Cobra Crew: Preemptive Strike Ch. 04

"Oh, my name is... Vixen." Val raised the 9mm with both hands, and smiled with satisfaction when the Corporal's jaw dropped open.

"You ARE Cobra Crew..." Corporal Robin Bailey whispered, mostly to herself. Her right hand was in motion.

"Whoa, don't even THINK about it, bitch, unless you want a bullet in your fucking head!" The imposter policewoman's unwavering stance was enough to convince the real officer to freeze and leave her holstered gun where it was.

"You- this is not going to work." She breathed. "You're inside the most secured facility..."

"SHUT UP, cunt!" Val was not about to let the Trooper start yapping. "Put your fuckin' hands on your head and walk towards me."

"DO IT NOW!"

Watching the young woman's finger wrap tightly around the trigger, Corporal Bailey was finally convinced and did as she was told.

Establishing control, Val backed up with caution towards the first high-security room. "COME ON, BITCH!" She waved her gun impatiently, keeping it trained on the policewoman. She was careful to maintain a good distance between them, giving little room for the wary cop to try anything.

"Come here!!" Pass cards in hand, she released the locks on the door and waited for the policewoman. "Keep facing me, and use your left hand to open the door. GO!!" She ordered, stealing a quick glance toward the shelves, hoping Cammy was not found yet.

Corporal Robin Bailey gasped aloud when she opened the door. The sight of the near-naked clerk cuffed to the shelves greeted her, with the bound and unconscious guard nearby. The brief flicker of hope on Claire's face disappeared quickly when she saw her assailant trailing behind the uniformed Trooper.

"MMmmmpphh" Claire screamed into her gag, but to no avail - her warning came too late, as the butt of the handgun came down on the unsuspecting policewoman. The hard resin and stainless steel on the Smith & Wesson smashed into the back of Robin's neck, dropping the Corporal to the ground.

"Goddamn it..!" Val bemoaned but kept up with the task at hand. She dragged Robin to a sitting position by the shelves and pulled her limp arms behind her. "You, shut the FUCK UP!!" She hissed and raised her gun at Claire, appreciative of the clerk's own panties muffling her otherwise piercing screams. The threat was enough to quiet the young woman, allowing Val to concentrate on taking the unconscious cop's gun and lifting her handcuffs from the pouch.

"Stupid cop..." She mumbled, and snapped the steel restraint on her wrists, securing her to the shelves.

Val took out her pocketknife, causing Claire to scream again as she made a thrusting motion into Robin's stomach.

But there was no blood. Instead, Val was making short work of the Trooper's grey uniform top. Her knife quickly sliced off all the buttons and her shirt parted away. Val was temporarily mesmerized by the sight of Robin's slow-heaving breasts, enclosed in a turquoise, lightly padded bra. She licked her lips as she imagined the matching pair of panties underneath her uniform pants.

Alas, there was no time. As quickly as she could, Val used the pocketknife to make four cuts, two to the sides of the bra and two to both shoulder straps. With no resistance, Val peeled off the ruined bra, taking only a moment to squeeze her smallish breasts and tweak both of her lovely pink nubs. The assailant then stacked the bra cups together and cramped the cotton material into the Corporal's mouth.

It took some effort, but by the time the imposter policewoman slapped several layers of duct tape over her lips, Robin's cheeks were bulging, and the makeshift gag was staying put.

Just as Val rose from her task, she heard a series of crashes from deep in the Archives warehouse, although they were dampened by the sound of the continuous fans.

"Fuck!" She said in gritted teeth, tossing the Corporal's weapon into a corner, out of reach for the other captives in the room. Val then launched herself toward the noise, slamming the door shut behind her.

Once again, Claire Bernan was left in the dark, wondering who just joined her, and if she would ever get out of this.

***

An agitated Cammy turned BACK the way she came from, looking down at the timer on her phone - four minutes have now elapsed. She still had not located box ADL-8002, but the moment she did, she was more than ready to drop the final improvised explosive device into the evidence box.

When their ATF agent mole informed her of the encrypted USB sticks loaded with data leading to the Cobra Crew, Cammy knew they must be destroyed, before the FBI got their hands on them.

Since the Cobra Crew was going to infiltrate Division One, they might as well cause some mayhem, Cammy reasoned, and drain precious police resources. Even as she wandered through the Warehouse, the leader of the Cobra Crew was leaving a half-dozen IEDs behind - essentially blocks of military-grade C4, coupled with blasting caps and timers.

