This is the second of a six-part story. Be sure to read the first part to see how the deputies ended up in their predicament. Your feedback and ideas are welcomed. Enjoy!
Disclaimer: All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
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The first part of the Cobra Crew's latest job went off without a hitch. The trio was at the rear of the passenger van, checking out their handiwork. The two duties were in the vehicle, seated on the floor. They were also stripped down to their underwear and tied up together.
Deputy McNamara and Deputy Cortez were put in a forced-embrace position, wrists bound with their own handcuffs, which rested on the other's backside. Their bare legs were also wrapped around each other, since their ankles were shackled to the metal catches on the opposite sides in the van. A further barrier to their freedom was the noose tied around their necks -- one designed to tighten on both ends if they were to pull away from the other.
As such, their upper bodies -- particularly their scantily-covered tits -- were pressed together. Their heads were almost touching, and the potent odour of sex lingered between them, a reminder of the cum caked on their faces. Both officers' mouths were now filled with the panties of their assailants, and duct tape was used to keep their gags in place. Two black blindfolds were tied tightly around their heads.
Despite all the restraints, the two deputies wriggled about as much as they possibly could. This was due to the egg-shaped vibrators planted in both their pussies. They were still wearing their own panties, which kept the unwanted, battery-powered intruders from being dislodged. The devices were turned to the "random" power setting, causing unexpected levels of stimulation to the distracted deputies.
"This ought to keep you lovebirds busy." Cammy nodded, giving the policewomen's exposed nipples a good squeeze. Unfortunately for the officers, their cries of desperation did not travel very far.
The lead assailant gave themselves a final once-over. Both Cammy and Valerie were now fully decked out in the deputies' navy-coloured uniforms, complete with the police cap and name badges. Just as planned, Cammy was a perfect fit for Deputy McNamara' shirt and trousers, and while Valerie was both slimmer and taller than the Latino officer, both filled out their stolen uniforms quite nicely. The only items they put aside were the Glocks, preferring their own choice of lethal weapons.
Ryan kept his somewhat-cumbersome business attire, merely removing his tie and loosening the collar. The hulky enforcer checked his sub-machine gun once more.
"All right, target's ETA in 15. Let's move into position."
The passenger van carrying the two hostages drove off first, and the two imposter deputies followed suit in the hijacked Tahoe. For several miles, both vehicles sped along on the county road, in the direction away from the main town. Their headlight beams sliced through the moonless night, illuminating the fading yellow lines on the pavement.
"Three hundred feet to Checkpoint Victor -- Romeo, this is your stop."
"Roger that Cobra."
The vehicles rolled to a stop with some distance between them, turning almost perpendicular to the road, blocking both lanes. This stretch of road was completely empty, save for the tall evergreens dotting the landscape. The trio jumped out and made the necessary preparations. Cammy went over her mental checklist and nodded in satisfaction.
"Perfect. Let's stay sharp."
Several minutes later, a pair of headlights came into view for Cammy and Valerie. They stood calmly in front of the police SUV, its blue and red lights flashing. The bright glow from the two burning flares on the ground came together for a bright, multi-coloured illumination.
The approaching vehicle pulled to a stop, about ten yards away from the makeshift roadblock. With all the extra light, the caged windows on the unmarked Ford twelve-passenger van could be seen.
"Female passenger confirmed. Cannot confirm objective yet." Valerie reported into her headset.
"Roger that, Vixen, standing by." Ryan replied.
Cammy strolled casually toward the driver side, flashlight in hand. The window rolled down and the heavyset driver waved.
"What's happenin', deputy?"
"Collision up ahead, sir." She gestured to the silver passenger van, its hazard lights flashing, in the distance. "Road's closed."
"For how long?" The passenger inquired, sticking her head into view.
"Not sure, ma'am, could be hours."
"Could we lend some assistance? I'm Deputy Joseph Patrick of the Marshals Service."
"Marshals? Are you on-duty?"
"'Fraid so." He flicked his thumb at the rear, where Cammy caught a glimpse of a man in an orange jumpsuit. "We are scheduled to check in at East Hudson at 2300."
"I see. I am afraid you won't arrive on schedule then." She said nonchalantly. The two law enforcement agents looked puzzled.
"Yeah? Cuz' of the closure?"
"No, because your trip ends here."
