Submitting to the Enemy: Colombian Concubine (BDSM Domination Erotica)

by Tucker, Fannie

  Submitting to the Enemy: Colombian Concubine

  By Fannie Tucker

  Copyright 2012 Fannie Tucker

  Kindle Edition

  ***

  Chapter One

  "Wake up, Audrey! Salas is on the move," Cal said as he squeezed his headphones against one ear and adjusted his long-range directional microphone.

  Colombia's climate is relatively mild, but the sun beating down on the surveillance van's roof all day had lulled me to sleep. I'd been drowsing in the front passenger seat as I gazed out at the verdant mountains, but now my eyes shot open and my heart raced in my chest. Cal Turner and I had spent the better part of a week waiting for this chance.

  "It's about time," I said. Cal and I made a good team, but long days cooped up together worn our nerves thin. The Central Intelligence Agency's National Clandestine Service doesn't advertise the long hours of discomfort and boredom when they recruit new agents, but they should. Even so, moments like this made the sacrifice worthwhile. I grinned at my partner like a giddy schoolgirl, then picked up my binoculars and peered through the van's tinted windows for my first look at Colombian drug kingpin Fierro Salas.

  The van sat nestled against the high brush at the edge of a mountain road. From our vantage point on the switchback, we had a perfect view of Salas's sprawling hacienda in the valley below. Through my binoculars, I watched as several bodyguards fanned out around the main house, each armed with an automatic weapon, their sharp eyes searching everywhere for a threat. I ignored them and focused on the black Mercedes rolling up the long brick driveway to the front of the house, an opulent structure of white stucco and rust-colored tile. The polished wooden doors opened, and Salas himself emerged.

  I was familiar with Fierro Salas's handsome face and pit bull physique from photographs, but pictures couldn't convey the powerful grace with which he moved. Despite the security precautions, he didn't hurry. He glided to the Mercedes like a stalking jungle cat, confident in his place at the top of the food chain.

  In the back of the van, Cal Turner spoke into his headset. "Base, we have eyes on Firebird, black Mercedes in the main drive. Do you have the target?" I stole a glance at my partner. Cal stared at the computer monitor, concentrating on the response from Langley. His square jaw was tight with tension now, but I knew he had a warm smile and laughing blue eyes that could charm the habit off a nun. Cal had been a US Army Ranger before the CIA scooped him up, and he still maintained a punishing regimen of physical fitness. He had stripped down to a sleeveless tank top that showed off the tight, hard muscles of his arms and shoulders. Even after a week in close quarters with my sweating partner, I had to admit that he looked good.

  Cal listened to Langley for a few more seconds, then slumped back in his chair with a relieved sigh. He looked at me and smiled. "They've already got a Predator drone in the air that will tail him into Bogotá."

  I slid into the driver's seat. "Then we'd better get there first," I said. Cal locked down the surveillance gear without a word and buckled up. I was a woman on a mission, and he knew better than to get in my way.

  The van was unremarkable in Colombia, just another beat-up old relic with rusted panels, but the Agency kept it running smoothly, and soon we were racing down a twisting road toward the city. If we hurried, we could be in the city an hour before Salas, since the road from his home took a long route through a lower mountain pass.

  Most Americans had never heard of Fierro Salas. The young and ruthless drug lord had fought his way up from the gutters of Bogotá to control the lion's share of Colombia's drug trade. That alone was reason enough to put him down like a mad dog, but I had a more personal agenda, and Salas was only a stepping-stone to my real target.

  Seven years ago, before I joined the CIA, I'd been in Army Intelligence. I have a natural gift for languages, raised by a Cuban mother in Florida, where I grew up speaking both English and Spanish, so the Army taught me Arabic and sent me to the Middle East. I'd seen it as a way to pay for college; I never imagined that I'd be assigned to a platoon in Afghanistan for six months. I was ostensibly there as a translator, but my real job was to cultivate contacts in Kabul and the surrounding areas when the unit went out on patrol.

