Agents Universe

11:23 Operative_Sébastien_Côté: The desert heat is unforgiving. I’ve never felt such heat in my entire life. Once every few months there is a spontaneous joint training session amongst the “five eyes” countries, with the top agents and operatives present so we’re all briefed on the current world affairs in the very same place. This year, it’s Australia’s turn to host, and they just happened to pick the Bradshaw Field as the venue. I get it, it’s in the middle of nowhere in the Northern Territories. It’s one of the most secluded locations on the planet, making it one of the safest. It’s been 3 days since I arrived, but if I have to spend one more day in this heat I’m going to go crazy.

11:23 Operative_Sébastien_Côté: I don’t always go to these, as our organization, the Joint Task Force-2, if you may have heard of them, sends different personnel to these joint training sessions. The chief has decided to send me in preparation of the real deal that’s coming up in the next month. This training session, involving different military units and agencies from the US, UK, Australia, Canada and New Zealand, would pale in comparison to that one. That is the real deal.

11:23 Operative_Sébastien_Côté: I do enjoy attending these sessions though. I don’t usually socialize outside of work, and it’s an opportunity to meet some of the best of the best in the military and espionage business. In this business, you work alone. Oftentimes you work in a bubble. You isolate yourself from the rest of the world for good reasons. But an event like this breaks the mould. There are around 30 people in this joint training session between the Anglo countries, and for the past 3 days I have met members from SEAL, SAS, MI6, CCS all had shared some incredible experiences of their adventures. Of course, I bragged a little too.

11:23 Operative_Sébastien_Côté: It’s day 4 of the joint training session, and thankfully, the last day under the desert sun. Some have already left, but there were about 6 of us who are still around. We did one last training drill together, and one of the cocky American SEAL guys decided to brag about his bare knuckle fighting past as an underground champ. One thing led to another, we started having these scrimmages in the middle of the desert. One pair would go at it at a time, and it almost felt inevitable that I am going to be the centre of this alpha testosterone. And soon enough, one of the guys I met yesterday, James Mason of MI6, called me to step inside that makeshift arena in the sand. He’s a friendly guy, a real gentleman. Incredible physique for a MI6 agent if you ask me.

11:23 Operative_Sébastien_Côté: I feel a bit relieved. Rather than having to fight one of these juiced up American guys for “fun,” I would be sparing with a new friend. I never fight for fun, but at the same time, as the unspoken code goes, I have to show what I’ve got. To earn some respect amongst these guys. Afterall, I am the only Canuck left in the session. Wearing a pair of camo fatigues, bare chested, I am first to step into the “arena.” Even though I am not built like a bodybuilder, my muscles look incredible under the sun, and they look dangerous.

11:23 AgentJamesMason: It had been a grueling past couple of months. First, there had been the entire operation to infiltrate and destroy the Syndicate weapons depot in Scotland. Then, and even more impactful, had been Captain Nick Wilson. He wasn’t able to be here, as he was back at CCS HQ working with Commander Chris Carson to draft up an operational plan to counter the Syndicate. Not only were Captain Nick and myself assigned to a joint US/UK team specializing in countering the Syndicate, but we were also head over heels in love with each other. What a strange world. I’d have never thought I’d fall for an American.

11:23 AgentJamesMason: When Commander Ronald Craig had requested that I represent MI6 at the Five Eyes training camp in the godforsaken boondocks of Bradshaw Field, Northern Australia, at first I was reluctant. There was so much work to be done to take advantage of the intel we’d secured from Darius James. But it was my duty. Now, I’m glad I’ve come. The training camp offered a break from the life-and-death intensity of the last few months. It gave me a chance to build my network of contacts, renew old friendships, make new ones.

11:23 AgentJamesMason: The heat was extreme, but it was a welcome change from the damp, cold of England and Scotland. The Five Eyes would be sending a joint delegation to the huge top secret international intelligence gathering, and this would give them a chance to select the delegation and prepare for the event. Mostly, for me, it’s just been a fucking great time. One agent and I hit it off quite well. Sébastien Côté, from Canada’s JTF2, was an extremely likable fellow, laid back, easy to talk to, relaxed. He was intelligent, and fun to talk with. JTF2 hadn’t been deeply involved in countering the Syndicate, but I was happy to make another contact. You never knew when it would come in handy. He was handsome, nicely muscled, easy to look at, and that never hurts either.

11:23 AgentJamesMason: Inevitably, the Americans started to feel the need to flex their muscles. One of the SEAL men suggested an informal fighting tournament in the desert, under the sun. Of course, I readily agreed. That was just what I needed to blow off some steam and get in some good exercise. I didn’t know him that well yet, but even so, I was a bit surprised when Operative Sébastien Côté was the first man to step out into the middle of our improvised ‘arena’, a rough semi circle of boulders. I hadn’t pegged him as an elite fighter, more of a quiet, behind the scenes, gets-stuff-done sort. But clearly, he had hidden reserves of courage. Never judge a book by it’s cover. Suddenly, I wanted to take him for a test drive, see what kind of man he really was, his training, his skills. And besides, wearing nothing but a pair of camo pants, bare chested, the sun glinting off of his muscles, he looked incredible. Part of this crazy competition involved barefoot and shirtless. The sun and heat was as much a weapon as our opponent.
11:23 AgentJamesMason: I stepped out, wearing a pair of black SWAT style combat fatigues, bare footed, shirtless, muscles pumped and ready for action. Tipping the scales at 200 lbs, I was in fighting form. Before becoming an MI6 agent, I’d been trained in the SAS in every conceivable form of hand to hand combat. Let’s see how my training stacked up with Sébastien’s. I stride up, to about a foot in front of the handsome Canadian. “Well, Sébastien, shall we go a few rounds?” I reach out my hand to give him a friendly shake, my smile affable, but eager to pit my muscle against my new friend’s physique and training. Sweat is already pouring down my head, rivulets making their way down my chest and back, through the gutters in my abs, losing themselves beneath my waistline.

