Hunter Hunted Ch. 03

The 24^th of April is here again...if I had been more organised I would have had five new stories submitted for my fifth anniversary as a writer on Literotica.com!

Well, the dates might be off but at least you get the stories still. Enjoy!

–-

Hunter Hunted: Part III – Evolution

Thomas Murdoch – soldier, mercenary, warrior – ran through the dark streets, vaulting low barricades and dashing from shadow to shadow, trying to spend as little time out in the open as possible. His armour scraped against the walls as he cut corners everywhere, skimming so close to a fragmented concrete pillar that a piece of it broke off as he barged past.

Tom's boots pounded on the surface of the road as he ran flat out, leaping over a low wall and coming to a sudden stop, dropping to a crouch against the crumbling stone. A blur of grey flew overhead and didn't slow down, diving into the shadows within the upper level of a building, the glass of its windows long since removed.

Tom hit the mag release on his assault rifle, pulling a fresh clip from his belt and pushing it in. He held his hand over the charging handle but didn't pull it back; instead he paused, waiting, his ears tuning to the sound footsteps on rubble, the scrape of dirt on concrete, the echo of movement in empty buildings. He remained still, silent, barely breathing as he listened as hard as he could for his enemy.

Tom knew time was against him; he couldn't play the waiting game forever. He also knew that if he'd been spotted every second he spent waiting was a second the enemy had to take aim. If he hadn't been spotted yet then he needed to move as far away as possible before he was found. Tom knew all of this, and yet he waited, silently.

A sound like gravel shifting, coming from above him – dirt grinding beneath feet. Tom dove forward as the crack of rounds echoed through the air. He ducked into the ground floor of the building, out of sight from the shooter above him, and sprinted for the staircase leading up to the first floor at the end of the room. He mounted it, yanking back the charging handle on his rifle as he arrived on the landing. Tom glimpsed a blur of grey before snapping off two rounds at the stationary shooter, pelting up past the second floor and onto the third before he stopped to listen.

Tom looked around the third floor, spying a narrow skybridge connecting his building to the one next door. Just beyond that was his objective, so he knew the resistance would be high. Wary of snipers, he edged out slowly and made it across without taking fire. The floor layout was similar to the building he just left, but cluttered with long rows of old office dividers everywhere.

Before Tom could press forward he heard footsteps from this building's staircase and a small, rectangular object flew up the broken tiles leading down to the lower level.

Tom threw himself to the side back out onto the skybridge, shielding his eyes as the flashbang went off a few feet from him. His hearing didn't work, but he could see. A dark form leapt from the staircase, rushing his position, too fast and too low to be an enemy soldier. Tom stuck his gun out, firing several bursts one-handed against the form before it veered off, diving out of sight amongst the dividers. Tom clambered to his feet and let off several more bursts as he tracked the flurry of old documents and puffs of dust from between the office furniture, but hit nothing.

Keeping an eye out for the form in case it came back, Tom inched over to the staircase, quietly catching his breath as his hearing returned. Somehow he heard the scrape of an army boot but there was no visual sign of his enemy. Unsure if he should trust his hearing yet, he glanced along the wall, looking for anything that might help him get the advantage here.

Tom spied the elevator shaft that ran next to the stairwell, its doorway empty. The elevator had long since been removed, the shaft stripped of parts and left as empty and abandoned as the rest of this town. Looking at the shaft, Tom came up with a crazy idea, even though he couldn't say how he knew he was capable of pulling it off. He just knew he could.

Taking a grenade of his own from his jacket, Tom slung his assault rifle across his back, pulled the pin on the grenade and released the spoon, counting dangerously high before stepping into the staircase and letting it bounce down. At the same time he sprinted for the elevator shaft, hoping his judgement was right. The deafening sound of a flashbang and the associated cries of discomfort filled the stairwell as, with a spring in his step, Tom leapt through the elevator doorway, falling diagonally into the shaft and hitting the far wall.

With lightning reflexes, Tom immediately pushed off from the wall with a boot and a hand and dived through the second floor elevator doors below, landing on all fours and rolling forward as he drew his pistol in a crouched stance.