Nothing overly destructive, but the IEDs were designed to cause heavy damage in the vicinity of the blast. When the timers go off in twenty minutes, the expectation was the destruction or severe compromise of at least a hundred boxes of evidence stored throughout the Archives room.

She breathed a sigh of relief when she finally located the aisle - and the cardboard box labelled as "ADL-8002" sitting on the shelf. The faux redhead eagerly pulled the box out, glad she did not need a ladder to reach it. She opened the lid to find assorted items, presumably collected from Escobar's deceased lawyer.

But the USB sticks were her priority, and Cammy smiled when she patted through the nine clear bags, with a stick inside each one. Satisfied, she dropped a can of fire accelerant into the box, started the countdown on her last IED, and placed that into the box also.

Cammy was so focused on activating the timer, by the time she sensed movement, the figure was already nine feet away, closing in from the other end of the aisle. She looked up to see FBI Special Agent Natasha Cole coming at her - her service weapon raised and aimed at her.

"Do not move or I WILL shoot!" She called out in her English accent. Cammy considered her options, including ducking around the corner, but other cops could be swarming the warehouse by now, and Cammy could see the agent's finger wrapped around the trigger.

"I am Special Agent Natasha-"

"- Cole of the FBI. You're early this morning, Agent Cole."

"Your presence is making up for that unpleasant flight out of Dulles." The woman replied coolly, slowing her pace as she cautiously approached Cammy. "Raise your hands over your head."

Biding for time, Cammy did as she was told. "How did you know..."

"My team at Quantico were unanimous in agreement that you would infiltrate law enforcement buildings again. I knew you would be after the USB sticks." The FBI agent answered, a hint of pride seeping into her voice. "Now, where are your accomplices?"

"My team's busy too." Cammy kept her emotions in check, as the agent inadvertently gave hope that they had missed Val. "At the moment, they are keeping the REAL Corporal Melissa Holms company. Did your team not profile that?"

"You devil!!" The agent's eyes narrowed. "Where is she?"

A smile returned to Cammy's face, sensing a return of the upper hand. "Somewhere safe, of course. Corporal Holms is thoroughly enjoying the company of my crew - whether she likes it or not."

Cammy's grin widened, but the federal agent's disdain clearly grew colder.

"You are under arrest. For the sake of you and your accomplices, the Corporal best not be harmed-"

"Worry about yourself first, agent." Cammy snapped. "Because you'll be blown to bits when the IED goes off. Yeah, the one I placed just before you got here." The two adversaries stared daggers at each other.

"You are bluffing."

"Oh really, Agent Cole?" Cammy rolled her eyes with an exaggerated sigh. "Why do you think I am here then? What did your TEAM think we would do with the evidence? Keep it for old sakes?"

"Step back from the box," Natasha frowned. "very slowly."

"If I go, I wouldn't mind taking a cop cunt from Scotland Yard with me." Cammy did as she was told, but her leer reminded the FBI agent who held the cards.

Stoically, the female agent stepped toward the evidence box, which was still lying on the ground. Cammy held her ground a few steps away, her palms rested on her head, watching the woman closely.

As Natasha stepped closer, her face fell at seeing the soap bar-like C-4 in the box. The timer was faced the wrong way, however, so Agent Cole was unable to see the digits. She took another step forward, her eyes searching...

The brief moment of distraction was all Cammy needed to act. She stepped into a powerful roundhouse kick, and the front of her steel-toe boot caught the agent's outstretched hand, enough to send Natasha's Glock 26 flying into the shelves.

But the startled agent recovered very quickly, her other hand reacting to push at Cammy's swinging feet, throwing the natural brunette off-balance. With a grunt, the FBI agent rushed into the falling woman, body-checking her hard into the metal shelves. On contact, Cammy's bogus glasses and police cap popped loose.

Dazed with the federal agent pressed against her back, Cammy groped for her own holstered gun, but Natasha saw it at the last second. The Brit clutched Cammy's wrist and slammed it against the metal shelving, bruising her hand until the handgun dropped to the ground with a clunk. A swift strike with her foot sent the M&P 9mm over to the next aisle.

"Cunt!" Cammy thrashed about with her free hand, knocking evidence boxes off the shelves, several of which tumbled on to the FBI agent. Her last elbow connected with Natasha, knocking her back, but the federal agent continued to bash the imposter cop against the metal racks.