11:23 Operative_Sébastien_Côté: I watch as you step into the makeshift arena. You are looking quite impressive. That should come as no surprise as I remembered you telling me how you’ve been in the SAS for years before becoming a MI6 agent. “Let's do it,” I say. If there’s a hint of French accent you wouldn’t be able to hear it. I shift my body into position with my arms in front of me, with my eyes fixating on you and every bit of your movement. Even though I am not juiced up like most of the men here, I know how capable I am when it comes to close quarter, hand to hand combat, and I am ready to take on the best that MI6 has to offer.

11:23 Operative_Sébastien_Côté: The guys around started to cheer. They’re eager to see some action. The previous two fights saw the loser getting knocked out, and from the look of it, this guy didn’t hold anything back. One of the cockiest Americans got one of his teeth during the fight. He’s been babbling non-stop as to how elite his squad is, and how much he’s accomplished over a short 5 years with the CIA. It was hugely satisfying to see him getting the shit beat out from him by the Aussie operative. Granted, it was a fierce battle of strength and will, but once that big Aussie took charge, it was over. Now the American kid’s laying on his back, barely conscious as we move towards the last fights of this unofficial tournament before the end of the training session.

11:23 Operative_Sébastien_Côté: The American’s buddy from Navy Seal fared better though, managing to beat both the New Zealand agent and the SAS squad guy back to back. He still rubs me the wrong way though, and he knows that I am not a big fan of his overt patriotism and ego, that’s been rubbing me the wrong way the last few days. I shot him a look before returning my attention back to the task at hand. We’ve chatted a few times since we arrived, but there’s still an air of mystery around this Brit. Not only am I surprised by your physique, which you’ve been hiding really well I must say, but also your gentlemen like manners.

11:23 Operative_Sébastien_Côté: I relaxed for a moment to grab your hand, giving you a firm handshake, flexing, showing off my strength. Our friendly gesture even annoyed the guys watching, who’s been yelling for us to get on it. “I know we got to know each other the last few days, but I am sorry for what I’m about to do to you, Mason.” I say, my eyes piercing into yours.

11:23 AgentJamesMason: I stare into your eyes, reading the sincerity and strength of will shining through. I chuckle, and nod, noting that you have a very high opinion of your abilities. Perhaps it is well-deserved. I happen to also have a fairly high opinion of my abilities. I’m not the type to express it with words, however. My fists and feet will do the talking. “Don’t be sorry. This is all between friends. I can take my punishment like a man, and I’m sure you can as well.”

11:23 AgentJamesMason: I step back, and drop into a battle stance, leading with my left hand, my fists coming up into a professional guard. The sun glints off the sweat soaking my powerful muscle. My body and senses switch into combat mode as I begin to centre myself, reading in all the details of my surroundings, my core tenses with power. Then, I surge forward, my right arm rippling with power as I throw a straight right directly towards your jaw, not holding back, following up that straight right with a double left jab, each punch backed by a perfect twist of my hips driving the blow in with authority. Hoping that my initial flurry keeps you focused on protecting your head, I drive up with my right knee, looking to bury it like a sledgehammer directly into your powerful core, aiming for those left hand ribs.

11:23 Operative_Sébastien_Côté: My fellow operatives and agents often tend to underestimate me. Perhaps it has something to do with my friendly demeanor, or perhaps my carefree attitude. But they usually find out the hard way just how tough and skilled I am from my years of combat training with the Canadian Army, the RCMP, and eventually the famed JTF2.

11:23 Operative_Sébastien_Côté: You’re coming at me hard and fast. My sweat soaked, bare chested body kept twisting and turning as I moved swiftly to avoid your blows. They almost got me a few times but each time, you’ve missed me by a hair. You guys are all the same. All brawn and no fighting intelligence. You’re trying to utilize your strength to beat me down early, but that’s not going to work against something like me. You have me on the defensive until you have me backed up against one of the American guys watching behind. Or is he that Aussie who was in the last fight? Anyway, it doesn't matter. Your fist is moving quickly and I am moving quicker. As you drive your right knee up towards my core, I catch it with both my hands. Damn it if you weren’t strong, but I got you now. I lift my head back and smash my head forward to try and catch you by surprise with a headbutt to your skull.

11:23 AgentJamesMason: You have some good skills, your footwork is fast, and your guard is tight. You duck and dive expertly, avoiding my fists. I drive up my knee to your ribs, and you catch it with both hands. You back up until you are up against one of the earlier fighters, looks like the Aussie who took out the cocky American. I’m pleased you are living up to your boast, you are very fast. You drive your forehead forward to catch me with a headbutt, but I’m already reacting even as you catch my knee, hooking it with your arm.

11:23 AgentJamesMason: I throw myself backwards, bending backwards at the waist and at my trapped knee, until my hands are firmly planted on the ground, moving with speed and agility. Just as you are bent over from your headbutt which finds nothing to hit, I tuck in my bare left foot, and from my almost upside down position, I kick up with my left foot, seeking to smash it hard and powerfully right under your handsome jaw.

11:23 Operative_Sébastien_Côté: I was hoping to catch you with a surprise headbutt, but you disappeared right in front of my eyes all of a sudden. I look down to make sure that I still have your knee trapped under my arms, and I do, but make my jaw a target when you land a hard kick up my jaw. My head snaps back from the impact and the kick has me reeling and stumbling back until I feel a hard shove on my sweaty back, causing me to stagger back towards the middle of the makeshift arena.

