Cobra Crew: Preemptive Strie

Policewomen are definitely in peril when the Cobra Crew is on the job! Find out how the gang shift from invading homes to stalking cops in the second of this five-part story. Your feedback is 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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Mrs. Carolyn Sullivan was almost... relieved to hear the approaching footsteps of the two assailants. At this point in time, she would do just about anything to get her housekeeper's hot, soapy pussy off her filthy face; do almost anything for a breath of fresh air, instead of being trapped under Tina's sweaty ass, and being smothered with Tina's raunchy, overwhelming scent...

The mistress of the house had lost track of the time, but she was fairly certain her housekeeper had at least three orgasms while "inadvertently" rubbing her pussy against her mouth. Carolyn tried everything -- struggling, ordering, pleading with her to stop, but Tina's whiny, gagged responses and continued humping of her face indicated she was either unable, or unwilling, to stop.

Maybe both.

"Did you miss us, bitches?!!" Carolyn wanted to shout 'yes' to the screaming young woman, but that was before her gloved hands went back to cupping her tits and pinching her sensitive nipples. In no time, she was the caressing her legs and poking at her vulnerable pussy again. Yes, she was definitely The Crazy One.

Meanwhile, she could feel her partner, whom she thought of as The Giant, landing on the mattress -- and likely cutting Tina loose. Finally, a breath of fresh air...

Suddenly, both assailants stopped. They shuffled around for something... then inexplicably, they left the room again, slamming shut the doors so hard that the frame rattled.

What the hell is going on? Carolyn fumed.

***

"Evac. EVAC. Meet at Eden DELTA in 45. EVAC NOW."

The two pairs of eyes stared blankly at the identical message on BOTH their devices, then at each other.

Their phones vibrated simultaneously again, and they received the same message, only this time, their boss added the words "EVAC IS NOT A DRILL" to emphasize the point.

"No fucking way..."

***

A minute later, Carolyn could pick up a heated conversation between the two assailants. She shushed Tina to stay quiet, and the hostages could definitely hear--

"... fuck Hammond..."

"We can't..."

"... should just kill the bitches..."

"... he hired..."

"... teach that bastard Mark... lesson"

"... just take the money... get the fuck out"

Mark Hammond? The name was familiar to Carolyn. Hammond was one of her husband's "business associates" down in Texas. Was he pulling an inside job--

Mrs. Sullivan did not get to finish her thought, as the assailants burst through the doors again.

"Well, it's your lucky evening, ladies. Saved by the bell, as they say." The Giant announced, without elaborating. To his partner, he added, "He didn't say HOW we should leave them alone."

"Nope. The motherfucker didn't say shit 'bout that." The Crazy One concurred, in that devious manner of hers.

Carolyn screamed when gloved hands descended on her again.

***

Cammy was focused on the glowing laptop screen in front of her, but she had no trouble hearing the soft rumbling of an approaching vehicle. That wasn't difficult since she was the only one parked on the dark pavement, under the lustrous moonlight. From her vantage point, she could see the glimmers from the reservoir water, just beyond the tiny control building.

The backup reservoir was just a mile off the Interstate, but there was no compelling reason for anyone to visit. The tall cement banks of the reservoir made shore fishing impossible, and there was no nature path constructed around the man-made lake. Still, Cammy took precautions, closing the lid on the laptop and slipped out of the Mercedes. She took a crouching stance with her vehicle as cover, a deadly M4A1 assault rifle slung around her shoulders.

The incoming vehicle had cut its lights, but Cammy could tell from the familiar engine sounds that it was a Dodge minivan. Still, she kept her finger hovering over the trigger until the van stopped about fifteen feet away, and a hulking form rolled out of the side door, taking up position behind a rock.

"Romeo. Vixen." Cammy called out, relieved to see her crew again. Val cautiously stepped out of the driver's seat, and Ryan emerged from his hiding place. In an unusual show of affection, the brunette came up to the young woman and embraced her. It was hard to tell in the dark, but Val seemed flustered by the extra attention.

"Boss, what's going on?" Val asked with concern in her voice -- and that was before seeing the weapon Cammy was carrying. "Holy shit, what's with the hardware? You expecting a SWAT team or something?"

To Val's dismay, her half-joke was not met with even a chuckle from Cammy.

