Her boobs stretched the fabric. Her flesh yearned escape and fondling.

  'Sour grapes,' said Novi, who was wearing a pink lycra outfit. Her general tarty get up and mango lip gloss screamed of 'I'M A BIT TITTED WHORE WHO NEEDS TO BE TITTY FUCKED.'

  Which was a good thing, because Azzi wanted one more fuck in the toilet cubicle before he denotated his suicide bomb. He was going to go out with a big bang the moment he came inside the dirty whore. The last words she'd be hearing before being blown into a million tiny pieces would be Allah Akbar.

  Azzi walked up to the bar and introduced himself to the two assassins.

  Then what happened, asked Frank, who was enchanted by Cindy and Nova, as they waited on Jack and Max, hand and foot, while telling their extraordinary tale.

  'We'd have to kill you if we told you,' they both said in a rehearsed chorus.

  Jack put down his fork, he was eating a salad, with a juicy tomato smothered in olive oil and continued in a measured tone.

  'Azzi eventually got his ticket to Australia,' he said, ' and he married a crackhead to get his permanent residency. He's just realized that the grass isn't always sweeter on the other side. He's been accused of wife bashing, had restraining orders and now he's spending time in jail cos his crack head wife accused him of raping her and the coppers believed it. He didn't have a passport to return back to Australia, cos his crack head wife had burnt it and he's now a very miserable prick. But I'm talking with Department of Home Affairs who have issued him with an emergency passport, and the latest is that Azzi will arrive sometime tonight. I offered him a position as a bartender and I may even recruit him.'

  'I think Azzi will serve a good purpose now,' said Max who looked at Cindy and Novi who were wearing skimpy bikini's, 'and as instructed, I'm very grateful you didn't let him die a slow death. He really needed a reality call. I think now he's ready for service and we should find him very loyal.'

  In fact, Azzi never married a crack whore.

  It was augmented reality.

  Soon after Cindy and Novi sucked him off in the cubicle, Azzi was compliant and willingly wanted to join them at the Village of Sweet Smelling Water.

  He had seen his wicked ways. Whether it was the induced nightmare or the double blow job he received from two of Jack's best assassins, it was anyone's guess.

  The Indonesian military had a helicopter waiting for them at the nearby soccer oval.

  Bali's tourism was saved for another day.

  And Azzi was now serving the boys cocktails at The Spicy Clove bar.

  'I'm his fucking partner,' he said as he served us three colorful drinks with little umbrellas in them.

  We all raised our eyebrows.

  'Has he been telling you fibs again,' he asked.

  'Who me, never,' said Jack.

  Azzi just put up his hands in mock defeat.

  'I bet he's been telling big porkies.'

  Novi and Cindy blew us kisses, the gracious hosts that they were.

  What else could they do under the circumstances?

  'A blow job isn't out of the question', mumbled Frank feebly.

  Max and Jack both reflectively slapped him over the head, just as feebly.

  And then Cindy and Novi screamed, in mock terror.

  But I really felt they wanted to blow me off.

  I could even see moist patches forming around their prominent camel toes proudly showing under their almost transparent white bikinis.

  They even shaved.

  Evil laugh.

  Yep, that was me.

  And now I got light slaps from the girls, who were pretty good mind readers too.

  Jack stood up and said ,'Just for the records, they are assassins, and don't be fooled otherwise. Many a man has lost their cock trying to tease my girls.' Novi and Cindy purred like a pussy cat, then let out a mock roar, showing perfect white teeth- they were cock eaters for sure. 'So I suggest you be cautious. It's up to you to sort out reality from fiction and I'm not your fucking mother.'

  With that said, Jack left the table and walked towards the outdoor Jacuzzi near the pool. He then gestured for us to follow.

  What suprises did he have for us?

  'Deserts,' he said.

  This was really looking promising.

  I noticed a bevy of bikini clad natives followed behind Jack, not shy to sway their pefect assets.

  They were taunting us.

