Cobra Crew: Freeing Escobar Ch. 02

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."

"My, my, what energy from this lovely young lady." The man known as Hector 'Gunrunner' Escobar replied, maintaining his humour. He had long lost count of the number of times he had faced a loaded weapon -- though never from one so young and provocative. "Pardon my manners. Please understand that I have been in federal custody for the last three months. Aside from that fetching A.T.F. agent, I have not laid eyes on such beauty..."

"You two get better acquainted, but Vixen, please try not to kill Mr. Escobar."

"For you, boss, I'll try." She answered sweetly, and lowered her weapon.

"So-- what is the word-- spunky. You are a lovely specimen, Miss Vixen."

Cammy made her way through the debris and opened the driver's door. The Marshal's deputy was still breathing, but the forehead-shaped cracks on the windshield accounted the reason he was out cold. She discovered a set of keys clipped to his belt, and grabbed his unused firearm before trekking back.

"Thank you, Miss Cobra." The former prisoner said, rubbing his wrists as Cammy freed him from the metal restraints. "Tell me, are the two Federales in good health? There was much gunfire."

"The ATF agent is in better shape than the Marshal. You had mentioned a few things about her in our correspondence. What else can you tell me?"

"Special Agent Jessica Colleen Koch? She is very attractive in her fetching blouses. Respectful, intelligent, unlike most other Federales. I believe she is nearly thirty-years-old. Before she was assigned to my case, she worked in Bank Robbery and liaison with the FBI. But, I am certain you were able to access her professional records." Escobar allowed.

"She has an impressive resumé." Cammy nodded.

"But the records will fail to inform you that Miss Koch has an ailing mother who requires heavy medical care. Your American medical system is worse than a cartel -- I suspect Miss Koch is in severe debt. You may want to explore that further."

The brunette's mind revved up at the new information. She nodded thoughtfully, and signaled to Valerie, who understood her boss wanted more data on the ATF agent. The young assailant left for her laptop in their van.

"Thank you for the information. Let us proceed, Mr. Escobar." The crew leader extended her hand, and the arms-dealer gladly took it as the pair climbed out of the prisoner van. Agent Jessica Koch was still kneeling on the pavement, as the silent enforcer towered over her.

"Romeo, meet Special Agent Jessica Koch of the ATF. Agent, don't fucking move."

The blonde swallowed while Cammy came behind her and patted her down aggressively, giving her jutting breasts a good squeeze. Aside from pocketing her cell phone, the lead assailant took her ATF identifications -- and of course, her handcuffs.

"Off with the jacket. Now, bitch!"

The agent scowled but complied. With a chuckle, Cammy twisted her arms behind her back and snapped both cuffs hard on to her wrists. She also showed her dominance by slapping the federal agent several times. As she squealed in pain, Cammy pulled her up by her blouse.

"Agent, you are coming with us. We are going to get to know you very well--" Without warning, Cammy ripped open the woman's blouse, sending buttons flying in all directions. The agent only wore a white cotton bra underneath, and all eyes were glued to the tops of her heaving tits.

"Cute." Cammy snarled, taking a breast in each hand and kneaded them like dough. "Nice and firm, agent."

"My, Agent Koch, you have been hiding these tetas all this time?" The arms-dealer voiced, sounding incredulous. Cammy noticed his pace of breathing quickening.

"Damn you, Escobar." Though her face flushed with shame and anger, the exposed agent was still able to stare straight into his eyes. "You are a marked man. We will track you down."

"Perhaps one day... but not before Escobar gives you the fucking he promised." He hissed, taking strides toward the agent. But Cammy quickly rose to stand in his way, and her hand slipped down to her holstered semi-automatic.

"Miss Cobra, I must insist." He paused, lowering his voice. "The Federales have made my life very difficult. Do not deny me the simple pleasure of..."

"The agent is our prisoner, Mr. Escobar." Cammy snapped with finality in her voice. "Romeo, take her to the van, and bring Cortez here. We'll spread out the hostages."

Ryan grabbed the anxious ATF agent by the shoulder and marched her to the van. With the muzzle of the MP5 pressed against her neck and Ryan's overwhelming size, Jessica knew her options were limited.

"Mr. Escobar, please give me a hand." The Cobra Crew leader waved at the Chevrolet Tahoe, which was outfitted with a tow hitch. "We need to get this van out of sight. Vixen, get as much of this off the road as you can." She said, nodding in the direction of all the glass, metal, rubber parts and shell casings scattered on the ground.

"You got it, Cobra."

