by Frank Russel
I got a slap over the head for that on from Tia who heaved out her boobs that in profile, looked pretty tidy, even under her winter gear.
'We were programmed by a Manga technician, our proportions are Hentai,' said Miyuki, who was trying to reassure us that they'd be able to penetrate the top echelons of North Korea.
'And we look great in a maid's outfit, dowdy the better because once they discover what is underneath, they are under our spell.'
That was to be seen, I said to Tia, but I couldn't wait for that moment.
Linjiang.
We were there.
This was the gateway to North Korea.
'Keep away from South Korea,' said Max, who was holding hands with Tia and Miyuki, both of them were wearing 1970's Elton John pink plastic glasses.
'And you are spared a quick course in South Korean propaganda,' I said.
I had suspected the divide between the north and south was a charade.
'It is,' said Tia,' it's all about getting funding, the South Koreans get funding from the US and then that funding is channeled to North Korea.'
Asian grafting at it's best, I said.
Linjiang is like any little border town, a smuggling hot spot.
A nicotine stained Chinese taxi driver had an update.
He said he smoked the same brand of cigarettes the Father of Modern China did, and that The Rocket Man was at a nearby lake.
This was getting interesting.
'It's called Heaven Lake,' said the driver, who said his name was Mao.
'It's more common than you'd think,' he said, adding that the place we were going to had no recent satellite updates.
He was now reading my mind.
'When China tell Google no updates, Google doesn't update,' he picked his nose to emphasize the following point, 'so you can imagine it is a very private resort.'
This could only mean one thing, I said to the team, 'the Trump and The Rocket Man summit.
'China playing broker.'
Just as I figured I said to our friendly taxi driver and handed him a couple of crisp US$100 notes, you could still smell the ink, they were that fresh off our press.
And before we knew it, Mao was gunning it through the streets of the border town and heading east towards a mountain range.
'Heaven Lake,' said a sign.
'Did it speak to you,' asked Max.
He was still holding hands with Tia and Miyuki, who were now applying makeup and preparing themselves for what they did best.
'The art of Seduction,' said Tia,
''You got that, Mr. Russel?' asked Miyuki.
Yes, I said.
As I said earlier, I just couldn't wait to see what these two pretty assassins could bring to the mix.
'The art of seduction, not death,' said Miyuki, who slapped me on the head for my assumptions.
Mao was taking it all in.
He could very well be a spy for the Chinese government. And if he was, I'd say he was asked to take us to the secret location with the blessings from Mao.
'His spirit resides at Heaven Lake,' said Mao, who was reading my thoughts.
'And he loved his frolicking parties,' he added, still driving like a maniac now through a windy mountain pass,' very private too. He loved those Korean women more than Chinese.'
Why I asked.
'They have big tits and know how to massage a man with them.'
Fair enough, too. I just couldn't wait to try it out myself.
'We are here.'
The lake straddled the North Korean and China border. Smack bang in the middle was anchored a cruise ship.
Piece by piece it was brought over the mountains.
The lake was the size of an inland sea.
Crystal clear water.
A blue sky.
No pollution what so ever.
Surrounded by pine trees and sandy beaches on the shoreline, this was a postcard-perfect place of quietude and serenity.
But the blasting techno music coming from the cruise ship suggested otherwise.
Mao radioed to his superior and a helicopter made it's way from the cruise ship.
Both Tia and Miyuki had dressed up in their catsuits and applied their tangerine lip gloss.
Max was up for it. So was I.
'We'll make you rich,' said Donald.
He was talking to the Rocket Man.
The girls were lavished with attention.
The place was full of hot Asians and rich Asian businessman.
The Rocket Man responded to Donald, 'can we have a Trump Tower in my home town?'
'That and so much more, we are even asking Apple to move their production from China to North Korea. As I said to you, you'll be the New Emerging Dragon. We'll even commission you to make a few of those rockets you are famed for in the Western Press. But I want you to launch satellites, our military satellites.'
To cement the deal, Trump shook hands with the Rocket Man, photos were taken- a mighty plan was hatched.
'And we'll leave those South Korean cocksuckers behind,' added Trump. 'They have deceived us for too long.'
Champagne bottles were popped and celebrations began in earnest.
'What, Earnest, now where the fuck is he?' asked Donald.
'I'm here sir,' said a North Korean wearing a tuxedo suit. He was the head waiter.
This is how business is done in Asia. Now the show began, and didn't those girls froth up the dancefloor?
Strictly no cameras. Privacy was foremost in securing the deal at the summit. What transpired can only be left to the imagination.
'You mean the Rocket Man broke his virginity?' asked Max.
'More like he had a milk shower,' said the two Japanese milkmaids.
A quick call to Jack in East Java.
'It's a wrap.'
'Good work boys,' said Jack, 'now don't be shy and bring down those new recruits to the Village of Sweet Smelling Water.'
It was a helicopter ride to Hong Kong, and then a flight to East Java.
'And we are at your service,' I said to Jack, five hours later, when we eventually arrived in balmy Java, surrounded by active volcanoes with whiffs of sulfur on the wind.