  Dear Lord, please don't let me resist.

  The Blue Lagoon was a self-contained universe of g-strings, fake and real boobies and lip gloss.

  I have no idea where Jack and Max went.

  I suspect they wanted me to relax.

  Six months floating around Manila Bay had taken a physical and mental toll on me.

  'So enjoy, this is on us.'

  It was signed by Jack and Max.

  'Thanks Cindy,' I said and binned the note.

  I suspect Max and Jack were partying up at the VIP suite.

  But right now, the jacuzzi had about five hot natives in it.

  And they were beckoning me to join them.

  I'm really not complaining about my time down at Manila Bay.

  I'd be there soon. I did, after all, have an extortion business to run.

  I told Cindy and Novi I had plans of opening up a restaurant where Chris had his massage space.

  'It will have tables, chairs, a kitchen and..'

  Cindy started stroking me. Novi started stroking Cindy.

  'This isn't the time to ruminate over your future,' said Cindy, she was purring and looked sensational in her pink bikini.

  'I agree,' said Novi, who was wearing a skimpy royal blue bikini. She looked sensational too.

  Before I knew it, I was transported to the present, as the other three girls introduced themselves to me.

  Let's see the dynamics between these girls, I thought, as I took a big hit of the Bintang beer that was icy cold. The warm Java sun was coming down hard on me.

  The other three, almost clones of Cindy and Novi in terms of big tits, full lips, and amazing curves and an ass that said, 'Fuck Me', were wearing Satan Red Bikinis and they started massaging my shoulders as they intentionally rubbed their larger than life breasts against me. They weren't fake tits, but I'd have to explore, just to make sure.

  Torrid Love Affairs in Java, now there's a movie title I'd hold onto for a future production.

  The water was really frothing and getting very 'life' juicish.'

  'You mean I need to clean out the jacuzzi cos you spunked all over the place.'

  Something like that Jack.

  Max was also with Jack.

  There seemed an emergency.

  So what would that be, I asked.

  There's a risk that if I keep you here any longer with my assassins, you might lose lots of blood.

  What do you mean, I asked Jack. We were brothers after all and he had to come clean.

  'They are bloodsuckers.'

  What the fuck.

  'First they such your cum, then they suck your blood.'

  That made perfect sense, I said.

  'So what's going down?' I asked.

  'We have an emergency,' said Max who shepherded me and Frank to the helicopter. I
f fucking actors could own their own 747's Jack thought the least he could do was own his own fucking helicopter.

  This sounds like excitement, not a fucking emergency, I said, as I followed the boys and jumped in.

  I was really up for a helicopter ride.

  'This one can travel 500 kilometers without refueling,' said Jack, who jumped in the pilot seat.

  We'd be traversing over the backbone of Java and I had a pretty good idea where we'd land.

  'That's right,' said Max, 'Jogjakarta, we got a cleanup mission but after that, I'll show you the slum whore houses.'

  This was really getting interesting, I said, as Max handed me a Magnum with spare ammunition.

  'And how the fuck am I suppose to use this,' I eventually asked, as Jack reached enough elevation for us to see the village of sweet-smelling water and the gorgeous whores by the pool who were waving at us.

  I didn't see Cindy or Novi, though.

  "They are taking a plane,' said Jack, which he said is just about to take off at his private landing strip.'

  Then Max handed me his smartphone.

  'Watch this,' he said.

  It was a video on some video sharing site that instructed first-time users on how to use a Magnum gun.

  Well fuck a duck, I thought. I was just glad Cindy and Novi were following.

  They had real bazookas that could deflect any bullets.

  I was depending on them to use their most deadly and effective weapons...

  'Their gorgeous tits you mean,' said Jack, who skirted around the rim of Mt. Ijin. Below, in the cauldron, we could see miners collecting sulfur rock.

  'Next volcano is Bromo,' said Max, who was tracking our flight on the onboard screen, 'then it's a hop skip and a jump to Jogjakarta, where I hear the women are the most accommodating in the world.'

