Dragonflies The Duncan Peters Files

by Fontien, Samantha

  Dragonflies.

  The Duncan Peters

  Files..

  By

  Samantha Fontien

  Dragonflies.

  The Duncan Peters

  Files..

  By

  Samantha Fontien

  Copyright © 2014

  Samantha Fontien All rights reserved worldwide.

  First published 2014

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without prior written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other non-commercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  For permission requests, write to the author, addressed

  “Request: Copyright Approval” @

  https://www.facebook.com/pages/Author-Samantha-Fontien/334598369990293

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. It is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.This is not a public domain work and I hold the necessary publishing rights.

  To my husband, my best friend the love of my life; Mr. F, Thank you for believing in me and giving me the courage and time to chase my dream. I would still live in a cardboard box in a rainy city with you.

  Love you Always & Forever

  To my Babies: I hope you are as proud of me as I am of you both. Love you so much.

  To MY GIRLS, my inspiration, my soul mates in female form. Thanks for believing in me. Love you all so much Beverley Hollowed, Mrs. G, Jessica Spoon, Leia Madison, My Sorrella & Tanya Ross (Buddies of buddies) and Sally O. What would I do without you? You are all my partners in crime, and you know what I’m talking about. Xx

  To my amazingly and fantastic Beta Readers; Jade Zivanovic, Laura Smith, Nicola Higgins, Sally Orchard, Sally Ramsdale, Simone Baker and Tanya Ross, Thank you for reading my book and for ALL of your help. I couldn’t have asked for a better team to work with: A huge thank you from the bottom of my heart. Xx

  Thanks to Jessica Spoon for supplying me the most amazing music to invigorate my writing, so you can thank her for my emotions and yours.

  A HUGE thank you to Jessica Swigart and to Leia Madison for my ‘Love at first sight’ cover-design. A big thank you to Sally, from ‘Under the Lilac’ for editing and to Sally Ramsdale for proofing. To Beverley Hollowed, thank you & mwah, you know what you did Mrs.

  And a special thank you to ‘Snowdrop’ for all the Military Intel.

  I dedicate the writings of chapter’s 19 & 20 to my daddy, it’s 10 years, and I still miss you every day. Loves you dearly. Xx

  Samantha Xx

  Duncan Peters originally appears in How to catch Butterflies Books 1 & 2 available now on Amazon eBook & Paperback.

  This book contains explicit sex scenes and is recommended for readers 18+

  *Please note that there is a glossary at the end of the book to help with the more London specifics terms*

  After the Glossary, I have a wee surprise for you...

  I have the pleasure, to share with you, theSynopsis and the first, two chapters of Leia Madison’s amazing book ‘Autums Lost’ as a taster. So please treat yourself to having a good read, and the rollercoaster of emotions, it will, no doubt give you.

  1..

  Gimme Shelter..

  2

  Sympathy for the devil

  3..

  Connected.

  4

  Suck my Kiss.

  5..

  6.

  Bohemian Like you..

  7..

  Bring me To life..

  8

  Amoureuse.

  9..

  The Reason..

  10.

  The air That I breathe..

  11..

  Vicious..

  12.

  Dear Darlin..

  13..

  Pass Out..

  14.

  All of My heart..

  15..

  Not Fade away..

  16.

  Gasoline Ally..

  17..

  Shoplifters Of the world..

  18.

  Back Door Man..

  19.

  Mama..

  20.

  Glory & Gore..

  21..

  Nothing Left to Say…

  22.

  Still Sane..

  23..

  The story Of my Life..

  24.

  Somewhere Only we know..

  Word Glossary

  1..

  Gimme Shelter..

  It was three Days before Christmas. The air was acrid with the smell of burning oil. Well that’s what Duncan told himself, knowing the bodies in the next village were still smouldering from the attack of the rebel forces the day before. Orders were orders and he knew he couldn’t send in his team until clearance was given. It was the largest SAS mobilisation since the Second World War. To him, to be part of this was something he was very proud of. The initial plans were for the SAS to carry out their traditional raiding roles. They were behind Iraqi lines. They had been activated ahead of the allied invasion, disrupting lines of communications. They were only a few miles from Al Jahra, where they had been stationed since January 1991.

  Duncan’s squadron had been working behind Iraqi lines hunting for Scud missile launchers in the area, south of the Amman, Baghdad highway. His patrol had been working on foot and with various armoured vehicles. They had carried out more than their fair share of attacks, with Milan anti-tank missiles on Scud launchers and also setting up ambushes for Iraqi convoys. Duncan’s teams’ mission was to locate the launchers and monitor the main supply routes.

  He was now sat in the command tent, the various machines making their relevant noises was the only thing that broke the silence, although the atmosphere inside the tent was quite relaxed considering the airstrikes that had been made earlier that day.