Four enemy soldiers, one still aiming at the staircase leading up to the third level but all of them disoriented by the flashbang, didn't even see him. Tom fired several rounds off and started running, hearing the familiar scrape of claws on concrete as a second blur, this one almost red, dashed from the corner of the building on an intercept course with him, leaping office dividers and filing cabinets.

Tom un-slung his assault rifle again and glanced to his right, judging the distance between the two buildings. A couple of metres below in the middle of the street a burned out tank sat with its front end in a ditch and the rear end standing up high, about in line with the first floor. Below that, on the ground floor of the building, the windows lining the wall were all boarded up, but some of them looked weak and rotted. Tom veered towards the row of windows on his level, aiming for one directly above the tank.

The blur chased him. It drew level and then took off ahead of him, intending to dart between the pillars to avoid his fire. Knowing he couldn't hit his target, he put in a burst of speed to beat it instead and raced at the window, once again relying on his light-footed prowess and blind luck. As he reached the window, the blur dived for him, intent on following him all the way.

Tom leapt from the window, arms outstretched, his momentum somehow propelling himself all the way to the rear of the tank in the middle of the road. His boot touched the fuel pod on the back and, pushing off, he flung himself forward once more, turning in mid-air and snapping off two shots at the blur flying from the window as it landed on the tank after him.

Tom tucked into a ball and crashed downwards through the thankfully rotted wooden plank across the window on the building's ground floor, landing in a heap on the concrete and rolling to a stop. He whipped his gun around and aimed through the window, but all he saw was the tank, the fuel pod vacant. The blur had vanished.

Tom blinked and looked at the tank, approximately in line with the first floor level, and then past it directly up at the second floor window he had leapt from. Almost a perfect diagonal from there to where he lay on the ground. Part of his brain failed to comprehend how he had ended up back at the bottom of the building he started in, but he shook it off and got up, darting out into the street.

The blur that raced overhead moved too quickly to track with his rifle, but Tom had seen it. He held his fire and kept running, saving his remaining ammo for a clean shot, assuming they gave him another chance. As Tom rounded another corner he leapt over a burnt out car and stopped dead in his tracks, gazing through a man-sized gap in pile up of box trucks.

There it was.

In the middle of a circular courtyard, hip height blocks of concrete around the edges that made it look like a dried up fountain, a block of stone sat with what looked like a time bomb sitting on it. A big red activation button sat on top of the device with the safety catches off – his main objective.

Tom shot through the gap, landing on his feet and sprinting for the device in the centre. Twin blurs raced at him, one on either side. He leapt over a barricade and turned as he landed, lifting his rifle to sight in on the first blur. He fired and took off again, spinning around trying to fire on the second target. Without waiting to see if his hits made it he lunged at the controls on the device, striking the red countdown button just as a heavy weight with sharp claws slammed into his back.

–-

Standing in a small room that overlooked the abandoned mini-city, lying high up in the mountains, Tom unloaded his rifle and placed the magazine full of blank rounds on the table. The rifle had a blank-firing adaptor fitted to the end to help cycle the blowback of the automatic weapon; without it the blanks wouldn't produce enough pressure to operate the recoil needed to make the weapon fire normally. A small laser emitter like a target designator was attached to the side, primed to activate whenever the gun fired.

Robert "Niner" Hinds stood at the other end of the table, along with a few of the "enemy" soldiers. He pulled up a scoresheet on his computer pad.

"Recorded some good hits, today," he said. Tom nodded.

"I was cornered in the city for a while, and I knew you had teams around the objective so I wasn't too keen on rushing in before clearing some out." Riggins, a tall scruffy man in a black enemy uniform, smiled and patted his rifle.

"You hit most of us in your perimeter sweep."

"How many kills for the girls?" Niner consulted his notes.

"Five, plus four assists," Niner replied. At that moment Tigerlilly and Evie came into the room with Parker, one of their other mercenaries.

Tom smiled down at the strange girls. Tigerlilly looked almost human, at least when you saw her face, but her body was covered with orange fur, darker orange stripes marking her sides. She had a long bushy orange tail and small, triangular pointy cat ears poking out of the long blonde hair on her head. She had human hands and feet, but walked on all fours. The only parts of her not covered in orange fur were her face, hands and a patch of whitish pink skin that started on and around her fairly large breasts, and ran down over her smooth belly and around her human pussy, ending with a small patch on her asshole below her tail.