  It had been during just such a patrol when my squad was ambushed in a narrow mountain pass north of the city. The resulting firefight was swift and violent, and several close friends paid the ultimate price that day. I don't like to dwell on those memories, even though that battle shaped what I've become.

  When the CIA later learned that a terrorist leader known only as the Mountain Wolf had orchestrated the ambush, an Agency recruiter contacted me to see if I would be interested in a career change. I jumped at the chance to hunt down the man who had killed my friends.

  Six years later, I knew that revenge was a dish best served cold, but it was starting to feel more like last week's leftovers. I used the contacts I'd developed in Army Intelligence and scoured Afghanistan from one end to the other with the resources of the CIA at my disposal, but I never even learned his real name.

  The Wolf was a folk hero in the mountain villages, a legend whispered in hushed tones. The peasants revered him for supplying food and medicine, things that seemed like luxuries in that bleak, harsh land. So after four years of banging our heads against the wall, the Agency decided to take a different tack. The Wolf was well-funded, and not by mountain goatherds. Of course, to follow the money, we had to find it. It had taken another two years to discover that the Mountain Wolf funneled Afghan heroin through a South American drug distribution network, but that was only one piece of the puzzle. We had to learn how the Colombian drug lord funneled money back to the Wolf.

  Fierro Salas ran the distribution network that sold the Wolf's heroin, so Cal and I were sent to Colombia to track his every move. Of course, the trick was learning how the money flowed without alerting Salas. If the Wolf found out we were sniffing on his trail, he'd vanish before we could get close.

  Attempts to intercept electronic transmissions hadn't worked. Salas conducted most of his business using the same smartphone, but each time he used it, he replaced the prepaid SIMM card, making it untraceable. If we wanted to learn what he was doing, we had to get to the phone itself, and that meant getting close to Salas.

  Today was our first opportunity to do that. As far as we knew, Salas went to Bogotá for only one reason - to find new women for his "stable." He kept concubines on his hacienda, beautiful women whom he showered with lavish gifts. When he grew bored with them, Salas sent them on their way with a generous cash payout, then returned to the city to find new girls. We figured that was our way in, and we'd carefully cultivated an agency asset to get close enough to Salas to copy the data from his phone.

  I drove way too fast on the narrow winding road, my mind racing with all the things that could go wrong, knowing that something would. As we bounced along, Cal sat with his arm hanging out the window, perhaps working a little too hard to be calm. I gave him a reassuring smile as I swerved around a pothole big enough to swallow a Honda Civic.

  "You know, Audrey, I've been thinking," Cal said. "When we get the data off Salas's phone, how about you and me head to my condo in South Carolina? We can lie on the beach all day and drink wine at night. No more mountains, and no more aguardiente."

  I laughed and deflected his latest attempt to get me in the sack. "I like aguardiente." The local sugar cane liquor was deceptively strong, and we'd spent our rare nights off sampling Bogotá's various brands. I liked Cal too, but I wasn't about to say that. He'd been hitting on me for years, and e
ven though I hated to lead him on, I hadn't ever quite turned him down. Cal was handsome and intelligent, but even though I wouldn't mind a tumble in the hay with him, I knew that would lead to one of us getting pulled off the Salas detail. We were a good team, and I didn't want to lose him.

  To distract him, I changed the subject. "Does Mike have Ana prepped?"

  Cal nodded and grinned. "He says she looks... exceptional in the dress you picked out."

  "Exceptional? Really?"

  "Well, his actual words were something along the lines of 'one hundred pounds of sexy in a fifty-pound sack,' but I think he was impressed."

  "Good," I said, slowing the van as we reached the main road. Salas would be "auditioning" girls all evening, so we had plenty of time to find out which hotel he was using and set up mobile surveillance nearby.

  "When we get to the hotel, I think I'll take a shower." I waved a hand theatrically under my nose. "You should take one too."

  "Good idea," Cal said. "Let's save water and share one."

  I laughed again. "Are all Rangers this single-minded?"

  "Only in the presence of beautiful women."