11:23 Operative_Sébastien_Côté: I am seeing double, I have to shake my head to clear my vision. I wasn’t expecting that kick but if anything, I am accustomed to adapt during a fight. As soon as I see you pulling yourself up from that near handstand position, I act. I push my weight forward until my shoulder aims directly to your midsection. Let’s see how good your ground game really is, when you don’t have that reach advantage over me like you would if we’re both on our feet.

11:23 AgentJamesMason: I feel my foot smash solidly into your jaw, and you stagger backwards, rocking, dropping my leg. I let my legs fall back to the ground, then kip back up with a surge of power from my core, just in time for you to spear my sweaty, steel-hard abs with your shoulder. I grunt, damn, he is fast, I think to myself. And resilient. I kicked him hard. My back slams into the desert floor, small pebbles and stones digging in painfully, the very heat of the rocks slightly burning my skin. No time for pain though. On pure instinct, I snap my legs open and wrap them tight and hard around your sweaty, solid waist, keeping you trapped solidly in my guard.

11:23 Operative_Sébastien_Côté: I take you down hard to the sandy ground and I land right on top of you. I shift my body slightly to get myself into a better mounting position. I succeed, just when you snap your legs open and wrap them tight around my waist. My first instinct is to grab your thighs, and holy shit, they feel like hard steel, making it difficult to even find a grip on those monstrous muscles. My eyes bulging out as I immediately feel the squeeze as soon as you lock your ankles behind the small of my back. I feel a sudden rush of desperation. I know how dangerous a man’s legs can be and these may just be one of the strongest I’ve ever seen. I start to dig my fingers down onto your meaty thighs as my lungs start to burn from the lack of oxygen going in. Sweating profusely, fighting hard but fighting on nonetheless, finding myself trapped between your legs after a moment of carelessness.

11:23 AgentJamesMason: Normally, I would use my legs trapping my opponent in a guard to control him, but these fucking stones were hot under the Australian sun. I did not relish remaining on the bottom. So I gambled, and unleashed the full power of my brutally strong thighs. It was a gamble, because I was expending energy I might need later. But I could tell right away by the way your eyes bulged that the sudden explosion of power crushing your ribs and abs and back was completely unexpected. You desperately dig at my thighs, your grip is strong and I grunt as you try to drive in and disrupt my flex. I can’t hold my flex much longer, but it’s long enough. I roar suddenly, crunching up with my abs, cocking my right fist, my shoulder and bicep flexed, rippling with power as I seek to smash you in the side of your handsome jaw while you are focused on prying my thighs loose.

11:23 Operative_Sébastien_Côté: I keep digging, and finally feeling my my fingers are starting to penetrate your steel like thigh muscles, when I hear your roar. I know you’re up to something. You’re going for a huge blow that’s gonna knock my teeth out, just that the Aussie did to that American kid. I quickly lift my left arm when I see you flexing that right arm of yours. Lifting it up just in time to parry your show that would have knocked me clean out. A sickening crack heard by all when your fist hits my left wrist, and I let out a loud yelp in pain. While I managed to deflect your blow to my head, my left wrist bone was nearly shattered by that blow. I will need to put an ice bag over it as soon as we’re done fighting.

11:23 Operative_Sébastien_Côté: I have to fight back the urge to scream more. To reel in agony. I know from my experience, against someone like you, someone tough, someone who’s bigger and stronger, I need to master the pain and to push on, and push on I do. Instead of prying against your thigh, I maneuver my right hand against your throat, expertly grabbing your thick neck tight between my fingers to restrict any inflow of air, as I try to choke you in this position.

11:23 AgentJamesMason: Again, you show your speed, releasing my thigh with your left hand and bringing up your arm to block my monster right hook, which smashes powerfully into your wrist. It still does some damage though. Your wrist cracks, and I might have sprained it or broken it. I reposition, preparing for my escape when you lean forward and go for a brutal, straight forward choke. Under these conditions, with the desert heat so intense, in the middle of a brutal fight where every ounce of oxygen is precious, it’s a devastatingly effective move. Almost instantly, I start to see spots dancing in front of my eyes.

11:23 AgentJamesMason: I only have a few seconds or I’ll be knocked out cold. My left hand reaches up and grabs your right wrist. Your choke has temporarily robbed me of power, but not my skill. I dig my fingers expertly into the soft underside of your right wrist, disrupting your grip, fighting to pull your hand free. Then, to distract you, to give me a greater chance of breaking the choke, I throw my right fist forward,aiming it right for the tip of your chin. Not as much power behind the blow as I’d normally be able to muster, but I’m counting on your hurt left wrist to slow down your own speed enough for me to sneak the blow through.

11:23 Operative_Sébastien_Côté: I have you. You have nowhere to go. It’s a battle of will, as I aim to choke you out before you put me out with your brutal scissor hold. I know how to cut off someone’s air supply and I am demonstrating it right here in front of the cocky soldiers who stayed behind in this joint training session, having some last minute fun before everyone goes home. And here I am gonna show everyone who the superior agent is. Which the superior agency is. I am dead focused on choking you out that I didn’t notice you cocking your right fist. WHen I see you flex your right bicep, it’s all but too late. Your fist smashes against my scruffy chin as my head snaps back. I’m forced to release my grip on your throat as your fist has me seeing stars, temporarily losing my strength and hold on to you.

11:23 AgentJamesMason: My right fist sneaks in and stuns you enough to rip your grip off my throat. My thighs loosen, as I take in deep gulps of air to restore my oxygen. You are seriously good, but time to prove that I’m better. We both start to recover about the same time. When, suddenly, I loosen my scissors around your waist just long enough to drop my right foot down near your left knee as you are kneeling on the desert floor between my legs. With a surge of muscle, I look to pull my right foot in, knocking your knee out from under you, while I push inwards with my left leg against your waist, trying to knock you over onto your back and completely reverse our positions, so I’m now kneeling on top of you, in your guard.

