The Assassin
Arriving at the hotel, we showered and slipped into bed. An assassination was a downer. We didn't feel like sex. But, we did feel like being close. We cuddled for about 30 minutes before Tony fell asleep in my arms. A few minutes later, I pulled slightly away from him and fell asleep too.
In the morning, we'd make up for it.
Chapter 2
I awakened slowly. My dick was hard. Nothing was unusual about that. Tony was giving me a blowjob. Also, not unusual. His ass was nearly resting on my face. Again, not unusual. So, was there something unusual about this morning? Just the fact that I hadn't awakened because I thought it was all a dream. And the only reason I woke up was because I was about to nut! "Look out!" I warned. "Spray time!" I needn't have warned him. He's been a cum pig since I could nut juice. Well, okay, so was I. I suppose I warned him just so he'd know his "reward" was on the way. My back arched and my hips thrust up, sliding a couple inches of jerking dick down Tony's throat. I wish I could deep-throat I thought as my dick fired and my nuts emptied. Three more fusillades of cream jetted into his mouth before the blasts turned more benignly into dribbles.
With a smile and wet plop, Tony released my slowly shrinking dick and pushed my legs into my chest. "Showtime!" he giggled and eagerly ate my ass out. I cooed like a dove, enjoying the pleasures that his talented tongue lavished on my asshole. I knew where this was headed and helped it along by helping him spread my ass with my hands even more than he had.
With a little help from the lube on the nightstand, Tony speared my black ass and sunk easily into my depths. His thick, Italian monster always felt bigger than the last time, but I always wanted more of it. Barebacking with the love of my life seemed to make us closer, sharing the most intimate and most trusting of acts that two men can do.
He stared down at me smiling, making his hard dick jerk inside me. I loved feeling his monster inside me and how deeply it would go. The only thing better was feeling it swell and begin to flood my eager ass with his male nectar. Tony leaned in and kissed me softly as his hips began their familiar tempo. His kisses tasted vaguely of my ass and I didn't mind at all. He ground in the root of his manhood every three thrusts, letting me know how good it felt to be inside me and how much I needed him to fuck me hard.
Not one to delay his climax, Tony pumped faster and faster. With his stamina, he could fuck me three times in a row with no more than 10 minutes separating each fuck and nut heavily each time before he took a real break. Many times, we'd fuck each other repeatedly, filling each other up with dick gravy until we felt we'd burst. A mad dash to the bathroom resolved the problem, unless we were feeling particularly piggy. Then, it would be a mutual felching until both of us were pigged out.
His climax built and I encouraged him by squeezing my ass muscles each time he pushed hard into me and playing with his tight, full nuts with my free hand. My other hand was fingering his asshole, working deeper and deeper until I found his prostate. That always made him slam hard into me and begin to spray-paint my ass walls with his baby-making juices.
No matter how often we did this, I never tired of it. I could take his dick and cum up my ass every hour, if my ass didn't get sore from the repeated friction. Well, there was another reason. Tony loved to get fucked about as much as I did, so I had to flip him to keep us both happy.
With a muffled roar (we were kissing ardently), he pounded into me and cut loose with creamy sprays of his man juices deeply into me. Like me, he nutted hard and shot cum as high as his head, if he weren't buried deeply in my ass. I did love the feel of his warm cream filling me up as his hard, pulsating dick jerked and sprayed.
Panting hard, we continued kissing, then laughing. Sex always made us laugh for some reason. Perhaps, it was how out of control we became during the sex act and it embarrassed us slightly. Whatever the reason, we didn't mind at all.
As he pulled his cum-soaked dick from my ass, he turned around. I was about to suck his creamy dick into my mouth as his lips closed over my asshole. But, the phone rang.
"I hope I haven't caught you at a bad time," the voice on the other end said.
I quickly covered the mouthpiece to stifle the laughter that burst from my lips. I repeated what I'd heard and Tony laughed as much as I had. "Just the usual bad timing," I replied.
"Oh, uh, sorry," the long-distance voice apologized, "but, we do have a line on your last target's boss. We think it's time to remove him, too." Leaving names out of our conversations was always warranted, even though our cell phones were supposedly secure.
"Where is he?" I wondered.