  Our hotel in downtown Bogotá was part of an American chain, and I could have been in Miami or Toledo, but the water was hot, the beds comfortable, and each room had a door reinforced with steel with three locks and an alarm system. Okay, maybe not Toledo. Detroit.

  With all that security, I'd grown far too relaxed in the room. It was easy to forget what a dangerous city Bogotá could be, especially in my line of work. Still, it felt good to strip out of my sweaty clothes and step into a hot shower.

  I stood under the showerhead and let the steaming water blast my scalp and sluice down my naked body. I tried to focus on the upcoming operation, but Cal kept slipping into my thoughts like the spy that he was. Looking down at myself, it was easy to imagine that he felt only lust for my blend of taut muscle and soft curves. I had the muscular legs and high, firm ass of an athlete, but my full, round breasts accentuated my femininity. My black hair framed a sharp face just exotic enough to draw too much attention, fair skin courtesy of my father's English ancestry, deep brown eyes from my mother's Cuban roots.

  But even if I didn't want to admit it, I knew Cal saw beyond that. What harm could there be if we...

  I pushed the thought away. I had to focus on the mission. Maybe Cal and I could come later. But even as I ran the details of our contingency plan through my head, Cal kept creeping back into my mind, the image of his blue eyes and sand-colored hair above the perfect body of a Ranger who refused to let himself slide into complacency. What would it be like to touch that body? To feel his hard, muscled ass, those slim hips, naked and wet against me in the shower?

  I shifted my hips a little as my desire awakened between my legs like an itch that needed scratching. My hand slid down the gentle curve of my belly and past the patch of dark hair. I spread myself apart, surprised at how wet I was... how ready.

  An insane thought flashed through my mind. I could call Cal and ask him to come to my room, then bring him into the shower with me. He wouldn't resist, and we could lose ourselves in each other.

  I imagined what it would be like to have him behind me beneath the hot water, leaning against his broad chest as his strong, gentle hands caressed my arms. My pulse quickened, and all thoughts of the mission fled like morning fog. I moved my hand lower and slid two fingers inside my pussy, feeling its tightness as I imagined Cal spreading me apart and penetrating me from behind. In my mind, he was aggressive enough to take what he wanted, but careful not to hurt me.

  I pulled my fingers out slowly, dragging my own moisture up along my slit, slickening the quivering bundle of nerves that had awakened there. I braced one hand against the tile wall and began to rub, slow and sensual at first as waves of pleasure rippled through my body. I was panting, I realized, breathing in the hot steam, my body dripping with sweat even as the shower washed it clean. My hand blurred into frantic motion, and in my mind, Cal grasped my hips, pounding me hard. Just the thought of him made my desire swell until it was too big to contain. My muscles tightened as an orgasm exploded through me, pulsing waves of intense pleasure that made me cry out at the sweet release of a tension I hadn't acknowledged. Then I slumped against the wall, breathless.

  I was just stepping out of the shower when my encrypted phone rang. It was Cal. I stiffened and had to remind myself that he couldn't possibly know about the dirty fantasy I'd just had.

  "Audrey, I just heard from the drone pilot in Langley," he said. "Salas switched vehicles twice, but he didn't plan on aerial surveillance. We followed him and his security detail to Hotel Casa Medina. Mike's team is setting up a couple blocks to the north."

  I breathed a sigh of relief. Even if he was ignorant of the CIA's surveillance, Salas's status as the biggest drug kingpin in Colombia complicated our efforts. With so many other enemies, Salas had proven extremely careful not to let anyone he didn't trust near him. When he left his hacienda, he always took precautions to ensure that his eventual destination was a surprise. He'd shaken our tails twice before, but it was hard to shake a Predator.

  "Let me get dressed," I said.

  "I'll be right over!"

  I rolled my eyes. "Easy, cowboy. I'll meet you in the lobby."

  We drove to the cheap hotel where Mike had set up the mobile observation unit on the second floor. Cal and I knocked and exchanged a few innocuous code phrases through the door. When Mike had confirmed that no one had a gun to our heads and we were there of our own free will, he let us in.

