by Zack
Luke himself was wildly hungry for Jan now. His own cock throbbed with delicious pain against the rough sand beneath him. He had to take him soon or they would both shoot.
Reluctantly, he let Jan’s balls slide from his mouth and turned him over onto his stomach. He had to get that asshole lubricated. But not too quickly. He took his time squirming around until he was again lying over Jan’s back, but this time with his cock pressed into the wide muscled back and his head between Jan’s legs. He pulled the convulsing ass cheeks wide apart and then bit at the taut flesh. Jan used his considerable strength to buck his ass up off the sand, the better to press his spine into Luke’s boner, while Luke buried his face into Jan’s cleft. He dragged his tongue down the deepening slit and the beautiful pungent smell of the man filled his nostrils. The fine ass hairs tickled his tongue. He passed briefly over the pucker and licked the ridged perineum.
“Dear god Luke, suck my asshole, wet it, fuck it with your tongue, get me ready for that dick of yours. I can’t hold out much longer.”
Luke pushed his tongue out until it ached. He dipped in deep to wipe the asshole in long wet swipes. As soon as the hole was dripping with spit, he curled his tongue, tensed it, and thrust it at the dark, puckered flesh. Jan sobbed with ecstasy and heaved himself up again to bury his ass deeper in Luke’s face.
“Now Luke, now, fuck me stud. Please, fuck me!”
Luke rapidly withdrew his tongue, got off the man and rolled him onto his back again. “Now I’m ready to fuck you, you great big beautiful fucking hunk!”
Luke leaned over Jan’s heaving body and dribbled a mouthful of the saliva and sweat he had collected from the man’s asshole, along the jerking cock, then took the great weapon in his mouth.
“Oh shit! Slick it!”
But Luke took the cock from his mouth and moved his own meat to rest on Jan’s gasping mouth. “Slick mine baby, ready to slide up your ass. Slick it, slick it!”
He pushed his cock into the gaping mouth, but he could not stay there for long for fear he wouldn’t be able to stop the fire roiling in his balls. As soon as Jan had covered it with his saliva he pulled out and moved quickly between the widespread eagerly waiting legs. He hauled them up onto his shoulders.
“Take me Luke, don’t fuck around, ram it up me fast and hard. Ram it … go man, ram it!”
Luke did just that, a massive savage thrust that took him all the way up inside Jan, and if there were a sense of revenge in the violence with which he did it, didn’t he deserve some recompense? Oh, man! He was right into that tight, hot ass that he’d waited so long for. Jan’s head snapped back and his eyes glazed as Luke began to pound his meat into him, wild, rampant thrusts, as he lost all control and his cock took over. The strokes were long and hard with all the weight of his brawny body behind them. Each time he brought his flaring cock head to the portal, almost slipping out, only to slam back in again in a full cock-length fuck.
The Jan’s body stiffened as Luke crammed his prostate and his chest rose into the air like a man struck by a defibrillator.
“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Oh hell! Yaaaaaah!”
Jan was cumming and cumming, thick creamy gushes that sprayed into the air to cover their chests and faces and arms. And now Luke was there, the boiling released by Jan’s long scream, gushed and he poured his seed into the intense heat of the man’s juiced insides. As he orgasmed, Luke grasped Jan’s cock, dripping with cum, and began to jerk him as he felt himself shooting for a second time. His mind blanked out as he gave in willingly to the thrusting spasms, a deep beautiful ache in his loins. Jan felt it and reached a second climax, filling the pools of cum on his abdomen until they overflowed and ran down his sides.
Luke fell on top of Jan all energy suddenly gone, and they writhed together sensuously, briefly, in the jism that covered them, then lay still in each other’s arms, fighting to recover breath.
The sun was setting as they pulled away from each other, its red-gold orb shimmered and spread as the fire met the horizon.