"He was in Saudi Arabia, but now we think he's in Tunis, in Tunisia."
"I know where Tunis is," I sighed. "How sure are you about his location? The last time you guys sent us there, we flushed our man out and on to a ferry for Genoa, no thanks to your brilliant planning."
"But, you successfully completed that mission," our boss said.
"We couldn't trust the poor intelligence assets you had at the time."
"That was before my time," he reminded me. Our new commander had been on the job only two years. "It'll be different this time."
"Let me tell you a little story," I bristled.
"It was nearly 10 years ago. Your predecessor said, 'We have two men who can assist you; but one will be your driver and the other will help you get him out of the country.'"
"And just how would we do that?" I asked.
"The details are being delivered by courier to your hotel later this morning," he said.
"The usual fee and expenses I presume?" I inquired.
"Yes, and approved from the top," the four-star general assured me. "That's part of what you'll receive from the courier. Half of your fee is already in your bank and the receipt is in the courier's packet."
"How you want this guy to disappear?" I wondered.
"Surprise me."
"Yes, Sir."
"If the details are unclear or incomplete, contact me in the usual manner," the general concluded.
After hanging up, I looked over at my lover. "We're on, again," I said. "A bad boy has been located and we're to delete him from the gene pool."
Tony laughed. "Termination with extreme prejudice is the cleaned up, politically correct version," he corrected. "Details to follow?"
I nodded. "Courier from the Embassy will be stopping by later this morning with the details," I enlightened him. "Do we have time for me to fuck your Italian brains out?" I grinned evilly. (I left the sex part out of my story to the General, but I thought you might enjoy it!)
"We always have time for that!" Tony replied and shoved his ass in my face. "Eat it and fuck it good!" he directed.
Of course, I did just that. I made him beg for my black dick. "You're taking too long eating my Italian ass," he'd said. "I need dick!" From our doggy-style position, I got my tongue way up his ass, tasting previous loads. We moaned in unison as the waves of pleasure worked us over. I prolonged the "agony", so he'd enjoy it even more when I finally mounted and seeded his eager ass. The more I ate his ass the more he wanted me to fuck him. But, his hands on the back of my head also encouraged me to continue drilling my tongue deeply up his butt.
Eventually, I did slide my hard dick up his spectacular, muscular butt and nutted less than a minute later. I was as eager to seed as he was for my dick and his asshole to get well acquainted again. Tightly seated in his ass, my hips continued a leisurely fuck. But, I slipped out a minute later and lay next to him. We napped another half hour before we arose for good and showered.
We had a good English breakfast in the hotel's dining room. The courier found us there as we finished our second mimosas. Signing for it, the courier departed. Tony beckoned our waiter over, signed for our breakfasts, and we retired to our room to review the general's plan to assassinate our new target.
The basic premise was a good one, but the details were sketchy. I'm sure he did that on purpose, knowing that we would think of a better way of accomplishing our task than his staff of "creative thinkers" at the Pentagon. The boys at the Puzzle Palace weren't infallible, but they were clever.
"I like the general idea, but I'm a little baffled at the exit strategy," Tony mused, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "It seems slapdash, relying on a lot of luck."
I agreed with him. "Let's change the way out, then," I suggested. "I don't trust the Embassy to have vetted our Tunisian 'helpers'. Instead of taking the plane out, how about taking the ferry to Palermo?"
Tony checked availability on the laptop. "It takes nine hours to get from Tunis to Palermo, and that's the closest destination."
"Scratch that," I sighed. "We're too exposed for too long."
"Scheduled airline is too obvious, unless we're very good and no one puts out the alert," Tony proposed.
"Again, too risky."
"Face it, Bruh, we don't have much of a choice," Tony mused. "We could charter our own boat," he offered.
"Again, too risky and we'd be too exposed for too long. Sicily is just too far away by boat."
"We'll just tell our handlers that we've made other arrangement, then?"
"They'd be watching all the airports, car rental agencies, taxis, and so on. It'd be a real plum to catch us."
"Okay, so we hit the target early, catch a commercial flight out before our charter flight is supposed to meet us, and disappear," Tony proposed. "They'd not know until we didn't show up."
"I like it!" I grinned. "So, how we gonna terminate this guy?"
