All About Faith

This story is quite long, but hopefully it will keep you amused.For me the development of the character(s) is very important so this one is quite slow at the beginning. As always any resemblance to persons living or dead are purely accidental. All characters are made up from my own warped imagination. The story belongs to me, so please do not use it without my permission. As always the tale contains descriptions of many kinds of sexual activity, so if you are under 18, or those kind of things offend you, please move on. As always this story is set in a utopian World where STD's and unwanted pregnancies do not exist.

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Faith pushed away her glass. The third Vodka and Tonic for the day and still barely one in the afternoon. She hated the down time and the waiting. The waiting was the worst. Waiting messed with your head as you usually didn`t know what you were waiting for. You just knew you were waiting for the next job. You also knew that the next job might be the last one ever if it all went tits up.

Faith stared over the half empty glass at her reflection in the mirrored wall of the bar. The bar was just off the Old Kent Road around the corner from her tiny bedsit. She didn`t use the bedsit that much but had needed an address to open her bank account. She had bought the flat outright after working contracts for a few years in Afghanistan. That was over two years ago.

She didn`t look bad for a thirty eight year old, especially with her life story. Jet black hair cut short around the ears. Not because she liked the style, it was just convenient and easy to keep clean where showers were at a premium. The tanned face was courtesy of a month on an oil tanker in the Gulf on pirate protection duty. She had only been back five days and was already feeling antsy.

Hazel eyes still sparkled even after all the shit she`d seen. They were a gift from her long dead Mum and her Spanish heritage. Above the right eye was a tiny scar. A souvenir from her time in Mosul. A tiny straight nose that still surprised her after all the times it had been punched, headbutted and kicked. Full lips that were still her best feature in her opinion. "Blowjob lips" she`d christened them after one drunken night in the Sudan. Less said about that night the better.

Faith couldn`t see it as it was hidden below the bar she was slouched on, but her body was firm and muscled. An hour a day, every day, on the weights in her bedsit saw to that. At five feet ten she was tall for a woman, small breasts that didn`t interfere with her work. "More than a handful is a waste!" her best mate Trish had told her about a week before the IED in Kabul blew Trish`s tits all over the dusty no name backstreet she was in.

Faith had done fourteen years in the Military Police before she quit. She had been to all the places on this earth where God would shove an enema if the World needed one. In Faith`s opinion it seriously did need one. A year as a civilian had nearly sent her mental working earn nothing security jobs at shopping Malls and sports stadiums. A phone call from one of her best friends had put her in touch with the agency. A quick e-mail followed by an even quicker interview led to Faith working the last three years in the same shit holes she had done in the army, only this time getting paid four times as much.

Grabbing the pack of Bensons off the bar she pushed through the front door and into the midweek crowd on the pavement outside. She lit up and let the smoke scald her lungs before exhaling. On the second drag her mobile rang. In her eagerness to answer she nearly dropped the phone and ended up burning her thumb as she juggled phone and cigarette.

She had recognised the number, "Hi Yogi. What you got for me?"

"Hey Bobo. You bored yet?" Yogi was her old CO and the man that had got her into the agency. He was their HR Manager. Real name Michael Hughes, but nearly everyone called him Yogi as he looked like the cartoon bear. Faith had earned the nickname Bobo as where Yogi went Bobo inevitably followed.

"Off my tits. What the fuck do normal people do all fucking day. I am home five days, and I just want to kill everyone on my street. Anything you can push my way would be great, plus I got a fucking Poll Tax bill that looks like I live in Buck House rather than a shitty one room apartment in Elephant and Castle."

"I have something that's not your normal thing. Pay is good. Five K a month for 3 months. Unfortunately with taxes taken as the job is in the UK."

"Who the fuck pays that in the UK? Anyway, I´ll do it." Faithn paused. " What is it I am actually going to be doing?"

"The job is personal protection. You know the name Sven Kesselring?"

"Yeah. Some Tech wiz like Elon Musk!"

"Exactly. Well he is in the UK with his wife. They rented some mansion in Surrey. Its where all the footballers and Stock market whiz kids live."

"It`s hardly fucking Mogadishu is it Yogi!"