They walked easily across the hot sand to let the warm Caribbean sea wash away the last traces of sex. Luke relaxed as the lagoon’s wavelets ran across his body, but he sensed a preoccupation in Jan at odds with his normal offhand snappiness. Neither spoke, just listened to the sounds of the sea, the cry of distant birds and the growing chorus of crickets in the coarse grass behind them.
When they returned to the beach, Jan looked at Luke and said, “Perhaps one day we’ll meet again, who knows.”
Luke didn’t know what to say. They were strange words and Jan’s voice sounded far away, lonely, perhaps even sad. Before Luke could find some answer, Jan spoke again.
“There’s a lot you don’t know. You are helpless and, yes, I am also helpless. We must play this little drama to the end and hope perhaps that we can change its course slightly. I can say no more, except…you must promise me that you and no one else will take out the watchtower tonight.”
Luke frowned. “I promise … but you gotta explain. I know there’s some weird shit about this set up, but I can’t find it.”
“I’m truly sorry, Luke, I can’t tell you anything else. To say more would be to betray my … well, to betray.”
Jan would not speak again as they made their way back to the compound.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Bonus Island
Just before twenty-three-hundred hours two speedboats scraped softly up the beach and the assembled recruits slipped over the sides. The forty-minute trip across the black sea under the glimmer of millions of stars and the full moon, gave everyone time to adjust to night sight. Luke fretted at why they had not been equipped with night-vision goggles—he hadn’t really believed Jan’s excuse—but it was another part of the puzzle this weird mission represented.
As the twin humps of the enemy island blotted out the stars on the horizon, the boats’ motors slowed to a quiet purr and they drifted toward the beach. A few hundred yards away through the trees they could see the glow of the spotlights surrounding the target house. Luke’s unit wore bush shorts and thick-soled combat boots. The guys carried sheathed knives on their belts. The rest of the recruits were in full combat kit and were armed with handguns and knives. In addition to his long knife, Luke also had a small but powerful torch attached to his belt.
“Remember, the guards on the watchtower and at the gate are changed half an hour after midnight,” whispered the sergeant to Luke. “You must take them just after they change. We’ll be waiting in the undergrowth outside the main gate.”
They had twenty-five minutes left and Luke collected his men. Just before setting off he looked around for Jan and saw him standing in the darkness on his own. Luke made to go toward him but Jan turned away. Luke felt rebuffed, but there was no time to dwell on it.
The two squads split up, and Luke headed along the beach for the edge of the swamp. Before setting sail he had taken Harry on one side and told him what Jan had said. They had discussed it for some time, going back over what they knew, but no answers were forthcoming. They agreed to stick close to each other and be ready to change the plan of attack if anything unexpected happened.
“You take the gate, Harry, while I’m in the watchtower, and then at least you and I control the two vital points of the assault.”
They had decided to say nothing to Brad or Jim at this stage. Both looked nervous enough as it was. But as they crabbed their stealthy way into the swamp, Luke whispered to Brad that if anything went wrong he should stick close to Harry.
The first part of the swamp was less overgrown than the one in which they had practiced on the atoll and they made good time through the ungainly trees. The light cast by the spotlights reached almost to the edge of the more thickly clustered mangroves where the creek they were following dried up. The men lay in a couple of inches of mud while Luke and Harry surveyed the grounds.
The house stood about two hundred yards away to their right. The watchtower stood in the center of the grounds ahead. The main gate
was about a hundred and fifty yards to their left. A clump of palm trees and spiky pineapple bushes about fifty yards from the watchtower and slightly toward the house provided the only cover in the whole of the space between the swamp and the house.
Luke tapped Harry’s shoulder and pointed. Three men in black uniforms appeared from the side of the house. One of them headed toward the watchtower, the other two for the main gate. The watch changed at the gate and the men appeared to have a brief conversation and then the relieved guards began walking toward the house. As the two men disappeared around its side, the guard in the watch tower descended the ladder, exchanged a couple of words with his relief, and then followed his comrades, heading for a rest.
The new duty guard rapidly shinned up the vertical ladder to his aerie.