11:23 Operative_Sébastien_Côté: If there is one good thing about taking that punch to my chin, it’s that you’ve loosen up your legs against my waist. Despite my dazed state, I manage to let out a loud gasp and take a deep breath to get some much needed air into my lungs. Just then, all of a sudden, I feel a sharp pain on my knee, and I lose my balance tipping sideways. The next thing I am, I am flat on my back with you kneeling on top of me. The guys cheering all around us and I can hear one of the guys saying, in a distinctive southern accent, “put a fork in him, pretty boy is done,” followed by some laughters.

11:23 Operative_Sébastien_Côté: I shake my head and try to clear off the cobweb from taking that fist to my chin. I feel your weight bearing down. I twist my body around and try to push up but your size advantage comes into play here. My left arm has been rendered useless, I can only use my right hand to push against your thick pec. I even try to send my forearm against your chest to topple you off of me, but man you’re freakishly strong, which shouldn’t come at a surprise.

11:23 AgentJamesMason: I feel you push ineffectually at me, as the other soldiers, the cocky SEAL and the Aussie in particular, really give you shit, “C’mon, you Canuck wuss! You gonna let a limey manhandle you like that?” I chuckle at the ribbing from the others, then reach out with my left hand, grabbing your right forearm, and with a burst of power, knocking it aside. My right hand reaches down to grab your left wrist, and I yank it up off the desert floor. I switch my grip on your left wrist over to my left, freeing up my right. Your sweaty armpit is wide open now, and with a savage grunt, I smash my right fist down, directly into the pit of your sweat-soaked left arm, the impact sending out a spray of sweat in all directions, the blow calibrated to blast the air right out of your lungs and leave you defenseless for my finishing blow.

11:23 Operative_Sébastien_Côté: You’ve clearly won these men over. Normally, that kind of energy would fuel me in a fight. I would feed off those taunts and come back even harder, but you’re too damn strong, easily grabbing my right arm and toss it aside before you grab at my pain filled left wrist, using it to yank my back off the desert floor. I struggled feeling that painful grip on my hurting wrist. My right hand reaches up again to try and try your grip off my left arm. But the pain I feel from my left wrist is overwhelming, taking over my body and mind, I’m not quick enough to see that fist of yours coming straight into my exposed pit. I scream as I feel the heart stopping punch, my entire body feels weak momentarily. I feel defenseless. I am defenseless. I hear cheers and yells for you to finish me off as I gasp breathlessly.

11:23 AgentJamesMason: I feel your muscled body convulse from the impact of my well-calibrated punch. Now, time to finish this. I reach down with my left and grab your hair, pulling your head up off the ground,I cock my right fist. I grunt, and power ripples through my sweat-soaked body. I whisper at you, “Sorry mate, truly am.” Then I smash my right fist down directly into the side of your trapped head, targeting that extremely handsome, scruffy jaw with knockout power. I notice as my fist rockets down, how incredibly handsome you are. If it weren’t for Nick, I’d have been tempted to seek you out after the fight and see whether or not the interest was mutual.

11:23 Operative_Sébastien_Côté: I find my muscles twitching, long after the punch has connected with my exposed pit. The impact was devastating. I never knew such a simple technique would hurt this damn much. More so than those knives and even gun wounds as far as I am concerned. I have rarely felt this defenseless in my life, my eyes staring up into yours, when I hear you whisper how you’re sorry. My head is trapped. My entire body is trapped under your well oiled body, when you deliver a brutal and quick knockout punch. Everything goes black as I get knocked out cold. My entire body goes limp. My arms dropping onto the desert floor, flopping. My body and muscles, twitching.

11:23 AgentJamesMason: I stand up, chest heaving, sweat dripping, looking down at your knocked out muscle. Damn, I think, he is a beautiful man. Even, or especially, knocked out cold. Then, as the spectators cheered, and I turned to go, three of the men came rushing in, the American SEAL carried the knocked out SAS soldier, and the Aussie carried the knocked out CIA agent, then someone dragged in the knocked out New Zealander. Before I could react, all three men were dumped like bags of trash on top of you, at the bottom of the dogpile. Then someone got out their phone, and turned to face us, “C’mon champs, flex for the troops!” I was a bit embarrassed, this wasn’t very sportsmanlike, but hey, it was all in good fun. I flexed my bicep along with the others as we stood in triumph over the defeated agents and soldiers. Then finally, it was over, and orderlies began to revive the knocked out troopers.
11:23 AgentDerekSteel: I stood up, stretching out my shoulders, enjoying the feel of the warm LA sun. The park was pretty quiet, not too many other visitors this time of day. I appreciated my moments of solitude and quiet. They helped to set the stage for the violent action to come. The Syndicate had a new mission for me. For years they had been attempting to discover the location of the International Intelligence Symposium, a rare event where each of the Western Allied Nations got together and discussed long term strategy, engaged in cross nation training exercises, shared intelligence trends, and developed relationships. The Syndicate wanted to disrupt the event to send everyone a message, in retaliation for the recent destruction of their weapons depot in Scotland. That had seriously annoyed me as well. One of their top men, Darius James, that I had recruited for them away from the CCS itself, had been captured.

11:23 AgentDerekSteel: Cracking the IIS was a tough job, and would involve a bit of luck to pull it off. After careful study, I’d decided the best approach would be to compromise one of the agents attending the event. That was where luck would have to play a role. Which agent would be attending? I’d spent some time combing through my available intelligence, but without luck. Then, I tried a different angle. Were there any patterns of attendance I could use to guide my choice? That’s when I had my breakthrough. Canada. I came across two small pieces of intel that one of our double agents at JTF2, a minor secretary, hardly worth the cost of keeping them under our pay, had overheard. It turned out that JTF2 always sent the same agent to the IIS that they had sent to the Five Eyes training camp. In an unrelated conversation the agent had overheard, it seemed that Operative Sébastien Côté was selected to represent JTF2 at the Five Eyes event. That was all I needed.