  I'd heard similar rumors.

  'Fuck the mission, ' I said, 'lets head straight to the cat house.'

  'Now that you mentioned it,' said his brother, 'that's where the mission is.'

  I looked below me out of the helicopter.

  Jack had his favorite flying music on.

  The Ride of the Valkyries.

  He was in some kinda seventies movies, strafing the desert landscape below him with imaginary rounds.

  The subwoofer didn't half-pound out the determined Wagner score.

  'Subwoofers are intended to augment the low-frequency range of loudspeakers covering higher frequency bands.'

  Thanks, Max, I always wondered about that.

  'And yes Jack,' I said, turning to my crazy conjoined twin, ' I know you are a big fan of Apocalypse Now.'

  'What kinda nod was that,' he said, 'about as subtle as a sledgehammer.'

  A white guy in a red jacket and a Balinese with wild unruly dyed black hair were climbing up the steps to the observation post of Mt. Bromo.

  A gush of sulfur, now a cloud and enveloping the two loan trekkers who were at the rim of the cauldron.

  'Fuck,' said Vanya Vetto, 'if we don't get some fresh air soon, we are fucking toast.'

  'No worries boss,' said the Mad Hindu, 'I can see a helicopter.'

  'Right on time,' said Vanya Vetto, the intrepid turgid traveler, who looked at his watch.

  Dust swirled all over the place.

  If ever there was a desecration of a tourist site, this was one of those times.

  'Not necessarily,' said Max, who reminded me of our recent romp in the cemetery.

  'Get in,' yelled Jack, as Vanya Vetto and the Mad Hindu, who went by his Hindu name, Made Sana, jumped in the copter.

  I thumped Vanya hard on the back.

  'Good to see you again,' I said, as I changed the tunes to a good Taylor Swift number, Take it Off.

  'It's what I always say to the whores,' said Vanya, always the mysterious character with one-liners. If ever there was a living Errol Flynn character, it had to be him.

  'I fucking hate mustaches,' he said, 'now what is this mission about? It better be fucking good. I don't take kindly to be being interrupted on my volcano hunting trips.'

  'It had fucking stairs,' said Max, who seemed to know Vanya very well, ' we have a few wannabe terrorists to sort out. They are planning to bomb up a few nightclubs in Bali.'

  But someone's got to walk up those fucking gently rising steps to the summit, thought Vanya, who got straight into character.

  'What's fucking new,' said Vanya, as the helicopter climbed over a few more active volcanos. It was an enchanting island inhabited by crazy mystics hell bent on destroying the living world and big titted natives very keen on restoring it.

  I know the narrative was getting crowded.

  I'm just not sure I can keep up with the dialogue.

  Everyone wanted to get a word in.

  But sitting at a table surrounded by willing whores, was Stan and Kumar.

  So they had been radicalized.

  These little karaoke precincts double up as whore houses.

  Buy the Bintangs, tip the whores and sing a few songs before doing the dirty deed in one of the grimy back rooms that even a fan can't cool down.

  'What you see is what you get,' said Vanya. He was no stranger to the seedy side of life. In fact, he seemed to thrive on it.

  'And as to you,' he continued, taking a seat next to Stan and Kumar, 'number one rule in terrorism, don't visit cat houses.'

  'Why,' asked Stan, who seemed offended. Kumar gave a clueless look. The table had about ten empty bottles of Bintang on it and it was obvious the working girls were aiming for a big booze bill before taking the two limp dicks out the back to fleece them some more.

  The dialogue isn't getting crowded, said Jack, who was wearing aviator glasses,' it's just beginning.'

  Cindy and Novi returned to the table.

  They didn't bother with any stopovers and always the professional, they were dressed to kill.

  Cindy was wearing Mango lip gloss, and I noticed Novi was wearing strawberry after they both planted juicy kisses on each side of my cheeks.