"Well, the brains at Langley and the Puzzle Palace think we could take him out with a long-range rifle shot," Tony began. I frowned and shook my head. "Or, we could do a traffic stop?"
"Okay," I paused for a moment seeing the gleam in his eyes. "You have something in mind?"
"A variation on what our keepers suggested," he said. "We can get the uniforms easily enough, but the police car would be more difficult."
"And we gotta get him out of his rat hole on to the highway."
"That'll be easy," Tony smiled. "We just let the Embassy put the word out that we know where he is and we're coming for him. He'll skedaddle immediately."
"And the police car?" I pressed.
"We can steal one. They aren't that hard to boost."
"You have larceny in your heart," I laughed. "When you wanna do this?"
"We know where he is," Tony said pointing to one of the pages of our instructions. "We'll call the Embassy and tell them to get the word out about us coming to kill him. I'll ask the General to task one of his satellites to watch the compound our bad boy's in. When they spot the activity, the General will alert us and we'll do our magic. None of this goes through the Embassy beyond the need for uniforms."
I called the Embassy and left a coded message with the "agricultural attaché". I requested Tunisian police uniforms in our sizes, too. There was no point in being seen purchasing them. Passports with appropriate pictures were already concealed in compartments of our luggage. I also mentioned to our Embassy contact that not a word of this should be divulged to anyone. But, if our "contacts" should ask, we'll contact them in three days to set it all up. We expect to walk right up to his compound in our police uniforms and ask to speak with him. If we're challenged, we'll tell him that we know he's being targeted by foreign operatives and we will escort him to a destination of his choice within the country to thwart such attempts on his life. That part the attaché was cleared to tell our contacts, but only in the strictest confidence. Of course, our real plans were far different.
With our plan reasonably solid, we took a taxi to the American Embassy in London. Showing our identifications and passports to the Marine guard, we were directed to the secure communications room. Tony called the General with our plan.
After listening thoughtfully, the General said it was still too risky. "The road between where he's hiding and the airport is too well travelled. Anything could go wrong with all the eyes on that highway. We know he won't be taking a plane out as he's deathly afraid of flying. Our best guess is that he'll take the ferry from Tunis to Palermo or some other port in Italy. I think I should time the release of our 'leak' to coincide with the departure of the Tunis to Genoa ferry. That crossing takes 23 hours, so you'll have plenty of time to dispose of him and his 'friends', if any."
"We could be ticket or passport inspectors," I suggested. "That would get him to open the cabin door."
"The incapacitating spray is available at the Embassy in London," the General went on. "I'll have them get some uniforms for you in your sizes. Let's see, Tony, you speak Italian, French, and passable Arabic, so they'll open the door."
"How will we know him?" I asked.
"I'm sending pictures now of him and at least three of his known associates who travel with him," the General revealed. "I doubt any of them would wear disguises. But, Tony is good at disguises, as well as seeing through them in others." I nodded and smiled at my friend. "Anything else?"
"How are we getting there? Is there a need for us to disguise ourselves?" I wondered.
"To be safe, yes. Pick one of your passports that doesn't look like you very much," he said. "We're sending you from Heathrow through Charles de Gaulle to Tunis. Total time is a little over four hours."
"What days do the ferries run?" Tony asked.
"There are five runs to Italy. If he had a choice, I think he'd want the Genoa ferry. It gets him closer to Paris, which is his best place to disappear in Europe. The other ports would get him away from Tunis faster, but the drive up the boot of Italy would take forever and expose him to much more danger from potential assassins. If we leak the danger to him on Wednesday, he'll have only Salerno and Genoa as routes on Thursday's ferries. There are no Wednesday ferries," the General indicated with a pause. "However, he may choose to go to Rome, so that would be the Salerno route. Keep your eyes on both departures. The ferry to Genoa leaves at 2200 hours. The ferry to Salerno leaves two hours earlier."
"Will he be a walk-on or driving?" I asked.
"Could be either one," the General replied. "But, I'm guessing that he'll walk on. Someone would meet him at the terminal in Genoa and drive him away. If he takes a car on to the ferry, he won't be met. But, I don't think he has a car worth taking to Paris with him from Tunis."
"Either way," Tony postulated, "he won't be leaving the ferry as he planned. We'll take his car if he drives on. If not, we walk off like everyone else."