  It was December 1991; the air in Kuwait was dense with the heat that bounced off the sandy, rocky territory. He had only just returned back to the shade of the tent from the searing heat. He had made a habit of surveying the area at certain times. Although he hated the post here for many reasons and not just because of the stifling heat, or the constant chaffing due to the sand getting into every nook and cranny. When he was first posted here, it was the sun setting that he admired the most. It was the colours of the sand at certain times of day, almost white and blending into a deep red as the sun set. It could be quite a spectacular sight. Now, now it was old hat, and he couldn’t wait for January, when his tour would end.

  It was a far cry from his home in London. He thought back to his wife Juliette. No doubt she would be spending the time readying the house for her parent’s arrival for Christmas. It was at times like this he missed being at home. They always made a ritual of finding the perfect Christmas tree, which Juliette would decorate with love and affection. He would make the perfect fire using the right amount of wood logs and coal. They would sit together cuddled up in front of it. He would rest his legs on the coffee table. Juliette, no doubt, telling him off for doing
so. Even though he knew it was snowing, he would rather be there, than out in this unbearable heat.

  He was surprised when he opened what he thought to be orders, to find he had won the highly coveted home pass. He would be home in time for Christmas. Until this, they had spent every Christmas together for the last eight years. Five of those married.

  They had met while he was finishing studying at Cambridge University. He had been instantly attracted to the gorgeous brunette, who had dropped the contents of her shoulder bag, after both he and Rubin had crashed into her, after stumbling out of one of the local pubs. He had felt that thunderbolts and lightening moment as soon as he bent down to help her retrieve her items from the ground. That and they had banged their heads as they bent down. Plus she had caught him having a sneaky peek down her V-neck t-shirt, at her ample breasts encased in her lacy bra. She smiled a devilish grin at him. She instantly had him hooked. It took him a week to bed her. From that night until he had signed up. They hadn’t spent a night apart.

  Their wedding was a lovely event, held in her county parish church. They were married the following June in 1986, with a guard of honour waiting for them as they came out of the church.

  Life with Juliette was good. They had decided to wait to have children. He was very game. He wanted the picture postcard image of the perfect family. He felt envious of his men pulling out pictures of their wives and children. He wanted that bond he saw appearing over their hardened faces. His squad were known as the hardest, toughest bastards that ever were. However, a mere picture of their new-born or their woman at home would soften these men. It gave them a reason to do what they did, and he wanted that reason with his lovely wife. Juliette, however, was a career girl, and decided it would be better for them to wait. At twenty-six, she was still young, and there would be plenty of time for babies. He had been happy enough with that, except in the last year. The love he felt for Juliette, and being posted away from her, made him realise that he wanted children with this perfect woman. Unfortunately she had always dismissed his talks of starting a family. Maybe this Christmas she would change her mind.

  She had tried to dissuade him about joining the Special Forces. She had no choice with the R.A.F. Both he and Rubin had signed up, and had only that day received their letters of acceptance, hence the drunken celebration that had resulted in his and Juliette’s meeting.

  It was his and Rubin’s goal. They were to be the ‘best of the best’ at whatever they did. He had been lucky with his posts and assignments until now....

  Duncan went to sleep in his cot that night, with thoughts and dreams of his Juliette. Tomorrow, he would be on a flight home in one of the transport carriers. That morning when he packed up his kit, he deliberated on whether he should call her. He decided on making it a surprise seeing he would be unable to tell her what time he would be home...

  The flight home was long and arduous. He had jumped a few planes before landing in RAF Northolt.

  As he walked out of the main gates, past the M.P.’s he saw a chap dressed in a tuxedo looking very dapper, proudly leaning on the bonnet of his jet black and silver trimmed, MG. It was his long-time friend Rubin Miller. He met Rubin on the first day of fresher week in Cambridge. They had each been drinking with friends. They had both made a play for the barmaid. Resulting in them upping their game and trying to ‘out do’ each other, much to the barmaids amusement. That night he and the Scots man become friends. By the end of the week they were best friends, thus resulting in, Rubin moving into his bedsit, and onto their 'investment purchase' of a sofa bed. Duncan soon got used to his Glaswegian accent, which had mellowed out and become more British over the years. Duncan took pride in crediting himself for it and their constant companionship. They had both graduated with degrees in Languages, foreign law and computer science, which was all very new in 1985. Both chaps had the foresight to choose their courses well for their chosen careers.

  Rubin and he trained together at the R.A.F College Cranwell, in Lincolnshire. They completed their thirty-six week officer training together, resulting in them both signing up for nine years’ service and three years reserve. Like himself, Rubin looked every inch a fellow officer. This was the first time either man had toured without each other. They always had each other’s backs no matter what.

  “So you won the raffle then buddy?”