  'Meet Cindy,' said Kumar. He had been tipping her heavy just to get a feel of her heavenly warmth. She confirmed everything about life to him and he only wanted to die in her embrace before he died a martyr's death.

  How the fuck did he get himself into these situations, he thought, as he ordered another round of Bintang. Max joined the table and now it was a real jolly affair.

  'They said if we didn't sign up to their cause, they kill our families,' said Kumar. Cindy had just planted a full front kiss on him and the truth serum was working quicker than she thought it would. And Stan had become a bumbling idiot too after Novi had done the same.

  'Good work girls,' said Max.

  He fumbled in his pocket and sent an encrypted code to his boss.

  'Not liquidated,' he wrote, 'may recruit them for the cause of greater world peace and prosperity.'

  'Yes,' said Stan, to Max, who suggested he wire over all his money in his bank account over to Frank Russel's account.

  'It's the least you can do after screwing him over at Manila Bay,' he said.

  He said the same thing to Kumar, and within minutes, Frank was one million dollars richer.

  'Thanks, Max,' said Frank, 'I'll be pumping some of the proceeds into Manila Bay and the rest into HQ at Sweet Smelling Water.'

  This was going much better than expected, thought Vanya.

  Cindy and Novi honed in on him.

  'He's an interesting type,' said Cindy to Novi.

  'He knows our ways,' added Novi.

  'A killer in bed,' said Vanya, he was in witty mode, 'and a killer out of bed, that ticks all my boxes.'

  Then a bevy of high-class whores, many of them who had visited the cosmetic clinics of Bangkok, came out from the back and started singing Happy Birthday. They were carrying a cake.

  This had to be the most embarrassing moment of Vanya's life.

  But he'd run with it. He'd even hand out Viagra tablets and tell everyone to enjoy.

  He was kind and me
rciful in that way.

  'Sharing is caring boys,' he said to his motley crew. as he handed out Kamagra jelly, 'works much faster than the tablets.'

  He then ordered another round of Bingtang, the mamasan would be creaming her pants by now and said, 'let the party begin.'

  Then The Ride of The Valkyries started up on the P.A system, loud and clear.

  Everyone was expecting William "Bill" Kilgore to enter wearing his calvary hat and saying something like, 'I love the smell of pussy juice in the morning.'

  Jack didn't need any prodding. No one did, actually.

  It was a wonderful week off.

  But Frank had to get back to Manila Bay.

  Two flights later on Air Asia, he was now floating around Manila Bay.

  It's really not that. You put on your swimwear and just float on your back.

  There's nothing mystifying about it.

  If you don't piss anyone off, you don't float down at Manila Bay.

  'It's more a gentle swim.'

  Frank had floated around the Port of Acco Polco.

  The water was filthy and busy with cruise ships and speedboats. Frank would look on shore at the glittering lights and get wrapped up in the warm night.

  'Newsflash,' said Chris.

  'Sorry, I was just reminiscing.'

  The two-story cafe was nearly finished.

  Chri's wife and her daughter would have comfort now, and a business and a place to sleep.

  'The solar comes on today,' said Frank, 'then we open for business tonight.'

  It was amazing what you could achieve in one week if you flashed hard cash around.

  Chris was a loyal friend and if anyone deserved a break, it was him and his wife and six-year-old daughter.

  'It's even typhoon-proof,' said Frank, who looked the two-story building, ' it won't flood either, it's a self-sealing building.'

  It was Manila Bay's showpiece. Even the politicians applauded Frank for his philanthropy and beautification of the waterfront.

  Frank had vouched to build another ten of these buildings and the Philippine Tourist Board had made him an honorary member on their board.

  Frank the Floater, was becoming very buoyant.

  'Sink or swim is my motto.'

  Six months down at Manila Bay with the flotsam and jetsam of Manila's poor had taught him one thing, go eye to eye with adversity. The first one to blink loses and the winner takes all. Time, he had lots of it on his hand and patience.