"No it isn't. However. In the last three months at least four of these mansions got knocked over. Looks like the same gang. Probably Albanians or some other Eastern block shit heads. Well, on the last one they found the wife of some Chelsea player at home when the place was supposed to be empty. They beat the crap out of her then all four took turns if you know what I mean!"

"Fuck!"

"Yeah Fuck! He wants a twenty four hour guard as his wife will be home every night as he is working up in the City and probably only coming home once or twice a week. I lined up Terry Jacks to do the 06:00 to 18:00 shift. I know you're a night owl, so you get 18:00-06:00. No off days. Three month contract. 5 K. Interested?"

"Send me the details. When does it start?"

"When can you get to Surrey?" Yogi was laughing on the other end of the line. "Terry is already there. You can dress in civvies'. Mr Kesselring wants this all low key. Terry can brief you when you get there."

"Weapons?"

"Glocks on site only!"

"Tell Terry I will be there at noon tomorrow. Email me the address. Contract we can do when you have written it. Bring it yourself as will be good to see you again."

"Can we do Sudan again?" He was laughing but there was an underlying seriousness in his voice.

"I had your cock in my mouth once Yogi. That`s usually enough for most men. So fuck off and just bring the contract and get your beautiful wife to do the cock sucking. How is Diana by the way?"

"A man can dream can`t he? She`s OK. Legs and lips shut tighter than a Jew`s wallet. I`m wanking so much I can hardly read the contracts I`m writing. Not my fault if 5 K becomes 1 K when I do yours!"

"If it does I will blow your cock off, and not in the nice way. capisci!"

They were both laughing now as she ended the call, ground out her cigarette, entered the bar, grabbing her coat and downing the last half of her drink before going back home.

By the time she got home she had a short mail from Yogi. The job was live in. Small granny flat for her and Terry to use. Laundry service provided. The address in Surrey. Terry informed and happy to work with her again. All sounded good. Terry was good people. She had done a months close protection with him in Yemen for some German industrialist and his wife. All went off without a hitch. He was also married to a stunning woman that he had met in Syria. Half his age and forever grateful that Terry brought her back to the UK. That gratitude mainly consisted of nearly fucking him to death whenever he was at home, so he was always glad of a break. Which meant no stupidity from him on the sex front.

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It was exactly noon the next day when the taxi pulled up outside two huge wrought iron gates. She paid the driver and got a receipt for Yogi. Her holdall was normal army issue, and she slung it easily over her shoulder. Before she could press the intercom button on the wall next to the gates they swung open, and Terry walked out. They clasped hands and half hugged as comrades in arms often do. Quick hellos were followed by a walk back to the huge house.

Off to one side was a small building that looked like a dolls house. "That`s ours!" Terry said. "It`s OK. Two bedrooms. Shower and toilet. Kitchen. Small lounge with cable TV. Stayed in worse!"

"Amen to that!" Faith replied softly as her mind played pictures of some of the serious shitholes she had stayed in over the last seventeen years.

"Go dump your bag and I will give you the grand tour. I leave the door open as we are here anyway. Your Glock is on the bed. Sign the waiver forms. Yogi said he would come down in the next few days to sort out all the other paperwork."

Faith easily found her room as Terry`s stuff filled the other bedroom. She completed the mandatory paper work before checking the pistol was on safety and clipping it to her belt. She dumped her bag and gave a quick glance into the bathroom, lounge and kitchen before rejoining Terry on the drive.

As they walked Terry began his briefing. "We have a guard hut. Unusually it is on the roof. However this allows for good sight lines to all the property. There are 3 CCTV cameras. On the front gate. One on the rear wall. One on the front door. Every room inside has a panic button. When hit a light will show which room with a buzzer. These are all in the guard shack. There are four main occupants. Mr. Kesselring. His wife. The stunning Olga. Was Miss Ukraine 2022 and about twenty years younger than him. Then there is Avril Lenz who is Mrs. Kesselring's personal assistant and as far as I can tell her best friend. Last but not least is Tabitha Woods. Housekeeper. Cleaner. Cook. She comes every day except Sunday. If you have laundry she collects from our chalet on a Monday morning. She also changes the sheets then. Meals are provided at 07:00 and 17:00. Any questions?"