"Get off me-" Cammy pushed with both feet on the shelves, toppling the FBI agent and falling on the woman. The two adversaries struggled and rolled on the floor, tugging at each other's hair, even as their breasts pressed together. With a grunt, the natural brunette tossed her head aside, smashing into the agent's noggin.

Stunned, the agent managed to grab on to Cammy's uniform shirt, as she spun away from Natasha. The leader of the Cobra Crew got to her knees and yanked free, but the persistent agent dug into her uniform pants instead, and the grey pant legs tore when Cammy pulled her feet away.

Cammy grimaced at the sight of her bare calf peeking out of the torn pants, and retaliated by grabbing at the FBI agent's suit jacket. Natasha twisted aside, inadvertently giving Cammy a full grip of the Brit's full breast instead. With a leer, she latched on to the woman's blouse, ripping loose several buttons.

"You bloody dyke!!" Natasha cried, her voice shaking with genuine anger. Her plain white bra was in full view, and to Cammy's surprise, barely constraining her voluptuous buxom.

Pleasantly distracted by the federal agent's exposed form, Cammy yelped in pain when Natasha threw her knee violently into her ribs.

"FUCK YOU!!" Cammy howled, turning to grab Natasha's walnut brown hair and slap her hard at the same time. Enjoying the instant crimson mark on her fair skin, Cammy followed up with a vicious backhand to her face.

But Cammy neglected the federal agent's free arm, and paid for it when a clenched fist plowed into her lungs. "Oooff" She gasped and fell back, and Natasha's second punch landed squarely in her stomach. A third punch missed her cheeks, but a fourth struck her windpipes, dropping the faux redhead to the floor.

"You are under arrest- for aiding and abetting, the escape of Hector Escobar- from custody." Natasha breathed, seizing the wrists of a gasping Cammy and pulling them behind her back. "You have the right, to remain silent. Anything you say-"

Natasha had the handcuffs in her hand when a police baton smashed into the side of her skull.

The FBI agent exhaled as her head felt as if it was going to explode. She managed to turn around, just in time to see the newcomer, a petite figure in a State Police uniform. It was the Trooper at the desk-

NO, Natasha thought, as the young woman was already stepping into her swing.

"Night-night, bit-" was all Natasha heard before her world fade to black.

"And... three for three in knockouts today. Take that, bitch!" Val sneered at the limp federal agent, sprawled on the ground. Her celebratory mode was cut short when she saw Cammy, gasping for breath.

"Boss, are you okay?" A concerned Val knelt at Cammy's side, lifting her head gingerly.

The faux redhead gulped and nodded, struggling to get her voice back.

"Thanks- good- workff-" She gestured with a thumbs-up.

They both turned at a noise, but aside from the loud fans, there was no other activity in the warehouse. Cammy frowned and pointed to her ripped uniform pants.

"You know what, I know exactly where we can get a new pair." Val beamed, glad they had an excuse to stop by the secured evidence room one more time. Time to find out if Corporal Bailey is wearing those matching panties, she smiled to herself.

"Stay here boss, I'm gonna grab a dolly by the front so we can dump this bitch with the others."

To her surprise, Cammy raised her palm.

"Get- a cart. And an- empty- ship-ping crate." The natural brunette glared at the fallen FBI agent, and winked at her accomplice. Val returned the grin, knowing what this meant.

The Cobra Crew is getting a new toy.

***

About ten minutes later, State Police Field Commander Thomas Everette was tapping his foot impatiently, watching the floor indicators in the elevator change ever-so-slowly. At least he was finally reaching down to the parking levels.

He glanced down at his phone again. He saw the time, but did not see any new notifications. There was still plenty of time before his meeting with the arrogant FBI agent, he thought. Everette was still fuming at Agent Cole's blistering rebuke at the State Police for the Escobar escape, and that was BEFORE their I.T. team managed to ruin one of the USB keys.

At the moment, however, his mind was occupied with thoughts of the lovely Samantha. The Field Commander texted her two more times since he got into the office, but there was not a peep from the Lieutenant. She must be really pissed at him, he thought - more the reason he needed to visit and apologize. Maybe pick up some flowers on the way.

He belatedly deduced that handcuffing her and fucking her rough in her own home might not have been the brightest idea - even if it was pretty awesome.

Now it was time to pay the price.

The elevator doors finally opened to his floor. Everette bolted out the doors, rushing to his sedan. If he was not so engrossed in his thoughts, Everette might have paid more attention to the two female State Troopers in the same elevator, who stood behind him.

The pair who were wheeling a shipping crate with them.