11:23 AgentDerekSteel: The Five Eyes was hosted by each of the five different nations in a rotation and date that wasn’t really a secret. This year it was Australia. That was all I needed. Where in Australia was much harder to discover, but I didn’t need to know where. When was enough. I’d saturated the Australian airports with watchers given a simple assignment and a picture of Sébastien Côté. If you see this man, find out his flight details. The Five Eyes event had wrapped up today. So, the agents and commandos should be making their way home now. As if on cue, my phone buzzed. A watcher in Sydney had spotted the Canadian and provided me the flight details. I smiled. I was a good guesser. Nearly all the flights that would be likely for him to take involved a layover in LAX. Now it was time for the fun part of my mission. I strode across the pathway, checking the arrival time for my Canadian. Hours and hours to go yet. Plenty of time to double check my equipment and review his dossier yet again. Had to admit, I was going to enjoy this. The Canadian agent was a handsome man, athletic, muscled. I really hoped I would have a chance to rape him.

11:23 Operative_Sébastien_Côté: I can finally see the end of a relatively rough week. I can hardly wait to get back to Canada for some downtime, a couple of weeks at the cottage, before the upcoming IIS. To be clear, the past week was nothing compared to some of the grueling missions I’ve had, but these kind of socializing events, which I had to attend out of obligations to the JTF-2, ain’t my favorite. I have met a few new lads along the way, Agent James Mason being one of them, but to have him knock me out in that unofficial tournament in front of all those cocky soldiers was a bit of an embarrassment to say the least. It’s fine though, I got over it pretty quickly.

11:23 Operative_Sébastien_Côté: Then there’s the 100 hours journey home that takes me halfway around the globe. I am on my third transfer in LAX and have decided to stay a night here at a nearby hotel. I never travel business class, even though I probably could if I ask for it. I never book a 5-star hotel. I like to lay low when travelling. Always on alert. You never know who may be watching you even as you’re outside of a mission. That’s the life of an operative. There are great many things you have to sacrifice the moment you decided to take the job.

11:23 Operative_Sébastien_Côté: I have decided to stay a night in Los Angles to take a breather during this long journey. I am not a guy who can sleep on the plane. Plus, I am still reeling from that fight with Mason. The nurse at the camp patched me up well after that fight, but I still have a bandage around my chest, up my left pit, as well as my left wrist. My left hand is still hurting like hell, and I was told that it’d be another week before I can start to use my fractured left hand.

11:23 Operative_Sébastien_Côté: I carefully checked out of the airport, making sure that I am not being tracked or followed, before taking the shuttle bus to the motel that’s a mere 10 mins. Away. I checked into the motel and got the key card to a room to the far side of the building. There aren’t many people checked into this motel tonight, just the way I like it. The first thing I did is to take a shower. I toss my bags onto the sofa and head to the bathroom for a steaming hot shower. The bathroom doesn’t look like it’s been cleaned for weeks, and there’s a funky smell reeking from the sink and toilet. But I do need a shower bad, real bad, that I can overlook just how dirty this bathroom is. I need to wash off those filth and sweat from the past 50 hours of travelling through the desert road and from being stuck on the plane for just as long. I turn on the shower and begin to strip down, before stepping into the dirty motel shower.
11:23 AgentDerekSteel: When you enter the concourse, I’m leaning against a wall, idly checking my phone. I’m dressed in nondescript grey slacks, and a simple black button-up. It’s intentionally oversized to hide my musculature, making me seem more ordinary. I’m not certain what your next move is going to be, but if you are just here for a transfer, I’m betting on a chance to waylay you in the airport restroom. But, as luck would have it, you exit through security and leave the Airport. Ideal. I trail you with professional skill, just far enough to see you take one of the cheap-ass airport-motel shuttles. Looks like you are booked into the Motel 6 servicing the Airport. I head to my rental car, change my shirt from a black button up to a loud hawaiian patterned button up. I also put on a pair of sunglasses. I wouldn’t be caught dead in this combination normally, but on the off chance you spotted me in the airport, I didn’t want to arouse your suspicions if you happened to catch sight of me in the lobby as well.

11:23 AgentDerekSteel: I arrive at the hotel before you, as the shuttle waits a while to fill up before heading out. I’m lounging in the lobby, at one of the vending machines when you walk in. I easily overhear the quick exchange with the desk clerk as she tells you your room number and gives you the key card. I wait a few minutes, then tail gate into the hotel with another guest. I make my way to your room. I look left and right, no one is coming. I quickly open my backpack, and pull out a small little electronic device. Very handy little toy. I press my ear up against the door, and hear running water. Perfect. He’s in the shower. I press the device up against the door lock. The device hums briefly, quickly cycling through the combinations until it finds the right code. The door led flashes green. I silently slide the door open.

11:23 AgentDerekSteel: I move into the room, quickly ripping off the shirt, revealing my hard, hairy muscle. Hawaiian pattern really doesn’t suit me at all. I place my backpack besides the door to the bathroom. I’ll need it soon, and I want to keep it handy. Having been in these Motel 6 bathrooms many times before, they are all the same. I have the layout in mind. Suddenly, I yank the door open, and surge through, cocking my right first. I glimpse your naked body, your side facing me, the shower water streaming down your scruffy face. My right fist precisely and brutally drills into the side of your neck, a blow meant to stun and weaken, aimed to keep you from immediately screaming.