Faith thought for a while. "No. All seems pretty straight forward. I`ll shadow you the rest of the day then take over at 18:00."

Terry gave her the thumbs up and said. "One thing I find strange, but Ms. Lenz assures me is no problem, is that we do not check cars when they arrive. If they are buzzed in from the house they are considered safe. I have only seen this once so far apart from Mr. Kesselring who arrives always in a Black Mercedes driven by his own personal driver. The other cars come in, heading straight into the underground car park. A few hours later they leave. Mr Kesselring always goes in the front door. If it`s a short visit the driver stays in the car. If he is here for the night the driver goes. Probably takes the car home."

"Whatever. I gave up trying to work out why rich people do stupid things years ago Terry. Now show me our guard shack."

Terry led Faith to the rear of the house. There was a spiral staircase leading up two stories to the flat roof. The guard shack was typical easy construction with windows on three sides and a wall of TV`s showing the feed from the CCTV. A table, chair, land line and radiator completed the cheap and cheerful construction. As Terry had told her the views were spectacular. She could just make out the skyscrapers of London in the distance as it was a nice clear day.

The rest of the afternoon the pair hung out and chatted. As with most ex-military this consisted mainly about talking about colleagues who were no longer around. Terry had also known Trish so they both laughed at exaggerated "Trish Stories" for a good hour. It was then that the phone rang. Terry answered. Faith heard his end of the conversation. "Yes Ms Lenz. OK. We will come down now. Yes she is. Faith. Yes I know her. One of the best Ms. Lenz. Yes. 2 minutes."

He hung up and said, "They want to meet you!" With that he led the way downstairs and round the building to the front door. It was being held open by a very pretty brunette in a black business suit. "Good afternoon Ms. Lenz. May I introduce Faith McDermott. She will be working the night shift from today." Terry said politely.

Faith held out her hand and the pretty brunette shook it firmly, "Nice to meet you Ms. Lenz."

"And you. You look to beautiful to be a soldier!"

Faith blushed and mumbled a thank you.

"Come in please." The pair followed Avril Lenz into a large lounge. Sitting on the massive sofa was one of the most stunning women Faith had ever seen. Even the loose fitting track suit couldn`t disguise a figure that curved in all the right places. Her face was a picture of perfection and framed by blonde hair that cascaded over her shoulders. Even the graceful way she rose to greet Faith emanated sex appeal. The slightly accented, "I am Olga. Nice to meet you Faith!" just added to the sensuality radiating from this gorgeous creature.

For the first time in many years Faith was a little tongue tied but did manage, "A pleasure to meet you Mrs. Kesselring!"

"Olga please. Avril can you try and find Mrs. Woods? I think she is in the kitchen."

Before Avril could move Faith heard someone call out from behind her, "No worries Miss. I`m already here."

Turning quickly Faith took in the overweight, jovial looking Tabitha Woods. She looked every bit the stereotypical cook come house keeper. Around fifty with rosy cheeks, a broad smile and carrying at least 20 kg to much. Her pudgy hand clasped Faith`s as she gushed, "Whatever you need love you just have to ask. If it is in my power it will be done lickety-split." This was followed by a huge guffaw that had everyone in the room smiling.

Faith swung her eyes back to the other two ladies. Both probably end of twenties. One all blue eyes, pale skin, blonde hair. The other green eyes, dark skin and brunette. Polar opposites, but from their body language, friends for a considerable length of time. Their interaction was easy, comfortable, and without the hang ups of a normal employer and employee.

As usual Faith wasn`t interested in hanging around with the subject. This was her terminology for the person she was protecting. "Subject on move". "Subject in bathroom". "Subject retired for the night".

"Well we will let you ladies get on with whatever you were doing, and we will get back to making sure you can do it worry free!" she stated before walking out of the lounge with Terry a step behind.

Once they were back in their eerie on top of the building Terry asked with a smile, "What do you think? Both fucking horny as shit or what. They are so close I always imagine them in bed together. The proverbial chalk and cheese if you like!"

"What Avril and Mrs. Woods?" Faith said straight faced.

Terry just said, "Fuck Off!"