"We're taking a drive." Cammy declared. "I'll fill you in on the way. Vixen, you're with me. Romeo, trail us."

She added, "It'll be a three hour drive, give or take." Both Ryan and Valerie raised their eyebrows in the dark -- this WAS serious shit.

"I'm really sorry your operation was cut short tonight." Cammy said sincerely, as Val climbed into the passenger side, re-jigging their headsets so they could conference in Ryan. "Did you have time to slip in the name for the missus?"

"We had to improvise, but I'm sure both bitches heard Hammond."

Mark Hammond was a name they picked out of the ATF/IRS report on the Texas weapon smugglers. Cammy thought it was worth a shot to sow seeds of distrust among the group. With any luck, the group may even fracture themselves to the point where Agent Koch and the ATF could swoop in -- that would be the cherry on top, since they were invested in the welfare of their ATF mole.

"Good. And what was the take tonight?"

"Estimate to be about two-fifty, plus at least a few grand from the Sullivans. They had other shit, but we just took the cash."

"A quarter of a mil -- that should get them riled up. That and all the nasty media you recorded."

"Oooh yeah." Val beamed. "With a select few making their way to the smugglers."

"And I imagine you left the ladies occupied."

"You bet." Val allowed a smile, as did Ryan in the minivan as he followed Cammy. "We'll show you later, Boss."

***

Carolyn screamed into her panties -- the pair she worn two days ago, when she decided to reward her horny husband by letting him take her from behind on the stairs. The same pair of black panties that collected his glob of cum as he came.

Aside from having the extra salty taste in her mouth, Mrs. Sullivan had other things to worry about, such as her naked housekeeper tussling above her. Tried as she might, Tina was not getting the message that with each struggle, the double-ended, rubbery dildo -- nestled in both their vaginas at the moment -- was rocking back-and-forth inside her.

In short, Carolyn was being fucked by her twenty-two-year-old housekeeper.

About an hour ago, with a wicked-looking blade pressed against her neck to ensure cooperation, Carolyn was penetrated by The Crazy One with one end of the rubber monster. At least they had greased up the massive thing with K-Y jelly. The Giant then dropped an exhausted Tina on her, so that they laid face-to-face, with their naked bodies pressed together.

Then they tied up Tina to the bed again, this time adding some kind of crude noose around their necks, with a dire warning that "if one pulled away, the other one will suffocate". Neither women wanted to verify the threat.

After that, came the rope. Lots of them, encircling their bodies. The Giant produced dead knots until their bare breasts were mashed together and their open pussies lined up.

The light-freckled blonde whined into her gag when the other end of the dildo filled her cunt, its entry made easy with the K-Y and the ample amount of juices from her earlier stimulation.

Unbeknownst to Mrs. Sullivan, before Tina was blindfolded for good, she was shown a pair of nail-clipping scissors -- placed on the mattress, just outside her reach. That was the reason for the housekeeper's desperate push forward...

"I hand-picked those creamy panties for you, CUNT." Carolyn cringed at the memories of the Crazy One spitting in her face, as she pressed down layers of duct tape over her lips, after cramming the worn panties deep inside her mouth.

"Tell Calderon, thanks for the cash." Carolyn's face ashen at the mention of the smugglers' de-facto head. Calderon would not react kindly to the disappearance of his money. She knew also that there was no chance they would report this to the authorities...

"Good night, Mrs. Sullivan." The Giant told her, after double-checking their binds. The bedroom doors were closed, and the mansion fell silent again.

Since then, the frustrated women exchanged their gagged dialogue, minus any meaningful communication. As Tina strained again to put her fingertip on the scissors, her mistress moaned at their hard nipples brushing back and forth... and knew she needed to cum... again.

Mark Hammond. Hammond did this. Carolyn had no idea who the hell he was, where he was, or even what he looked like, but he was now the target of all her wrath. He will pay, she thought, as Tina pushed into her again... Maybe Hammond has a wife... or a girlfriend.

Yes. Hammond's bitch will pay too. Whoever she was, the dark brunette thought, before she surrendered to Tina's rhythmic invasion...

***

"Here's the story," Cammy said, her sigh masked by the roar of the Mercedes engine as she merged on to the quiet Interstate. Her cold, no-nonsense tone left little room for interruptions, so Ryan and Val listened in silence.