11:23 Operative_Sébastien_Côté: I’d be lying if I say this doesn’t feel good after nearly 50 hours of travelling. The steaming water splashing across my face, my body. I ignore the pain on my wounds as the water splash over them, and stood under the shower for minutes. Slowly relaxing. Finally starting to relax after a intense few days. Then, all of a sudden, I hear the door being yanked open. “Shit!” I grunt out loud and turn around. Before me stands a hulking figure. Shirtless, rippling muscles as if you’ve stepped out of the pages of those American Physique magazine. I didn’t have time to react before I was greeted by a fist to the side of my neck. The impact was so great I find my body smashing onto the dirty shower partition which begins to crack. Fuck, I hope they are using those safety glass that turns into pebbles instead of shards when it breaks.

11:23 Operative_Sébastien_Côté: I’m stunned, the blow has paralyzed me for a brief moment. Who the hell is this guy and why is he after me. How does he know who I am? Or does he? Did he track me all the way from Australia? Or is he just some kind of LA goons who wanted to take my money. All these questions come rushing into my head as I try to regain my bearings, try to fight back the haziness. When you’re in the secret intelligence business for this long you’d have to learn to act quickly in situations like this. Fighting that searing pain on my neck, my body slumping against the corner of the shower, I crunch my right fist and send a right hook across your chin, before I start lifting my foot aiming up at squarely between your legs.
11:23 AgentDerekSteel: I watch your body smash into the partition on the other side of the shower, the glass of the square shaped shower unit erupting into a spiderweb. I move forward, the water from the shower splashing onto my muscled chest, the hair starting to mat from the moisture. My victim starts to slump in the shower. Now is when I have to be careful. I must pull this off in such a way that it will look like an accident. The cracked shower partition is perfect for the story I want my prey to believe, but the damage has to be limited. You drive your fist toward my chin, and my left arm effortlessly blocks the incoming blow, absorbing the impact right in the crook of my elbow with speed and precision. Despite your stunned state, the blow has some real power behind it. Clearly, Sébastien Côté is no pushover. Suddenly, my dick starts to stiffen in my wet slacks. Oh yes. This is going to be… URGHHHHHHh

11:23 AgentDerekSteel: Your speed and agility are likewise impressive, as your foot buries itself in my balls. My eyes cross as pain explodes out in a wave from my battered manhood. But my guard never drops, and I breathe in through the pain, welcoming it like an old, familiar friend. Forcing myself to move lighting fast, riding the pain, my left hand shoots around under your right side, bracing the middle of your back, as my right bicep and core ripple with power, and my with a brutal uppercut, I spear my powerful fist deep into your solar plexus, looking to knock the wind and fight right out of you, and rearrange your guts if I can. I’m bracing you from behind at the same time, to prevent your body from being blasted into the shower, to prevent any more damage, and to increase the force your body has to absorb from my uppercut to your core. My eyes are feasting on the splash and play of water as it coats both of our muscled bodies in a sparkling, glinting sheen.

11:23 Operative_Sébastien_Côté: The moment you blocked my right hook I knew you’re not just an average LA thug. Even after I’ve land a hard kick up your balls, you still managed to fight through the pain and keep going. I don’t know who you are but I am not going to let you get away with this. I start to shift my body away from the corner, when I feel your left arm wrapping around the my back. Looking up, I see that “gotcha” expression on your face and I think to myself, “shit!” You’re are a big guy, ripped muscles all around and as I try to slide my body away from your embrace, I only feel your grip on my body tightening, holding me in place, and I wasn’t prepared for what’s about to come. A huge fist to my powerful core knocking the wind from me. I start to cough, gasping in pain and for air. It felt as if you’ve rearranged my inside with that huge punch, your fist drilled deep into my solar plexus. My face’s twisting in pain. It’s taking me a moment just to deal with the excruciating pain, but I know I need to soldier on. You may think you’re strong but you’ve underestimated just how tough I am. I fight back the pain. I now have tears in my eyes, but I suck it up, suck it all up and smash my right elbow to the side of your face.

11:23 AgentDerekSteel: With my left hand holding the small of your back as my fist drives deep into your solar plexus, I’m unfortunately wide open as your right elbow smashes hard against my face. I grunt front the impact, as my head is savagely snapped to the side, a wad of spit and blood splashing against the side of the shower, the water quickly washing it down the drain. My jaw is aching savagely, but pain is part of the price you pay in my line of work. I keep my control, breathing through the pain, a bit of blood leaking out of the side of my mouth.

11:23 AgentDerekSteel: I’d so fucking love to bash this handsome Canadian’s face in, but that’s not on the cards. I can only hurt him in ways that won’t leave any serious bruising, nothing that would give away the fact he’s been beaten up. The restrictions are both frustrating and challenging. I do love a challenge. Keeping my left hand against his back, I bring my right hand up in front of my face to guard, then, still grunting through the pain from your blow to my nuts and face, I spear my right knee up in a rapid fire, machine gun like triple strike, once deep into your balls, the second deep into the pit of your nicely muscled abs, and the third time right up into your liver. The solid crunching impact of each knee is a delicious sensation to be savoured, each blow building on the one to follow. The blow to your nuts designed to make you lose your flex to your abs, allowing the blow to your abs to sink deep into your guts and blast the wind out of your lungs, the lack of wind in your lungs weakening you to the point where I’m hoping the agonizing pain from the liver strike will crush the remaining ability to fight back right out of you.

11:23 Operative_Sébastien_Côté: My forearm landed squarely on your chin, but you’ve got an iron chin if I’ve ever felt one. You shook it off, but I relish the fact that I’ve made you bleed, and knocking loose a tooth or two in the process.