“Okay Harry, take Brad and your four with you to the gate, but don’t move until you see me signal from the tower. The rest come with me. When I say go, head for those palm trees.”
He saw the guard in the tower light a cigarette and make a full three-sixty-degree survey of the grounds, then lean back against the railings and look toward the lights of the house, no doubt wishing he were there, in his bed.
“Now!” Luke hissed.
They ran silently on the rubber soles of their boots, bent low, across the sand and scrub grass. They made the partial security of the trees and dropped to their haunches behind the pineapple bushes to catch their breaths.
“Right, Jim, you come with me. When we make the base of the tower, I want you to lie down flat and keep out of sight. You two cover us from here.”
The guard continued to face the house and Luke and Jim reached the wooden legs of the tower undetected.
Jim hunkered down, as Luke started up the ladder very slowly. It took him a good five minutes to make what he assessed was a forty-foot climb, testing each rung for any creaking. On the last few rungs before reaching the open trapdoor Luke put his body into a crouch and climbed as far as he could until his head was only a few inches below the opening. He lifted himself up cautiously until his eyes were on a level with the cabin’s floor. He could see the guard’s head. He was looking out over the grounds, his weapon, a good old reliable AK-47, slung casually over one shoulder. He didn’t seem very alert.
The moment was right. Luke slowly eased his blade free of its scabbard as he snaked his left arm through the trap door, grabbed the guard’s ankle, and yanked hard. There was a grunt of surprise and the man fell on his ass on the boards. Luke sprang through the gap in an instant and jumped on him. He clamped a hand over his mouth, then raised the blade and struck hard behind the ear with the haft. The guard slumped, stunned. Luke forced an eyelid open, saw the man’s eye had rolled up, and breathed more easily. He should be out for long enough.
He pushed up to a low crouch and cautiously peered over the edge of the low wall. The two guards patrolled undisturbed at the gate. He looked in the opposite direction and could detect no unusual activity from the house. Unclipping the torch, he cupped a hand around its lens to shield the light and gave three quick flashes in the direction of the swamp. A few moments later he could just make out the dark shapes of Harry and the others making their way stealthily down the inside of the fence toward the gate. Fortune was on Harry’s side, for at that moment the guards paused, laid their weapons down, and took out smokes. As the one bent to get a light from his partner, Harry’s men pounced and poleaxed them. It was over in a few seconds. Harry gave an arms-wide wave up at the watchtower. Luke flashed the torch again to show he had seen.
Then Luke remembered Jan’s words. Why did he want me and no one else to take the watchtower? Somewhere there must be a clue.
He looked around and could see only the unconscious guard and his dropped weapon. He let his eyes roam the wooden roof. And then he saw it, peeping over the edge of the eaves. A camera.
And then it hit him like a body blow.
It’s all a set up!
There was no “neighbor” holding onto Ström’s adjacent property who had to be ejected. This whole place was obviously riddled with cameras linked to the hacienda’s control room on the atoll island. Ström not only wanted a record of them fucking each other stupid, he intended to video them killing each other!
“Shit, shit, shit! The whole fuckin business is a con,” he hissed under his breath. “A mock battle, except it’s not mock, is it? Men are going to be snuffed for some pervert’s thrill, and the only ones who know it are Mister Ström, the sergeant, and … and Jan!”
Why Jan? He struggled to understand. The sergeant—that was easy. The slimy bastard was obviously being paid top dollar to hire young guys and then lead them to the slaughter. But Jan? What the fuck was his involvement? Why had he hinted at trouble and sent Luke to take the watch tower? To discover the clue as to what was going on, obviously. But … it was all so confusing. On the beach Jan had sent him mixed signals, warning him but refusing to … betray someone.
But there was no time for any further thoughts. He had to save his friends.
Luke whipped around toward the gate again to shout and warn Harry. To his horror he saw the gates already agape and the recruits of the second unit streaming in, guns at the ready, urged on by the sergeant, who remained by the gate.