Cammy pulled out her semi-automatic from the holster and pointed it at the driver. At the same time, Valerie stepped into view, covering the passenger side with the Mossberg shotgun.
"Put your--"
"Joe, step on it!!" The passenger screamed. Both agents ducked, and the prisoner van accelerated forward wildly. With headlights suddenly closing in on her, Valerie was forced to roll out of the way as the van steered in the direction of the right shoulder.
"Shit!" Cammy quickly squeezed off two rounds, shattering the driver side window with her first shot, before putting a hole in the windshield. Valerie got up on one knee and fired low, but her off-balanced scattering of buck shots missed the tires, and did little to slow down the van.
The passenger van came precariously close to slamming into a tree before the driver regained control and steered it back toward the pavement, as it slipped around the idle Tahoe. The boxy vehicle shook with violence when it found the road again -- where it launched across the spike belt placed earlier by the gang. All four tires protested thunderously with mini-explosions, sending dark rubber debris in all directions.
With steering rendered useless, the van skidded along a guard rail, sending sparks everywhere. Ryan surfaced from his vantage point and sprayed half of his MP5 clip squarely into the engine, finally stopping the van. As smoke spewed from under the hood, he could see that the passenger door slid open. A hand with a Browning M1911 pistol emerged and fired blindly.
"Romeo, pin her down!" Came the urgent command in his headset. "Vixen, cover the rear."
'Romeo' fired again from his covered spot, and the distinct notes of bullets battering the door forced the passenger inside. She returned fire, but her volley of FMJ bullets flew harmlessly into the air. With a slight smirk behind his mask, Ryan took his time to plot holes all around the passenger compartment.
Meanwhile, the army veteran fired two more shots at the driver side, but no one emerged. With the flashlight, she could see the head of the Marshal's deputy slumped against the wheel, unmoving.
With her target down, Cammy deftly changed course and approached the passenger side from the rear.
"Drop your weapon!" She shouted, firing a booming round that destroyed the side rearview mirror. From his position, Ryan fired another burst of sub-machine gunfire, targeting the side pillar.
They waited ten seconds before firing again, this time scattering glass shards into the vehicle. Finally, the Browning semi-automatic emerged again -- but now it was being dangled by a finger on the trigger piece.
"Damn it, stop shooting!" The passenger implored. A blonde woman gingerly lifted her hands through the space where her window should have been.
"Throw your weapon away or you're dead!"
She tossed aside her automatic and opened the door. She inched her way forward, careful to avoid the glass shattered on the ground. The female agent, still trying to catch her breath, wore a blue jacket with "ATF" in large, yellow letters. Cammy and Ryan can see a simple white silk blouse wore underneath her open jacket, which matched perfectly with her fitted khakis. Her large emerald eyes darted around, assessing the alarming scene before her.
"Look, please check on the Marshal. He needs medical attention..."
"Drop to your knees and shut up!" Cammy barked, motioning for Ryan to cover the federal agent.
"Hands on your head." He added, keeping the MP5 trained on her. Nervously, the agent complied and placed her palms on her shoulder-length blond hair. Ryan instantly noticed the way her blouse stretched across her full breasts.
Satisfied, Cammy join Valerie at the rear van doors. With a nod from her leader, Valerie discharged her shotgun round at an angle to the lock, and swung open the door in one swift motion. The man in the orange jumpsuit was curled up on the floor, barely able to cover his head with the handcuffs still on him.
"You Americans are much too trigger-happy." He said with a thick Mexican accent. He had a full head of dark brown hair and a well-maintained beard. The scar on his left cheekbone was most visible, and there was a dangerous edge in his eyes. He stared long and hard at the two hijackers in police uniform, paying special attention to Valerie.
"Mr. Escobar, a pleasure to meet you in person. Please, call me Cobra."
"Miss Cobra, my sincere thanks to you and your crew for -- meeting me here. Have you taken control of the situation?"
"Almost. Vixen, stay with Mr. Escobar while I get the keys for him."
"Of course, boss. But if Mr. Escobar thinks he can touch these babies --" Confronting his inquisitive stare, the young assailant smiled seductively and shook loose the first three buttons on her police uniform, showing the tops of her young bosom -- before leveling her shotgun at the man's face. "Mr. Escobar is dead wrong."