Evie, Niner's girl, was similar to Tigerlilly in many of those ways. She had dark brown fur instead, and taller ears in her brunette hair which she wore very short, and her tail was skinnier and longer too. She had the same naked patches though, and both of them were currently covered by the special combat harnesses designed for them. The rigs served to both protect them with armour attachments and preserve their modesty by covering their naked breasts and groins.

"Good job, girl," Niner said, scratching Evie's head. The girl with the long brown ears purred and nuzzled him, while Tigerlilly smiled up at Tom. She had dirt all over her face and body.

"They're getting better at climbing," Tom noted. Niner nodded in agreement.

"Yes, and their stealth is exceptional. Mind you, yours wasn't bad either."

"And your other senses," Riggins put in. "I don't know how you detected where we were in that ambush, we thought we had you dead to rights. And then when Tigerlilly chased you down..." he shook his head. "Those acrobatics were mathematically correct to the dot. That jump through the window? How did you know you could evade her that way?" Tom shrugged modestly.

"Ah, well, I shouldn't have gotten into that situation in the first place," he admitted. "It was make it or perish. The girls and your snipers did a good job of herding me, and evading my shots. Our teamwork is getting a lot better." Tigerlilly chose this time to shake herself off, a bit of dirt hitting Tom in the face.

"All right you, let's go get cleaned up, then," Tom said to her. Tigerlilly smiled even wider, knowing bath-time usually led to sex-in-the-bath-time, followed by plain old sex-time...and sometimes ending with bath-time again. She trotted after her Master, eager to get started and wishing she could skip straight to the sex-time part.

"They're still the best at what they do," Niner murmured to himself. At this point no one ever expected to do better than either Tom or Tigerlilly in combat simulations, but that didn't matter; it felt good knowing your leader was the finest soldier in the company. Niner turned back to Parker, a frown creasing his face.

"Any word?"

"Call came in ten minutes ago." Niner nodded.

"Schedule a meeting tonight. Time to go to work."

–-

Tom, Tigerlilly, Niner, Evie and Parker stood around the electronic map embedded in the table as their tech analyst Griffin did his work, other key members of the mercenary command staff gathered behind him. The map moved back and forth, buildings and other features being highlighted by his fingers moving across the high-tech board as though conducting a symphony.

"The target is a base of operations for a group of pirates operating along the coast all the way down into Somalia. Their compound is partially constructed, an abandoned building site right alongside a dock that leads right up into the base. It boasts high walls and watchtowers, and despite the presence of mostly flimsy prefabricated structures the main building in the middle is heavily fortified."

Griffin moved the map around to show the three story structure that almost looked like a hotel, if it were built to withstand an army invasion force.

"They have enough men to run their own operations without being bothered by rival pirates, and they are getting bolder in their attacks on shipping lanes. Our contact – who remains anonymous – wants them gone, and has already paid our deposit." Griffin flicked an annotation and several folders appeared, one of them with a photo of a rough looking South-African man wearing a black beret.

"Eké Rombosi, newest leader of the pirates. He's ex-military, grew up during the civil war in the 90s and decided to earn as much as he could instead of getting embroiled in 'Somalian politics'. Rombosi's a bloodthirsty mercenary, a terrorist, and not in the least bit concerned about heritage or the suffering of his people, unlike many South African 'patriot' fighters. He's a danger to everyone equally."

Parker reached out and tapped the profile of one of Rombosi's men. "What do we know about their motives?"

"Straight piracy. Profit regardless of collateral. They occasionally refer to themselves as freedom fighters, but it's mostly to throw the UN for a loop, keep them guessing. They just hit a group of local fishermen as punishment for sharing secrets, burned their whole village down." Griffin activated a muted video on the table, showing pirates firing upon unarmed civilians. Tom leaned forward.

"When was this taken?"

Three days ago. Our contact won't say where he gets his intel, only that it's dependable." Niner leaned forward, studying the profile of Rombosi.

"When do we go in?"

"Contact wants this taken care of within forty eight hours." Tom leaned forward, looking up at the men standing around Griffin.