Wednesday, we took one battered suitcase each to Heathrow. My disguise was a large, black moustache and trim beard, and brown contacts instead of my blue eyes. Tony reprised his elderly Arab disguise again. The connection at Charles de Gaulle was tight, but we made it with 20 minutes to spare. Both flights were uneventful.
When we arrived at the Tunis-Carthage International Airport, we took a taxi to our hotel (the guide book said it was a five star hotel, but was more likely a three star). After the five mile trip, we went to our room and called the General.
"Any news on our friend?" I asked.
"Activity has picked up in the last hour. I think he'll be leaving tomorrow," the General revealed. "Any problems?"
"Nope."
"Call when you finish," the General said cryptically. "I'll text you when he leaves," he added, then hung up.
"We have until tomorrow," I said turning to Tony. "Activity is already ramping up at the compound where our friend is staying. The General will text us when the target departs. That will probably tell us which ferry he's taking."
Tony nodded. "So, let's do dinner then and get a good night's sleep," he winked. I knew full well that meant a major part of the early evening would be spent swapping sperm loads. I smiled back at him and grabbed my crotch. "Tease," he smirked.
"I'm not teasing," I countered. "You'll slosh when you finally roll away from me tonight."
"That had better be a promise and not a threat!" he laughed.
After dinner, we reviewed again how we'd take down our man and any others who were in his employ. "My only concern is dumping the bodies afterwards. We can't be seen by anyone. How do we get them from the cabin to the railing without being seen?"
"We simply tell any interested parties that our seasick 'friends' have very delicate stomachs and need some fresh air. After all, we will be dragging them," I reminded him.
"Taking them one at a time increases our exposure," Tony reminded me.
"Both go at the same time, then," I said. "If there are more, we'll have to take more trips. It can't be avoided." Left unsaid was that we'd have to time the security and safety staff who periodically check all hallways and decks. That would greatly reduce being seen.
After another three hours of very satisfying sex, we slept like the dead. I'd left the cell phone on in case our target departed early and holed up somewhere else. But, we weren't interrupted.
When we finally got out of bed, there was no text message, either. I sent a text message to the General. It read "Ready". There was no acknowledgement. We ate breakfast and lunch at the hotel. Tony checked us out at noon and we headed to the waterfront. We walked into a restaurant and went into the men's room. Quickly we checked our disguises for faults. Seeing none, we wandered the streets of Tunis for the next few hours, browsing the shops, but purchasing two worn suitcases (in case we had purloined materials to take with us from our target).
By 8 p.m., we'd returned to the waterfront and dined. But, I was getting nervous. Had we missed him? Obviously, he wasn't going to be on the Salerno ferry. He was too late for that. At 8:45 p.m., we got a text message. "Departing with four vehicles. Good luck."
This was going to be a problem. If he boarded with an entourage of four vehicles with full passenger loads, we'd be overwhelmed about eight to one. This was not good.
We left the restaurant and walked (in Tony's case, hobbled) to the ferry terminal. I purchased our tickets and waited. At 9:30, the bad guys arrived. They weren't hard to spot. They were burly, eyes scanning for potential trouble, and protective of their leader-our target.
However, only one of the vehicles drove on to the ferry, but four men got out of the car. Our target was one of them. Still, we had to deal with four men.
The ferry left on time at 10 p.m. We hung around while keys were handed to two of the men- two cabins. That would make our job a little easier. I had made sure that I stuck close to the group, hoping to hear the steward say aloud which cabins they were in. We were only three cabins away. Tony watched closely to see which one our target was in. He was in 142 and two of his henchmen were in 144. We were in 150.
We changed quickly into our uniforms. As we didn't want to awaken them, we had to hit them by 10:30. We quickly agreed that the back-ups in 144 would go first. We didn't need additional trouble when we went after our target.
"Passports, please," Tony said in French rapping on the door. Someone inside said something I didn't catch, but Tony did. He switched to Arabic and repeated his phrase. I heard a disgruntled sigh from the other side of the door. The cabin door swung open. Tony smiled and I hit the guy with a burst of the disabling spray. He cried out softly, raised a hand weakly to his face and collapsed on to the floor. Tony leaped into the room and sprayed into submission the other goon. Both of us had quickly raised handkerchiefs to our faces to avoid any lingering spray.