  The boisterous tech smiled at me and shook Cal's hand. Mike was a big man, and seemed fat at first glance, but that extra weight concealed the strength of an angry bear, and he had a dead eye with the .45 Colt he kept tucked in his waistband.

  The room was surprisingly ordinary, and I knew he could be gone without a trace in less than two minutes if the need arose. "Mobile observation" consisted of two laptops, a powerful receiver antenna, and lots of high-tech gadgetry that he kept in metal cases lined with thick foam padding.

  Ana Moreno sat on the bed. She smiled at me nervously and fiddled with one of her earrings, a pair of onyx studs that matched her dark eyes. A young woman with a tiny waist that accentuated her full bosom and a curvaceous bottom, Ana wore a red dress that left very little to the imagination, and strongly encouraged the admirer to imagine very dirty things. Physically, most men would find her irresistible. Given her strong motivation, she was the perfect asset for infiltrating Salas's inner sanctum.

  I greeted her in Spanish, and she smiled warmly. Not for the first time, her courage sent a chill up my spine. Fierro Salas had murdered her brother during his rise to power while Ana was still a girl. She knew he was dangerous, but we'd promised her an opportunity to hurt him, and she'd leapt at the chance.

  Of course, she'd have to be chosen as one of his new concubines first, and then sleep with him until she found a chance to access his phone. As badly as I wanted the information on Salas's phone to help track down the Wolf, I was putting this woman in danger and asking her to do something she no doubt found repulsive.

  "Ana, are you absolutely certain you want to go through with this?"

  To her credit, Ana nodded without hesitation. "Salas needs to pay for what he's done to my brother and so many others. If helping you will hurt him, then I'm certain."

  I searched her eyes for doubt and found none. "Mike, how will we keep eyes and ears on her?"

  Mike grinned. "Already done," he said, flipping open one of the laptops. On the screen, I could see an image of myself from Ana's point of view. Mike smiled at my startled expression when I turned back to her. "It's her left earring, he said. She naturally tilts her head to the right, so the image should be good."

  I leaned in to examine the onyx earring. The tiny camera and transmitter were invisible beneath the swell of what looked like a polished black stone. "Very nice, Mike. You're sure you can pick up the signal this far away?"

  He
grinned. "It's good for three miles, as long as there isn't a mountain between us. And it uses an ultra-high frequency, so they won't find it even if they sweep her for bugs."

  "How will she access his phone?"

  He grinned again. "The right earring does that. It's got a high-capacity solid state drive and a Bluetooth device that will link up with Salas's phone. A little program I borrowed from the NSA will hack any security and force a data transfer. The stud itself is a button; when Ana depresses it, it will link up with the nearest device and copy its hard drive."

  "And how long will that take?"

  "Thirty minutes, just to be safe."

  The level of technology Mike could pull out of his metal cases constantly surprised me. We all left unspoken the fact that no man would make a woman take off her earrings for sex. We'd have around-the-clock surveillance, and Ana just needed to get close enough to his phone for the data transfer to complete.

  "Alright, I guess we're ready," I said. "Cal, can you please take Ana down to the cab?"

  "Sure thing, Audrey," Cal said. He offered his arm to Ana, every bit the chivalrous gentleman. I knew he was trying to make me jealous, and I refused to acknowledge it. She smiled and slipped her hand around his forearm as he led her out of the room. Mike let out a longing sigh as he watched her round bottom wiggle as she headed for the door.

  I sat down on the hard, flimsy mattress, and Mike handed me a cold can of Costeña beer. I cracked it open and grimaced at the bitter flavor as I watched the video feed from Ana's earring.

  Cal opened the taxi's door for her, and she glanced back up at him as she settled into the back seat. He looked handsome, but I could see the concern in his eyes even on the dim video feed. Cal didn't want to put Ana in jeopardy either. I shifted uncomfortably on the bed when he smiled down at her.

  Mike noticed and grinned at me. He was a spy, after all. "What's with you and Cal?" he asked casually as he returned his eyes to the laptop.