The arms-dealer grunted his displeasure before joining Cammy. In minutes, the road was cleared again, as they towed the severely damaged transport van into the woods. With liberal use of duct tape, Cammy and Escobar bound the still-unconscious Marshal's deputy to his seat, and his hands and feet similarly taped up. They confiscated his other equipment and badge, and destroyed the remaining communication equipment.

"Miss Cobra, why do you allow him to live? You are not concerned that he will wake and sound the alarm?"

"WHEN he comes to, he is not getting out of these by himself. Once we leave here, it will be pitch black here and no one will see him from the road. Trust me, Mr. Escobar, the last pair of deposit truck guards we dealt with, they were found exactly the way left them, hours later."

"Say no more, my lovely Miss Cobra." He interjected with a raised palm. "I have complete respect for the ability of you and your crew. That is the reason I employed your services. However," Escobar paused, choosing his words thoughtfully. "I must again... insist on Agent Koch. It is no small feat to have an American Federale and I simply cannot let this opportunity... slip by."

"Mr. Escobar, Agent Koch is not part of our deal."

"Miss Cobra, I recognize I am in an inferior negotiation position, since my desire for the agent is great. May I interest you to change our deal to include the agent? For fifty more?"

The army veteran liked where this was heading, since it never hurt to take an extra fifty thousand dollars. It was time to negotiate. "Mr. Escobar, you just gave me information on the agent--"

"-- which also has great value..."

"-- to which I agree, there is potential for further exploitation. But if you have your way with her..."

"Miss Cobra, you need not be concerned over the health of Miss Koch. I intend her no... permanent harm." He said with a smile.

"Mr. Escobar, let's not kid ourselves. I know your reputation of playing rough in bed, and you sure as hell won't be gentle with her. You would take Miss Vixen if you had half a chance."

The Mexican brushed off the charge. "Nothing that the sluts do not ultimately enjoy. But yes, no permanent harm. Do we have a deal?"

"My response is: one hundred. With that, you get full access to the agent post-arrival at East Hudson, and access now to Deputy Sofia Cortez."

"I beg your pardon? Who is this Cortez?" Escobar frowned.

"Mr. Escobar, with all due respect, where do you think we got the police vehicle? The uniforms?" The arms-dealer was silent -- and intrigued. "Here, this will help." She took out her smartphone, browsed to the image of the young deputy about to step out of her uniform pants and showed it to him.

"From what Vixen told me, Deputy Sofia Cortez is quite good with her tongue. I'm not sure how well she performs with a... macho hombre like yourself."

"My, my. She is policía?" The mental imagery painted for the arms-dealer was an unrivaled success. "Miss Cobra, this is far above my dreams, to taste two American policía. For that, I will give you one-twenty-five. Koch later, Cortez now. We have a deal."

"That's very generous of you, Mr. Escobar, but remember, no permanent damage to the two cops. Deal?" He nodded, and the two criminals shook hands. To her headset, Cammy said, "Vixen, you will be driving the Tahoe with Mr. Escobar and Deputy Cortez in the back. Can you... prep the deputy for Mr. Escobar?"

"Understood, Cobra."

"Shall we, Mr. Escobar? We are more than three hours away from East Hudson."

"You are estupendo, Miss Cobra."

"Gracias, Señor Escobar."

***

Given her current predicament, the stop to pick up coffee hours ago felt more like a dream for Deputy Sofia Cortez. The twenty-two-year-old sat in the backseat of her own police Tahoe SUV, covered only in her sports bra and panties. The young Latino was still blindfolded, bound with her own handcuffs and gagged with one of her attacker's panties. There was also the buzzing vibrator still nestled in her pussy.

At the moment, Sofia could feel the young woman 'Vixen' busy around her. A weird, weighty bar was being affixed to both her ankles.

"There we go, cop bitch. Ya miss me?" Sofia slowly understood the purpose of the spreader bar when 'Vixen' snuggled up to her, easily tugging aside her panties' crotch piece, and fondled her puffy, sensitive pussy without restrictions. The young deputy shrieked into her gag when her assailant wriggled two fingers into her cunt and pulled out the busy vibrator.

"You filthy slut," Her assailant exclaimed, smearing Sofia's own thick fluids all over her face. "You're all ready for a good fuck, aren't you?" Those fingers returned, making perverse squishing noises as they penetrated her repeatedly. "Aren't you, you filthy little police slut?"

Sofia could only moan in frustration.

"Well, it's your lucky day, little bitch." 'Vixen' laughed, playing with her victim's tits through her bra. Sofia dreaded what was ahead when the police cap was placed back on her head.