"Out for the count," I smiled. Pulling a syringe from an inside pocket, I injected both men in the butt with another knock-out potion. They'd be out for at least eight hours, possibly more. And by then, they'd be dead from drowning.
"And now, for our encore!" Tony smirked and headed next door. I'd retrieved the key to 144 and pocketed it. We still had to permanently dispose of them.
Stealthily, we went to the adjoining cabin and knocked politely. Once more Tony went through his routine in French. There was a groan from inside the cabin and the shuffling of feet. They must have gone to bed already. The bodyguard opened the door and got a face full of spray. Our target bolted for the tiny bathroom, but I grabbed him by the arm and Tony subdued him with a right cross. Again, we injected our quarries.
"What time you have in mind for the deed?" Tony asked as we exited 142 with the key.
"I'm thinking around three or four in the morning, but we need to time the rounds of the security guards to be sure," I replied.
Back in our cabin, we quietly listened for the guards. They made rounds every half hour on the half hour. Predictable as they could be.
"The target goes first. If we should be seen or caught, we must be sure that he's gone," Tony intimated. "Also, we need the keys to the car and must take with us any evidence or plans that may be written down."
"And in case someone is meeting them in Genoa, we need to vaguely look like them and have two more profiles sitting in the back," I added.
"We can stuff a couple of Arabic robes and put them in the back seat," Tony suggested.
"How do we get them there?"
"The rounds are regular. We take them when the guards are on other parts of the ferry, but we can't leave them sitting in the car overnight. That's not allowed," he cautioned.
"So, we take them down early and sit them up just before we leave."
I frowned. "As if we won't be seen doing that?"
"I'll drive and sit one of the dummies beside me. You sit in the back and upright the other one as you get in. They'll stay upright with seatbelts," he smiled at his brilliance.
I paused a moment. I sure couldn't think of a better idea. After we got away from the Genoese dock, we'd watch for a tail, and then ditch the car at the airport and head home. "We should wear gloves," I warned.
"We already are," he pointed out.
"They'll look ridiculous when we go to the car. It's too warm."
"Okay, just open the car door with your sleeve or a handkerchief. We'll put on rubber gloves when we get into the car. No one will notice then."
I sighed. "Just remember to keep your hands low. If someone is watching for the car, they'll see your hands at the top of the steering wheel."
Tony nodded absently. "You wanna get some sleep before we do this?"
"Yeah," I replied. "We should be in their cabins right after the guards go by at 3 a.m. and conduct our searches. After the 3:30 check, we'll start dumping bodies over the side."
With agreement, we turned in. Both of us had developed the skill to wake ourselves up at the correct time within about ten minutes of our targeted time. I woke up shortly before three. I lay quietly, waiting for the guard to shuffle by. When he did, Tony stirred. We quickly donned a variation of our disguises and went to cabin 142. Our bad boys were still unconscious. We emptied their pockets and stripped them of any jewelry, including watches. I took our target and Tony wrestled into an upright position the bodyguard. At 3:30, the guard shuffled by again.
Quietly, I opened the cabin door and peered outside at 3:35. Nothing was stirring. I threw his arm over my shoulder and wrapped an arm around his waist. As I was taller, it wasn't hard to make it look like he was staggering. I opened the outside door and looked around. Again, no one was in sight. We sat our "baggage" on a bench and checked around, including the decks above us. All quiet.
We tugged our "guests" to the railing and leaned them over it. To anyone looking, they looked like they were seasick. The Mediterranean wasn't smooth, but it certainly wasn't rough. However, not everyone has cast iron stomachs.
Over the side they went. There wasn't even a splash as they hit the waves and went under. We watched the wake of the ferry, but saw nothing but sea foam in the moonlight.
"Two down, two to go," I smiled.
The next two weren't as easy to get to the railing. Both were taller and heavier. My false beard had come loose, but not too much. Still, it wouldn't do to meet up with others right now. We pushed both of them over the railing, but the belt buckle on one of them caught on the top rail and caused the man to hit his head on the side of the ferry before he hit the surface of the Mediterranean. We looked over the side and saw a blood smear.
"Damn!" Tony spat. "How we gonna clean that off?"