  Rubin asked, a twinkle in his eye, while still puffing on the cigarette that was pursed between his lips as he threw the packet of Marlborough’s over to Duncan who caught them with ease. Duncan took his kit bag off his shoulder, placing it down onto the ground before he hit the bottom of the soft pack and a single cigarette was dispensed. It was placed in his mouth with Duncan reaching into his pocket for his Zippo lighter. He clicked his fingers against the wheel; it instantly lit, producing a steady flame which he brought to the end as he sucked on the filter. He took a drag, watching the end glow an orangey red and he flicked his hand, causing the lid of the Zippo lighter to snap shut, extinguishing the flame, before placing said lighter back into his pocket.

  “Looks like it, Rubin,” he laughed “So, I see you’re not on your own?”

  Duncan looked into the sports car. You couldn’t miss the trashy blond who was sat in the small and very poor excuse, of what you would call a back seat.

  “Sure you have the room Rubin?” Duncan’s eyes averted back to Rubin who was now walking around to the driver’s side. “Mate seriously, you need a bigger car.”

  “Fuck off Duncan, Betsy does me well” he said proudly, giving the roof of his car a playful, but proud few taps.

  “Betsy?” Duncan exclaimed “Is that the name of your car, or the young lady you have squashed in the back seat?” Duncan laughed as the two men got into the vehicle. The young lady who was looking somewhat uncomfortable leaned forward. She was dressed in an evening dress with lots of tulle, and rustled with every move she awkwardly made.

  “Hi I’m Bernie” she smiled.

  “Nice to meet you Bernie.” smiled Duncan as he shook her hand firmly and she retreated back into her uncomfortable position in the tiny back seat of the MG.

  The vehicle started after Rubin’s third attempt, after choking and spluttering, till she stopped dead, much to the amusement of the M.P.s who had been watching the two men and the car.

  “Seriously, this car is fucking tiny. I mean, Jesus Rubin, look at the size of you for a start. How the hell do you fit in here?” He looked at the bulky six foot two man sat squashed beside him in the driver’s seat. “I don’t know mate, you better drive safely or they will have to use a tin opener to cut us out of this tin can.”

  And with that Rubin laughed hard. He put his foot down, the car screeched as he turned the corner onto the main road and they flew down the road at some speed with the ‘Rolling Stones - Street Fighting Man’ blaring out over the expensive ‘Blaupunkt’ music system Rubin had only installed a month earlier. They drew up outside Duncan’s house twenty minutes later. Duncan got out of the car. He helped the young lady squeeze out from behind his seat and onto the pavement where she popped promptly back into the car, in the seat that Duncan had just vacated.

  Rubin popped the boot and Duncan grabbed his kit bag and swung it over his shoulder while he pushed the lid of the boot down closed. He raised his arm in a goodbye gesture as Rubin sped away into the night. No doubt to one of his famous wild parties he was known to attend.

  Duncan swung open his gate and walked up his garden path, his footsteps crunched on the gravel path, under his military issue boots. The excitement in him built with every step he took as he approached his front door. He was contemplating whether he should ring the doorbell and wait for Juliette to answer. Just the thought of Juliette filled him with excitement. It was only when he got to the door and his finger ready to press the bell he decided to wait and surprise her. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his keys.

  The cold brass slipped into the keyhole and he quietly turned it clockwise, he felt the door release and he pushe
d it open quietly.

  The house was lovely and warm in comparison to the cold icy air that was outside.

  He dropped his kit bag down in the hallway. It was only then he checked his watch, it was the first time that night he had looked at it since he had landed. He knew it was late and Juliette would probably be in bed, as the house was in darkness. He then realised he was empty handed; he should have asked Rubin to stop at an off license, however there should be a bottle of champagne in their fridge, he would grab that. He quietly made his way to the kitchen and opened the fridge, expecting to see the bottle chilling there. However it wasn’t. He thought maybe Juliette had used it as a gift. She was forever replacing the bottle, having been constantly caught on the hop, with someone’s birthday or occasion.

  Fuck it he thought, I’ll buy one tomorrow. And he returned to the hall way, to the bottom of the stairs and proceeded to go up them.

  It was only when he was halfway up that he heard the sounds omitting from one of the bedrooms. He hurriedly made his way up them, two by two until he reached the landing. He stood there momentarily, trying to decipher where the noise was coming from.

  To his horror, the noises got louder as he neared their bedroom. He turned the handle and pushed, opening the door.

  He stood in the doorway briefly glued to the spot. He wasn’t expecting to see what he did.

  He blinked, mesmerised by the sight before him. There on his bedside table was the opened bottle of champagne. He looked to their king-size bed and there was a naked Juliette, straddled across the owner of two feet still clothed in their socks under her. Juliette was grinding hard into the sock person. Her brunette hair hung loosely down about her shoulders, her head moving with her groans of ‘Fuck me harder’. The sock-man hands were firmly gripping her hips as he pulled her back and forth on him.

  Duncan stood there, momentarily lost for words; she was grinding him so hard she hadn’t noticed Duncan standing in the doorway. For a split second he didn’t know whether he should turn and walk out, or pull the cheating bitch off the fucker, which he was going to knock six bells of shit out of.