Not that shipping crates being wheeled about in Division One was an uncommon sight. In fact, the detective who held the button to keep the elevator doors open certainly did not think much of it, as the two policewomen gingerly pushed the dolly out of the elevator car.

However, both the Field Commander and the detective would have acted very differently, had they the ability to see through the wooden panels of the crate.

Back in the Archives warehouse, Cammy and Val worked feverishly on Special Agent Natasha Cole to secure her for transport. The FBI lead investigator on their case just fell into their laps, and Cammy was not about to pass on the opportunity for some interrogation - and lots of payback.

The leader of the Cobra Crew tossed Natasha's blazer jacket aside, then used Natasha's own handcuffs to bind her wrists behind her. With high efficiency, Cammy proceeded to pull three zipties around her captive's arms and elbows. After stripping the unconscious woman of her flat leather shoes, more zipties went around her thighs, knees and ankles.

By the time Val returned with a cart and a waist-tall shipping crate - plastered with red "STATE POLICE EVIDENCE" tape on top of the wooden lid - Cammy had lifted the unmoving FBI agent to a sitting position with her knees up and pressed against her breasts. Together, they wrapped twines of grey rope around her backside to the back of her knees, with another coil circling around her thighs to her ankles.

Even if she came to during transport, Natasha was going nowhere.

Cammy was fretting the fact they did not bring a ball gag with them, until Val solved that dilemma. As the leader of the Cobra Crew was changing out of her torn uniform pants into the pair that belonged to Corporal Robin Bailey, Val pointed to Cammy's gray, translucent panties.

"We can use yours -" Then she pointed to Robin's turquoise, bikini-style panties. "and hers - to keep this FBI bitch nice and quiet."

"You -" Cammy leaned in for a quick but intimate kiss with her surprised accomplice. "- are plenty awesome, girl."

The faux brunette actually blushed a little, before getting the knife out to get Robin's panties.

The real brunette had to work to shove both pairs of balled-up panties into the FBI agent's mouth, but she sure enjoyed getting Natasha's tongue pressed against the crotch pieces. After wrapping duct tape around her head, they lowered the woman into the crate, locked down the lid, and wheeled her out. The pair barely received a second glance as they pushed the cart through the hallways of Division One, through to the elevator ride.

"Thank you, sir." The 'Cadet' nodded to the helpful detective, keeping her head down as she pushed the cart out the elevator.

"You sure you don't need a hand loading that into your ride? Looks heavy." The detective in the suit inquired again, chauvinism oozing in his voice.

"No, we're good, thank you, Detective Armstrong." The redhead with the three stripes on her shoulders replied, looking up with a seductive wink. "Looks big and heavy but there's hardly anything inside. You know how it is."

"Sure do." The man shrugged, completely missing the insult. As he walked away, he couldn't help but turn and stare at the Corporal's perfect, round ass. Damn, it barely fits into those tight uniform pants, he snickered to himself.

"Good day, Troopers."

"Same to you, Detective." The smile disappeared from Cammy's face almost instantly. "Damn, these pants are fucking tight." She thought. Taking Corporal Bailey's pants was infinitely better than walking around with the ripped pair, but that woman had to be at least a size smaller than Corporal Holms. Cammy tugged the shoulder straps of Agent Cole's heavy laptop bag and caught up to Val, who was pushing the crate at a brisk pace toward the authorized visitors' parking area.

"THAT was the fucking Field Commander in the elevator with us-" Cammy started.

"And the motherfucker didn't even look up once!" Val nodded, without breaking a stride. "He was in a real hurry tho."

"Only he's not supposed to go anywhere. His meeting with this cunt -" The brunette tapped on the wooden crate. "- is in an hour."

"He was checking his phone like mad. I betcha he hasn't heard from Lieutenant Slut since this morning..."

"And fuck, now he's heading over. Shit." Cammy groaned. "Can you reach your man?"

"No signal down here, boss." The gravity of the situation was now dawning on the pair. "I'll send it as soon as we are above ground."

The pair turned at the sound of tires screeching, and watched Everette's black Dodge sedan shot up the parking onramp.

"Fuck. It's gonna be close. He has to clean up and peel out of there - double time." Cammy mumbled, as they picked up their own pace. "He better be finished with them..."

"That's our ride, boss." Val pointed to a white Ford SUV up ahead. Its rear lights flashed in response when Cammy fingered the key fob in her palm. The women realized they had the perfect getaway vehicle when Cammy rummaged through the FBI agent's bag and saw her car rental papers.