"We leave in twelve. Ross, prep the ospreys. Imahara, I want our scooters fuelled and ready for a seaborne strike. Niner, you're on munitions, enough to blow the compound to ashes. We hit these guys hard, bang out before they have time to mobilise." Tom stood up, looking around the room.

"Make your preparations, people, this one may get loud."

–-

Water. Tom kept his eyes closed as he stayed as calm as he could, his breathing slow and deliberate. He was floating, the world around him foreign and dangerous but somehow familiar. He could feel movement as he was surrounded, barely moving his arms as he floated in relative silence, occasionally broken by muffled splashes. A few seconds after it started the sounds cut off again, the world falling quiet before a click in his ear brought him back to reality.

"Bravo Team, this is Eagle One, radio check, over."

"Riggins, check."

"Imahara, check."

"Niner One, Niner Two, check."

Noise, just noise. Tom floated quietly to himself, listening to his team members over the radio. He heard the quiet whine of an underwater scooter starting up, one of four they had in the water with them. It was close. It wasn't his though.

"McKnight, check."

"Paz, check."

"Burns, check."

Tom felt the water move as someone floated closer. A small, strong hand slipped into his and gave him a squeeze. His eyes opened beneath his mask.

"Levantis, check." Tigerlilly's eyes stared back at him. Tom spoke.

"Murdoch One, Murdoch Two, check. Bravo Two to Eagle One, Bravo team is green."

"Eagle One this is Bravo One. Heading to target now." Niner, as Bravo One, matched actions with words, climbing into one of the three underwater sleds they had brought with them. Tom looked around through the dark gloom of the water and saw Burns and Levantis floating by another, holding on to the small handles attached to each side of the vehicle next to the body-sized grooves that ran along the sides. He manoeuvred over to the sled and climbed into the small, cramped pilot seat, feeling Tigerlilly move into the passenger space behind him.

"Eagle One this is Bravo Two, what is the status of Alpha?" Tom asked, activating the controls and looking over the rim at the other two sleds. Both of them were now crewed by a team of four each just as his was, their low running lights coming online as they oriented themselves, Niner's at the front.

"Bravo Two, Alpha One reports ready, Alpha Two moving into position as we speak." The Alpha teams would provide sniper cover when Tom and his crew infiltrated the main compound. "Eagle Two on station for aerial support."

"Copy that. ETA 25 minutes." Tom turned his sled in behind the others and goosed it forward, following Niner on their route towards the harbour where the terrorists made their home.

In order to infiltrate from the sea they had to drop from a fair way out, but it was a precaution Tom was willing to take. Some might also think having two sniper teams and a support aircraft was overkill, but now that their mercenary group had shrunk from a full-sized army to the few he could trust Tom wasn't prepared to take any chances. A net loss in profits would make the mission pointless, but a loss in manpower was a far greater concern, so as long as they kept a reasonable balance between income and expenditure he would protect the interests of his crew first.

Tom had never told anyone, but this was one of his favourite parts of the job; drop into the ocean from their V-22 Osprey aircraft, the radio checks, everyone grouped together on the sleds, loaded up with weapons and equipment, ready for anything coming their way. He loved the preparation, the coordination, the organisation of it all.

They would work in two groups, Bravo One – Niner – taking half the mercenaries and Evie with him, while Tom – as Bravo Two – took the other half and Tigerlilly. Rombosi and his main lieutenants were the primary targets, but Tom wanted to destroy their vehicles and supplies as well. Several of the mercs were armed with explosives and detonators, more than enough to destroy all the pirate equipment they could find.

Tigerlilly gently squeezed his shoulder from behind. It had taken a long time to convince the girls to go underwater, but they had trained hard and it was paying off. For their first mission, it was relatively simple, and a good test of their skills. Tom just didn't want them to get hurt.

They made it to the compound in good time, receiving occasional radio checks from Eagle One – the pilot of their V-22 aircraft. The things were capable of hovering like a helicopter with their rotating wing propellers, and Tom loved the versatility that offered, so when a previous job had gone well he had spent a little extra to get two of them. Now they circled off the coast at low level, waiting for the call for extraction after the attack on the pirates; one would pick up Bravo team, the other providing air support before rendezvousing with Alpha's sniper units up on the ridge.