The rest of the afternoon was taken up with explaining the equipment and the paperwork. As always these jobs were more about documenting everything correctly than high adrenalin action. Both being ex-military they were resigned to reporting every last fart. At 18:00 exactly Terry said, "You got this?" Faith nodded and he left her alone in the little shack. "I´ll bring you a flask of coffee before I pop down the pub. Want me to knock up a sandwich for you?"

"Thanks. Cheese would be great if you have any."

"Give me an hour to get a shower and call Fahima and I´ll bring it up. If you need anything in the night you can always pop downstairs. I sleep like a log so you will not disturb me. We are supposed to do a few tours of the grounds anyway during a shift. Staggered times as per usual."

"Got it. Now fuck off and call that nympho you call a wife. Or has she run out of steam now."

"Has she fuck! My dick is so sore I`m glad to get these jobs just for the break. She is coming next week to stay in the pub for a couple of nights as she says she don`t want me fucking that pretty Faith! I told her I`d have more chance of fucking a Kardashian!"

Faith was still smiling as he disappeared down the spiral staircase. In all the time they had worked together Terry had always been strictly professional. Even when they were seriously pissed in Istanbul waiting for their connection after the Yemen job he had been more interested in drinking with her than fucking her, and she had no interest in him either!

As a woman in this line of work it was always good to have that line clear in the sand. She had broken that rule a few times over the years. The infamous Sudan blow job with Yogi. There was a brief fling with a dyke, Yank major in Kabul. She was more of a man in bed than some of the men Faith had shagged. There was the suave Italian diplomat in Iraq that she had spent three days with in his hotel room. So long in fact that she nearly got reported as AWOL. That was one she owed Yogi for clearing up with no black mark on her record.

Faith liked sex. She wasn`t addicted to it like some people she knew. If the opportunity arose and she was in the mood she was quite happy to sleep with men or women. On one infamous New Year`s Eve in Dubai she had done a threesome with some Arab and his European wife. It was fun for a while, but she had been pissed, and it all got a bit confusing before she ended up puking in the toilet. Hamid or whatever his name was wanted to shove his cock up her arse and Faith had tried to sober up pretty quickly before that could happen.

All this thinking about sex was not healthy with a long, lonely, probably boring night in front of her. The "subject" would definitely be one that Faith would fuck if the chance arose after she ceased to be the "subject". Avril was also a good looking woman that Faith would not kick out of bed. For Tabitha Woods on the other hand Faith would need about twenty pints and a bottle of vodka before those plump hands got anywhere near Faith`s pussy.

Faith got up and walked the perimeter of the roof. It was a pleasant evening, and it was just becoming dusk. London was lit up in the distance, but the neighbours houses were all dark or probably just hidden from view behind the multitude of trees. The roof was about 20 meters by 20 meters with the shack positioned near the front edge. It was far enough back that it wouldn`t upset the aesthetics of the house when people came up the drive. Directly in the centre of the roof was a large sunlight which was approximately 2 metres by 2 metres. Faith peered down into the dark room but could only see some vague shapes that were probably beds or a sofa.

Terry arrived with her flask and a couple of cheese and pickle sandwiches wrapped up in silver foil. She thanked him as he went off to have a couple of pints. He had told her there was a nice boozer about ten minutes down the street, but the prices would blow your hair off. One of the downsides of living in the stockbroker belt. Did nice pub grub most evenings as well.

When it got dark Faith flicked the switch and filled the cabin with pale light. She had bought five books at WH Smith in Victoria as she knew how boring these jobs were. The chances on an Albanian burglary gang turning up and her having to fight her way through them to save the subject was about one in twenty million. These people were not fucking stupid. One quick reconnaissance of the property would highlight the armed guards, and they would wander off to look for a softer target. The main rule of security was making it so difficult to get to your subject that the bad guys fucked off and looked elsewhere.

Faith was already on Chapter 5 of the latest Harlan Coben novel when she heard the whirr of the front gates opening. Glancing up from her book she watched a large Jeep SUV with tinted windows drive up to the house before disappearing down the ramp into the underground car park. Terry had told her that there was a lift that went direct from there to all the floors of the house. Faith watched closely to make sure nobody crept in behind the car as the gates closed automatically.

Satisfied that everything was in order she went back to her book for a brief minute before the sound of voices coming from below disturbed her concentration.