"Three days ago, Diego Valdez was found dead in his home, with clear signs of torture." Valdez was Escobar's lawyer, the Crew's go-between for coordinating the breakout. "The best part was, the team of four federal agents assigned to protect Valdez was found unconscious, bound and gagged in his basement. Whoever off-ed Valdez, they're good."

"Turns out Valdez was getting protection because he was secretly working out a deal with the FBI. In exchange for immunity, he was going to give up dirt on everyone -- Escobar, his other clients, and... us. But Escobar found out about the betrayal through his sources, and put out a contract on Valdez."

Cammy proceeded to explain her unexpected meeting with Jessica -- conveniently leaving out the details of their... more personal encounter. Subconsciously, her hand darted into her pocket to touch the pair of see-thru panties there. Fortunately, Val was too engaged in the tale to notice.

"Investigators from the FBI, the ATF, the U.S. Marshals and the State Police had a long conference call tonight. The FBI shared that before Valdez died, he boasted to them that he kept EVERY piece of data. Information meant power to him. Remember the prepaid credit cards he gave us before the job?"

"Turns out the slimy bastard was using those to give himself leverage. He saved the records of every transactions on those cards. Date, time, amount, store and location to where we shopped for phones and equipment, the places we stayed in... basically everything we used for busting out Escobar."

"And that's not all. Valdez had a few of our bank account numbers. If the Feds got their hands on those, they could put all the pieces together and track us down... in days, who knows, even hours."

The grim silence in both vehicle spoke volumes. The situation was dire -- their trail, their money, even their safe houses could all potentially be compromised. Without their resources, it would only be a matter of time before they were captured -- or worse.

"So... are we going underground now? Wait, did Valdez give up the trail before he died?"

"That's where we've lucked out, apparently." Cammy frowned. "According to Agent Koch, Valdez was so paranoid about the government, he never posted anything online. He told the cops he made encrypted, password-protected copies of his data on exactly ten USB sticks. The FBI admitted he did not reveal his password, not until their deal was done. But, he never got the chance."

"After his death, the State Police followed his instructions and found all ten sticks from Valdez's home, office and deposit boxes. The State cops thought they could get a step ahead of everybody by making a copy first, before handing them over to the FBI. When they tried, the built-in protection program erased everything, Koch said... was it bit-by-bit?"

"Block-by-block, probably." Valerie, their resident computer expert, jumped in. "If they were dumb enough to sit there and let the program scramble the blocks around, and the data was encrypted to begin with... well, no one can put it back."

"Right. So the lead FBI investigator is flying in from D.C. in the morning with one of their top techies to check it out. If they can't decrypt it, they'll take everything and 'brute-force' it through their supercomputers, Koch said. Worst case, they could have the data in days..."

The pause in the two vehicles were just long enough for Val and Ryan to catch on to their boss' thoughts.

"Unless...?"

"Unless... we get to the sticks first."

The women's eyes met in the softly illuminated interior of the travelling SUV. In an instant, the trio understood what they needed to do.

"A pre-emptive strike. I like it. What's our move?" Ryan's voice came over their headsets.

"Why, I'm glad you asked." Cammy smiled, and directed Val to pull out the tablet. Soon, Val was staring at a map and a spreadsheet to the screen.

"We are going to start here..."

***

The drive to West Port City took almost three hours even with no traffic, but the Crew made the most of it by planning and improvising their moves along the way. They were now coming up to their first target, and their heightened sense of operation had returned. The Mercedes, running without its lights, rolled through an aging neighbourhood with wide lots, picket fences, and moderately-sized bungalows. Behind the darkly-tinted windows, Cammy and Valerie watched intently for their target. Val spotted it first.

"Third one on the right. Red bricks."

Cammy pulled over to the curb, and covered her head with a ski mask, while Val got ready to take over the wheel. The brunette tugged hard on the straps of her backpack as she stepped out of the SUV.

"Rendezvous with Romeo. You two be REAL careful -- do not underestimate your targets. Report in as soon as your objectives are met. Good luck."

"Yes, Cobra. Same to you." Val replied, her voice hardened to better match her mood. Her eyes kept scanning their surroundings, but the residential street was as motionless as one might expect at five o'clock in the morning. The night sky was now overcast and the moon was no longer visible.