'Nah, that was just me farting,' said Max, who seemed happy to be back in the magical land, the birthplace of decadence and intrigue fueled by tropical madness.
'We've had some missions, haven't we.'
'Boy we have, Frank.'
The sun was setting.
We were tired.
An unlikely band of misfits saving the world.
That was something to ponder on.
We got the babes, we worked them hard and kept the streets safe.
'No one is safe from you,' said Jack.
If you mean big tits aren't safe from horndogs, then we were all guilty of dat.
'Where the fuck is Vienna?' asked Frank who said before was a false dawn and he needed me in Austria.
'Google Map, for Pete's sake, and while you are at it, book a ticket for your sidekick Max.'
That meant that Jack was going to ravish the new recruits while we were busting our nuts saving the so-called civilized world.
'The more developed we become,' said Max, who I could tell was going to try his hand at being philosophical, 'then the more devious means they come up with to destroy us.'
'Yes,' said Jack, 'Bin Sharden is snooping around and we think he's about to bomb the Louvre.'
'Isn't that in France,' said Max. He knew more about Europe than me.
'Isn't the USA just next to France?'
I got a slap on the head for that one from my conjoined twin brother who wished us the best of luck in tracking down Bin Sharden and maybe having a Hookah session or two with him.
'Cut the verbal judo shit,' said Jack who denied ever saying that, 'we need him to disappear.'
This was getting heavy. I was having flashbacks of my own.
The Grand Hotel Wien on the CIA's account seemed a good place to rest and generate a plan.
&
nbsp; It was a plush place.
A little over the top.
But I wasn't paying for it.
So I intended to enjoy it.
Max got the room next to mine.
Edward, Victoria, fuck it could have been decorated in the Frank period for all I knew.
I'd trash the place, that's all I knew.
'You only trash the place if you have an orgy,' said Jack, who was happy we had found a base.
I told him that from my bay windows, with satin curtains, I could see a festival below.
'That's fucking Mardi Gra,' said Jack.
It looked more like some coquettish European ritual of covering your face with a mask, any excuse to act the maggot and let all inhibitions down as you groped your way through the horny crowd intent of fucking as many strangers as they can during the Bachanalianesque festival.
Outside the hotel on Karntner Ring Road, lined with deciduous trees, bare and lit up with fairy lights, the masked party on the street made it's way west towards Schwarzenbergrplaz then made it ways due north towards Statue Raphael Donner at the intersection of Lothringerstrage.
'You've been using Google Maps,' said Max.
Before I could answer a guy in a pig outfit, four legs and wearing a pig mask, stood out like a sore thumb in the crowd. Underneath, I'm sure he had a bomb. He was looking at detonating it.
Then Habib and Hezbollah, straight out of an ISIS propaganda video started yelling Allah Akbar and were about to thrash around their knives, that glittered sincerely under the fairy lights.
Here we go, I thought as I wrestled Bin Sharden to the ground.
Then I heard two shots.
Max took care of the cavalry with his Glock.
'Nice shooting, partner,' I said, as I demolished the Saudi Arabian with a neck embrace. Before he could reach for his detonation button, he was out, unconscious.
'Go on, finish him,' said Max, who had little tolerance for troublemakers.
When we pulled the mask off his face, staring at us like a stunned mullet, was Stan.
Kumar couldn't be too far away.
'He's here,' said Max, who pulled off the turban wrapped around the face of one of the two dead jihadists.
'He looks more like Horace than Habib,' laughed Max, who suggested we hit a bar and gloat over another successful mission.
'Why didn't you kill me,' asked Stan.
'Didn't want to waste another bullet,' said Max.
'Just as well,' replied Stan, 'because I'm your boss.'
'Are you saying you are CIA?' asked Frank.
'Let's just say I move on the bottom of the ocean.' Stan took another bite of his hotdog, from a stand on the corner of a very expansive looking building. 'And you'd be surprised how many shiny things you find on the ocean floor.'
'So you are saying you are lobster.'
'I never said that Max, but if you want to call me a bottom feeder, I can assure that I am.'
There was no time to waste, said Stan.
'Jack tells me you are wanted in Mexico City.'
Me and Max got shit faced at the bar of the double-decker Boing 747 of Air Big Tit's Inc.
'Isn't that overkill?'
'No worse than Virgin,' I said, adding, 'I'm told we won't be needing pillows on this long haul flight.'
Ok, it was Delta.
They were flying direct from Vienna to Mexico City and the air hostesses were employed because of their physical attributes.
'We have personality too, I hope,' said the lady behind the bar, she had to be from Eastern Russia with those Mongolian features from that part of the world.
'I thought the features you were referring to were my big knockers and almond-shaped eyes.'
Yes, that too Rebecca.
The ten-hour flight just went like that. Tequila, lime, salt, followed by Corona, we were having a jolly good time.
They say time is suspended on long haul flights.
'No, it's actioned packed with socializing,' said Rebecca, who kept on flashing one of her large boobs.
She was playing hard to get.
'I find that eye candy is a wonderful way to delay and if not defeat the effects of jetlag,' she eventually said after refilling our drinks.