“Harry! Get down!” Luke yelled.
He saw Harry look up at him, then grab Brad and push him into a clump of bushes. But the sergeant had also heard Luke. He ran for Harry, hit him with the butt of his pistol, grabbed Brad, and began hauling the youngster toward the side of the house. The rest of the recruits were spread out and heading for the building. And then he heard a shout from the house.
“Now!”
Luke knew they were running headlong into a trap. Ström was determined that there should be a juicy killing field for his cameras.
All hell broke loose as black-uniformed men poured from the house through several exits, firing at the oncoming recruits. Luke saw at least four of his comrades fall under the hail of bullets. He grabbed up the unconscious guard’s AK-47, slung its strap over his shoulder, and dived for the trap door. His feet barely touch the ladder rungs as he slid down, ignoring his friction-burned palms. And then he slammed into the ground to find Jim lying dumbfounded by the unfolding horror.
“Come on, boy, we gotta get into that house. They’ve got Brad and we’ve got scores to settle.”
He yanked Jim to his feet and they ran toward the side of the house, keeping as much as possible to the shelter of the tree line which began a few years from the tower. The guards’ attention was directed entirely at the recruits swarming to their front, who fought back bravely. Luke and Jim made the shelter of the shadows thrown by lush bushes clinging to the building’s side walls without being spotted by the enemy.
They worked their way quickly to the rear of the house.
A luxurious length of glazing similar to the window at the hacienda overlooked a wide expanse of manicured lawn. Two of the panes were slid open to admit the faint sea breeze. Through the glass he could see Ström, the sergeant, and Jan. Ström was dressed in some weird form of full military gear, as though he were the president of a banana republic and the others were his senior officers. He held Brad by the arm and spoke urgently to the boy, who looked terrified. Luke took in the rest of the room, which was plastered with militaristic trophies and the kind of memorabilia that reminded him of the sort of stuff he’d seen in a movie about a South American dictatorship.
No time to wait, no time to think. He made up his mind. Gripping the Kalashnikov, he lunged for the open window, and burst into the room.
Ström wheeled around. He pulled Brad close to him, arm around his neck so that the boy shielded him.
“Ah, my young, brave friend, you have come to rescue your lover. I’m afraid you’re a little late.”
Ström had a wicked looking blade held at Brad’s throat.
Luke looked at the three men and then let his eyes settle on Jan.
“Why Jan? Why couldn’t you tell it all?”
>
“You bastard traitor!” the sergeant snarled. He whipped around on Jan and went for the handgun at his waist holster.
“No!” Ström screamed.
But Jan didn’t wait. He raised his own pistol and fired off three fast shots. Tap, tap, tap. The first took the sergeant square in the chest. Then the gun’s recoil jerked the barrel up so the second tore into his throat and the third took the sergeant between the eyes. For a second, he stood there, and then, as a puppet with its strings cut, he collapsed to the richly carpeted floor.
Ström stood, Brad in his grasp, with an amazed look on his face.
Jan then turned to Luke. “I … I didn’t know all of it until last night, and besides... he is my father.”
Luke was frozen with the shock of it.
“It’s true, then! Traitor!” Ström hissed at Jan. “But you are still too late and you have just killed this boy.”
Ström tensed to make the killing cut through Brad’s neck. Neither Luke nor Jan could do anything—Brad was in the way. Luke steeled himself to fire and hope to avoid the boy. Then a shot rang out and the side of Ström’s temple erupted in a fountain of blood, bone, and brain matter. The blade fell lifelessly from his hand as the force of the shot snapped his head sideways before his knees buckled. Ström’s corpse folded and thumped to the carpet in a rustle of stiff uniform and the jangle of medals.
A familiar head appeared around an open door at the back of the room.
“Seems I was almost too late,” said Harry.
Jan crossed over to the crumpled form of his dead father and looked down. “I didn’t know how evil he was. It was all supposed to be blanks, but the sergeant let something slip and I had a bad feeling about it.”