The darkness suited Cammy just fine as she broke into a full sprint toward the red-bricked bungalow, her speed impressive as she ran in her knee-high boots. When she reached the fences at the side of the house, she hoisted herself up on the wood, ensured there were no surprises on the other side, and vaulted over.

Fifty feet later, she reached another set of fences, the end of the backyard. This time, she was careful in her approach, ducking to stay out of sight and peering over to observe her real target. Seeing no light nor movement, she quickly climbed over, and landed in the backyard and home of State Police Lieutenant Samantha Dawson.

The leader of the Cobra Crew was almost certain that the beautiful Lieutenant Dawson was home by herself, though she was sharing the space with another State Trooper, Melissa Holms. They knew Corporal Holms had the graveyard duty and, indeed, her car was nowhere to be seen. When they drove past her street earlier, the State Police cruiser and troopers who had provided protection for the policewoman was no longer present, which was also consistent with Agent Koch's report.

Another twenty-yard sprint later, the masked woman dropped to one knee with her side pressed against the ceramic bricks at rear of the bungalow. All was still, save for the soft whispers of a warm summer wind. After examining the simple patio door, Cammy took out a piece of magnet and fixed it near the lock. She patiently turned the magnet clockwise, until she heard the soft 'click' of the lock being disengaged.

She waited again, straining to listen for any reactions. Pleased with the simple break-in, Cammy was reaching for the door lever with her leather gloves when suddenly, a light came on in a bedroom in the home. Alarmed, the brunette pulled back and hid in the darkness.

Moments later, the kitchen light came on, forcing Cammy to retreat to the side of the bungalow, but not before she caught a glimpse of a willowy shadow passing inside.

How the hell did she hear me? Cammy thought, her thumb releasing the trigger lock on her S&W .40. But no one came out to the backyard. Adding to her confusion, the masked woman heard the unmistakable sound of an approaching car. She hid behind the fence when the headlights sliced through the darkness, and Cammy heard the car pulling up on the Lieutenant's driveway.

What the hell? The brunette was truly concerned now, her eyes darting at the way she came from, half-expecting police in full tactical gear to descend on her position. She pressed on her headset and whispered, "I may have company. Standby".

"Want us to turn back? Over." Val replied quickly.

"Standby." The still of the night was restored when the car engine turned off, and... that was it. Cammy sighed with relief as it slowly became obvious she wasn't the target of a takedown. Moments later, the brunette carefully hugged the walls and moved toward the front of the bungalow. She watched from the darkness as someone climbed out of a late model, black Dodge sedan.

When the porch light came on, Cammy instantly recognized the tall, shaven man with the narrow eyes and hard lines on his face. She quickly ascertained that Field Commander Thomas Everette of the State Police, a married man, was probably not here on police business.

"Everette just showed up. He may not be for long. I'm standing by but will proceed as planned. Repeat, proceed as planned."

"Copy that. Proceeding to rendezvous. Our objective, ETA, twenty minutes, over."

Cammy smiled to herself when she recalled watching scenes of Everette and the Lieutenant, both wearing nothing but their police caps, pleasuring each other with their mouths on her bed. It turned out that en-route to sleeping her way up the ranks, the hot police lieutenant kept explicit video evidence of her affairs, "just in case" things went sour.

Unfortunately for the Lieutenant, the scheme backfired on the twenty-six-year-old when her videos were discovered and seized by the Cobra Crew during the Escobar raid. The trio thoroughly enjoyed every minute of the nine videos featuring "Lieutenant Slut" and her lovers.

As Cammy suspected, Samantha appeared in the doorway briefly, wrapped up in a thin, silvery-grey robe. She giggled as the Field Commander whispered something to her. He glanced back at the empty street, before closing the door behind them.

Fascinated by the unexpected drop-in, Cammy scooted over to the nearest window and continued her observation of the couple. They were only steps into the house before the Commander cornered his petite subordinate to the wall. He looked imposing, dressed in full State Police uniform, with its dominating charcoal grey & black stripes shirt and pants. The Lieutenant seemed taken back by his aggression, but gave in to his advances, and the two locked lips in a fiery display of raw passion.

With little pretense, the hurried kisses quickly escalated into a tongue dual. Cammy looked around and realized she was in the perfect spot for an impromptu voyeur: a row of mature trees stood tall behind her, giving the house occupants full privacy from the neighbours. It was likely the reason Samantha didn't bother to close her curtains.