11:23 Operative_Sébastien_Côté: Things are not looking good but I am not giving up. Your grip on my back is just as tight, if not tighter after that blow to your face. Finding myself in this predicament, the one thing I can do is to defend myself until I can find an opening to turn this all around, and I am sure I will find that opening sooner rather than later. I flex up hard as soon as I see that right fist of yours going up, bracing for some body shots. You’re one strong SOB but nothing my well trained body can’t handle. You see my muscular frame flexing up to max, getting ready to take whatever you have got for me, but I wasn’t prepared for this. A seemingly quick but brutal shot to my nuts caused my body to relax involuntarily, then another to my abs that blasted the wind out from my lungs, making me scream and gasp, and a third that lands painfully into my liver, and my entire body goes limp at an instant. My body limp and heaving in your embrace, my face twisting from the pain, the water splashing down onto my body. I whisper, “just who.. the hell.. are you… “

11:23 AgentDerekSteel: Your body reacts beautifully to my triple knee strike, the fight knocked out of you. I slowly guide your limp body down on your knees in front of me. I can tell by the convulsions and tremors rippling through your muscled body that your motor control has been fucked by my savage assault, just as I planned. I grab the back of your head in my right hand, and pull back, forcing you to look up into my eyes. I stare down with intensity. I spit contemptuously, a wad of blood and saliva, down into your eyes. “My name is Steel. Derek Steel. You might have heard of me.” Oh yes, I was sure he knew who I was and what I had accomplished. “And you, Operative Sébastien Côté are a fucking disgrace to the Canadian Army, the RCMP, and to JFT2. How the hell did such a pathetic excuse for a man ever get selected to represent Canada at the Five Eyes training camp and the IIS?” I shake my head in mock despair. “Standards are slipping. But that’s all to my benefit. Because now, you are mine. My tool. My instrument. Your weakness is the crack the Syndicate needs to send a message. Your pathetic inability to fight me will deliver the message. Do you realize, Seb, and I may call you Seb, I’m sure, since we are on such intimate terms.” I nudge your cock and balls with my boot mockingly, “Do you realize I have more fighting ability and power in my finger than your entire fucking pathetic body?”

11:23 AgentDerekSteel: I extend the index finger of my left hand and reach under your jaw, finding the spot where your jaw and neck meet. I dig around for a moment, then find the nerve I’m looking for. I grunt, and spear my finger up into your jaw line, locating just the spot to unleash a hellish explosion of pain with enough intensity and brutal agony to knock you clean out if I keep it up long enough. I smile as I stare down into your eyes, enjoying the scruffy lines of your handsome, manly features, luxuriating in my total control of this defeated Canadian agent.

11:23 Operative_Sébastien_Côté: For an experienced fighter like yourself, a moment of weakness is all that’s needed for you to land the killing blow. I was careless. I was overpowered and I only have myself to blame as I find myself at your mercy. But you don’t finish me off right away. You lower me so that I am on my knees, grabbing the back of my head and force me to look up into you as you deliver some kind of twisted soliloquy. I let your spit and blood get washed down my face by the splashing shower water. I listen to your every mocking word and taunts. So you’re one of the top assassins they have from the syndicate. Of course I know of Derek Steel. Many organizations have you on a kill on sight order. I know you well, and I know what history. I am in disbelief that our first meeting would be in a dinky motel bathroom. “You.. don’t know me…” I say, trying to put on a brave face before you finish me off.

11:23 Operative_Sébastien_Côté: Even though I didn’t have a clue of what you mean when you said that you have more fighting ability and power in your finger than my entire body, I knew you’re up to no good. My eyes follow your hand as you extend your finger. You move it up against my neck, right underneath my jaw. Years in the service I have never seen a technique like this. I have never felt such a pain. The moment you press that finger up against that nerve, I immediately feel the pain. It feels as if I’m being cut by a thousand needles all over my body. I wanted to scream, but your finger holds my jaw in place. Tears start to stream down my eyes. My face crunching in pain, the urge to scream is just too much but it’s impossible to do so. I am forced to stare into your eyes as pain explodes all over my body. I slap and pray on your left arm with my right hand but it does little to ease your hold. I have never felt so helpless in my entire life. The pain is excruciating and I beg for it to end, except that it’s not physically possible. I struggle growing weaker and weaker by the second.

11:23 AgentDerekSteel: You mutter in disbelief that you don’t know me as my finger stabs deep into the nerve cluster beneath your jaw, spreading pain and agony, unrelenting, vicious, sadistic, and deeply satisfying. “Oh, but I do know you Seb. I know everything about you, where you grew up, where you studied, your achievements. I know the depths of your pathetic existence. How does it feel to become nothing more than my tool? The Syndicate’s weapon? I know how it feels for me.” I glance down at my crotch, the stiff hard erection clearly visible through the wet fabric of the gray slacks I was wearing. I watch your weakening struggles with a satisfied smile twisting my lips upwards, my unrelenting finger driving deep into your neck, continuing to smash your pathetic being with savage soul-crushing agony.

11:23 Operative_Sébastien_Côté: My eyes are fluttering, tears streaming, drool leaking. For the first time in my life, I feel like I have no fight left in me. I can’t be a tool to the Syndicate. I have to let the head of the JTF2 know that I’ve been compromised. I have to…. My mind racing, but the pain’s just too much. I can’t fight it any longer. My eyes start to roll back, my entire body goes limp. My right arm drops to my side, swinging back and forth. Before long, I’ve been knocked out from the pain. But that one finger of yours that’s causing a world of pain.