I looked again. The sea spray was washing it off, slowly, as the ferry plowed through growing seas. "By the time we get to Genoa, all trace of that mishap will be gone," I said, and pointed back to the incriminating streak.
Tony looked again and smiled. "A good ending," he smiled.
Once more, we checked the wake of the ferry. In the moonlight, the white, sea foam remained unbroken by bobbing bodies.
"Time to clean out their cabins," I reminded him. We took the small travelling cases and any personal items from our targets from both cabins and returned to cabin 150.
"They won't need this," Tony smiled as he relieved all the wallets of cash. "All other papers and credit cards go in this travel case," he indicated, pointing to the worst looking one. "The clothes can go in the dumpster, except for what we need to make our dummies."
At 5 a.m., we were finished and had crawled into bed again.
After breakfast, we walked around the ferry with the rest of passengers to pass the time. Several had gone to their cars to stash their suitcases. We did the same, taking the time to lay our dummies in the front and back seats, too.
Despite the rough seas last night, the Mediterranean was calm all day long. We checked over the side again to be sure that the blood smear was gone. There was no evidence of anything untoward.
We turned in the keys to all cabins at 8 p.m. I had waited until there was a rush at the steward's office to return keys and tossed mine into the box along with the others. No one seemed to notice.
The ferry docked 15 minutes early. In order, we drove off the ferry. We didn't notice anyone interested in our car or our passengers. Tony took a circuitous route through the old city, and then headed for the Genoa airport parking lot. We tossed into the trunk the disguises, dummies, and extra overnight cases. Tony added the car keys to the clutter in the trunk before he closed it.
I kept my brown contact lenses in and my moustache on. Tony lost a good 50 years in age after we'd visited the men's room at the airport.
At that hour, there were no flights to London, so we took a taxi to a nearby hotel and spent the night. The following morning, we returned to London. At the American Embassy, we filed a report in the secure communications room. An hour later, he sent us a text message. "Excellent job. Funds wired."
"That was 10 years ago," I sighed, "and I still don't like Tunis."
"This will be different," the new general assured us. "We have better people and more satellite coverage for that part of the world. And I'm personally making sure this happens the way it's supposed to."
"Yeah, sure," I breathed hotly. "Who is the target this time?"
"Arms merchant and drug smuggler, very nasty," the General revealed.
"You sure he's in Tunis?"
"Just outside in a secure compound."
"Sounds like the same place our last target in Tunisia was," I observed.
I heard a rustling of paper and a brief background conversation. "Uh, yeah, it is. Maybe we need to do a little more work on the guy who owns that place, too. You could do us a favor and take them both out."
"We're not an army, General. That place is well guarded and patrolled. Besides, I'll wager that the owner isn't there. He's not stupid enough to be around when some of his 'friends' are in residence. He could get caught in the crossfire," I stated.
"You're probably right. Still, I'll follow up on this guy and see what he's up to."
"When do you want us to leave?"
"I'll call you when we have more definitive information. Check in with me daily, 0800 hours your time."
We waited a week before the General told us the mission was scrubbed. Our target had never been in Tunisia, but he had been spotted in Paris only yesterday.
"Take the Chunnel, drive to Paris and await further instructions," the General tersely directed. "Stay where you can be easily reached by Embassy staff."
"The usual fee and expenses?" I asked.
"Deposited in the agreed manner," the General responded. "Collateral damage to any hangers-on will be additionally compensated as usual."
After I hung up, I turned to Tony and sighed, "We need to get out of this racket. We have enough money to retire on and live a life of ease. And the bad guys are getting nastier and more loaded with technology and guns than ever before. Plus, most of them are so fuckin' rich that they can afford an army of bodyguards."
"I've been thinking the same thing," Tony agreed. "Despite the flag waving, patriotic part of this, assassination as an occupation is wearing on me. The young should be doing this, not men nearly 40. I'd prefer to go out at the top, not in a casket."
"Should we call the General and tell him we quit?"
Can they quit? Do they know too much? They have documents with the President's signature authorizing assassinations. Will they be allowed to live if they quit?
More chapters to come!
This story is fiction and fantasy. Your life isn't. Always play safe.
Constructive comments to blackhunk33@yahoo.com