Max blurted out, 'you are hired, we'll be at the Grand Hyatt, room 101, see us there and we'll discuss how you can make some cash on the side.'
Stuff it, I said.
'What about Rebecca?'
Tell her to meet us in Bogota.
Sitting at a Star Bucks, drinking a Latte, I was telling Max that when America wants Panama, they get it.
'Colombia just didn't have the cash to pay off its traditional owners.'
As I took a sip of my coffee and snorted a line of cocaine, I said it always pays to have some money left over.
The froggies tried to build the Panama.
'It took American know how,' said Max.
So you watched that Youtube video too?
Then she walked up to the next table and plonked her sexy ass down on the chair.
She was Asian.
'No, she's Colombian.'
Well they look Asian to me.
'They are hybrids, they run off petrol and electricity.'
That's right Max. But we both agree that we both saw her on Chaturbate.
'Yes, she's Amazonia Princess.'
Amazonia Princess. She could fiddle with her tight twat all night long.
Rebecca turned up, just like that.
We were both surprised.
She was wearing orange lip gloss with a sprinkling of angel dust.
'One kiss from me, and you'll be down for the count.'
I wouldn't mind being knocked out by her.
'And that woman who just sat down at the table next to me is my twin sister.'
Just as I thought.
'And we have been penetrating the drug cartels for years.'
'More like they have been penetrating you,' said Max.
She wasn't impressed with his male chauvinism and expressed it with a kick between his groins.
'And my stilettos are steal capped.'
She was a live wire.
'So what do you have planned,' she asked as she gestured for her sister to join us at the table.
Star Fucks, I muttered to Max.
He was still seeing stars.
'And I bet he's enjoyed every moment of the groin shot,' said Rebecca's sister who said she was Mary.
I said a few hail marys in the hope that I could sack the twins.
I was seeing stars too.
Mary could read my thoughts a mile away and she did me good with her pink stilettos.
Gone were the day of passive Asians stroking our egos. Here we were dealing with tough bitches who knew what they wanted and how they got it.
'1000 dollars a day is my rate,' said Rebecca, who was now tenderly stroking my greyish hair.
'We have a soft side to us,' said Mary, who started massaging my groin.
'It will get hard again,' said Rebecca,' but for now you'll have to grin and bear it.'
Max loved their form and pulled out cash from his bum bag and paid up his new recruits in hard cash.
They were ours now.
'Only for the next 24 hours,' said Rebecca.
I suppose a round in the sack wasn't out of the question?
I was out for the count, and five minutes later I was nursing a black eye.
As I said, they were live wires, these Colombian chickadees.
Oh bugger it, said Max. 'Let's hire a helicopter and explore.'
The girls were up for it.
We really had no mission to think of. They had the bad guys in check and we both knew we were out of our league here.
These were the people that were scampering to the US.
Donald was building a wall to keep them out and we all knew they were good at digging holes too.
The helicopter was on loan from the CIA.
Palenque, I said to the girls, 'we are going to tromp on a
pyramid and watch the summer solstice.'
I had heard that the shadow dragon did it's dance down the steps of the 12th-century pyramid, that in my opinion was the best of the best that Central and South America had to offer. Only a few hours from San Cristobal de La Casa in the Chiapas region, it wasn't very far from Tikal, another Mayan pyramid, in Guatemala.
'Have helicopter will travel,' I said to the girls, who seemed all tame and giggly.
Apparently they loved traveling too.
'Oh boy, didn't those two Amazonia Queens go off?'
It was more a statement than a question to Max.
We were long gone from Pyramid Land.
Saigon was lulling us with another beat.
Hectic, frantic, oriental, hell, even a hot inferno.
'That Laura Croft garb never did Angelina Jolly,' said Max.
We were at a boutique bakery drinking Vietnamese percolated coffee enjoying the Asian Catwalk comings and going, most of them for hire at a short time hotel, I might add.
'I'm available too, 'said the sexy waitress, who served us another coffee.
'We'll negotiate that after I finish the story,' I told her.
Apparently, waitress salaries weren't enough to maintain a babe of her caliber who needed wining, dining and a good fucking to boot.
'They had a blow-up slide, that spanned 20 meters, the length of the steps of the pyramid which was made slippery with baby oil and water from a hose.'
I knew what Max was thinking, oiled up Milfs blowing off old fogies, instead he said:
'A water slide, basically, wasn't it Frank?'
Their target was mostly the Grey Nomads of the United States, couples who wanted something a bit more than a walk through a shopping mall.
'They were offering titty rides,' said Max,' for $1000 a ride, and boy didn't those old men pull out their phones faster than you could say Jack Robinson, and deposited their ticket price in real time.'
I can only see an image.
It's a grotesque one.
The solstice came and went and these old fogies, middle age spread having got the worst of most of them, were in a 69 position, licking for their dear lives as the Amazonian twins blew them off down the length of the slide.'
'They made a killing that day,' said Max.
And a few of the old farts never made it down alive from the slide.
'Yes, I was watching the girls distributing Kamagra jell an hour before their allotted rides.'