11:23 AgentDerekSteel: I keep the finger deeply driven into your neck long after your eyes roll back in your head. I never take any chances. I release the finger, and your body slumps down, lifeless and limp at the bottom of the shower. I kneel over you. I can play soon, but first, I need to administer the drug I obtained to erase your short term memory. It should wipe out the last 10 minutes or so, which is perfect. I nip out of the shower, my hairy muscle dripping water, and grab the syringe from my backpack. Expertly and efficiently, I inject the long thin needle into the carotid artery on the side of your neck, emptying the drug into you. Your body shudders violently as the drug begins to work, and you slip into an even deeper, more profound state of unconsciousness, only just this side of a coma in fact.

11:23 AgentDerekSteel: Now I can take a moment to play. I smile, and lightly run my hand up and down the limp body at my feet. I explore the heft and curve of your musculature, admiring your fit, toned body, tasting the power in your muscle. I lightly play with your balls, massaging them in my grip. I brush my hands over your chest, feeling the compact, solid muscled pecs and lightly tweaking your nipples. I pull your limp head up, and bend down, giving my victim a tender, passionate kiss full on the mouth, the slight, even slow rise and fall of your chest the only sign of life. I chuckle, and let your head drop limply with a splash to the bottom of the shower. Then, I figure it’s time to indulge in some more fun. I consider you my personal property now, and I intend to induct you formally into my possession. I heave you up off the floor by the nape of your neck, dragging your limp muscle up along the wall of the shower. I hold you up with one hand, and free my raging cock from my wet slacks with the other. I whisper into your ear, “Fuck me, but you have a sweet ass, Seb.” Playing my little game with your limp body. Then, I rip my dick into your unresisting asshole, pounding you hard against the wall of the shower. I’m turned on by my conquest of you, and it doesn’t take long before I’m ready to cum. With a sigh and a shiver, I erupt, filling your ass with Derek Steel seed. Claiming you as mine.

11:23 AgentDerekSteel: I let go of you, as my dick rips out of your ass with a PLOP and your limp body collapses in a nerveless heap to the floor of the shower. I nip out again, and grab my final piece of equipment. It’s in a small hermetically sealed wrapper. I rip it open and reveal a small, flesh colored, flexible square. In development for years, it is actually a bio-electric tracking device that is powered by the victim’s own body heat. As it is completely organic, it is undetectable by any conventional scanning techniques. It will appear to be part of the victim’s body by any but the most dedicated analysis. I bend down and tenderly spread my new property’s legs. Carefully holding the bio-electric tracker in my right hand, I use my left hand to slowly insert my fingers into your ass, loosening it slowly and delicately. I don’t want to cause any major injury that would give away my little scheme. This will take a while, but I am in no rush. Eventually, I loosen your ass to the point where my fist can be inserted. That’s when my right fist begins it’s penetration, sliding carefully and deliberately up your loosened ass. When my arm is inserted about to the middle of my forearm, I concentrate and inside your ass, slowly peel back the backing on the square tracker, exposing the organic adhesive. I carefully attach the tracker’s exposed backing to the side of your anal cavity, holding it in place long enough for the adhesive to work, firmly and irrevocably, short of surgery, attaching the tracker to you. Now you are mine. The Syndicate will be able to follow you anywhere you are, should I choose to tell them. You are mine, not the Syndicate’s however, and they will have to pay for the intel. You are going to become a cash cow for me as well. I retract my hand.

11:23 AgentDerekSteel: I wash everything carefully in the water, and now for the final piece to explain your situation when you wake up. I lift up your limp body, and brutally smash the side of your head into the spiderwebbed partition. The cheap glass shatters into jagged shards, it’s not even safety glass, opening some splendid cuts on the side of your handsome face. Beautiful. The blood runs down your sliced up head. I let you drop to the floor of the shower, cock my right fist, and smash it down hard into the side of your bleeding head with enough force to raise a nice lump. Then, I carefully extricate myself from the shower. I examine the scene, carefully cleaning every surface I came in contact with. It looks like you slipped and fell against the partition, shattering the cheap glass then collapsing to the floor of the shower. The lump would explain a concussion and the short term memory loss. Perfect. I’m also betting that the whole experience will be so humiliating you won’t want to tell anyone else about it. Pride is a wonderful thing, such a tool that can be used to manipulate a strong, brave man. I switch out of my wet clothes, putting on another outfit, then ensuring every trace of my visit has been removed, except of course for your knocked out body, I leave, whistling a tune. Oh, I’m so looking forward to meeting this handsome Canadian again, I think to myself as I leave.

11:23 Operative_Sébastien_Côté: The door was knocking. Knocking loud. I start to come to, feeling pain all over my body. My head, my ribs, my ass!? The door kept knocking, and I hear again, the voice outside yelling out room service. I shake my head off the cobweb and push myself up, surprised to see that the glass door of the shower has all but shattered dangerously to my side. “What the fuck…” I say to myself, carefully picking myself up to my feet. Fuck, even the simple act of standing up hurts and gets me lightheaded.

11:23 Operative_Sébastien_Côté: I switch off the shower and walk carefully around the shattered glass, making sure I didn't step on any of the shards. Catching a glimpse of my own reflection in the mirror. Shit, I look like shit, I think to myself, piecing together what had just happened. The last thing I remember was me stepping into the shower. I must have tripped and fell inside the shower and lost consciousness. Everything in between is all a blur to me. These filthy motel rooms, never again.

11:23 Operative_Sébastien_Côté: I grab a towel to wipe the side of my head clean of the blood, before I wrap the clean part around my waist and head to the door. Opening it I see the Mexican cleaner outside, yelling “Room Ser...” before she saw me answering the door. “Sorry miss, if you can get me 10 mins.” She looked me up and down, noticing the wounds and the soaked up bandage but she didn’t say a thing about them and told me she’d come back in an hour. I close the door and look over at the clock on the wall. Shit! I’ve got less than 2 hours before the flight to Montreal departs. I’ve got a flight to catch.

Published: 2020-07-26, viewed 97 times.