Agents Universe

This story happens not long after Project Zeus

08:52 Corporal_Sam_Mason: I stepped out of the shower, and shut the water off. I take a couple of minutes to dry myself off and put on my semi-formal dress uniform, stone-coloured short-sleeved shirt, green trousers, adjusting my beret and belt. At 170 pounds, 5'7", though I wasn’t the biggest man, I was nonetheless an SAS elite commando, pound for pound, I was one of the toughest, deadliest, special forces operatives the SAS had at it's disposal. Chiseled like a stack of bricks, powerful, dedicated, deadly, I had been working hard to get out from under the shadow of my big brother, MI6 Agent James Mason. As a result, I'd pushed myself harder, further and faster, earning my position as one of the SAS's best, my abilities and reputation placing me at the top of my squad.

Checking myself out in the mirror, I wanted to make a good impression on my SAS brother I’d be working with on this assignment. I had a ton of respect for Sergeant Mark Christopher. He was two years younger than me, but he’d made Sergeant already. He’d developed a reputation as a ruthless badass. Mark delivered. When James had asked my opinion of him, I’d told him as much. I had guessed he wanted an SAS Commando for one of MI6’s black ops, but of course, that was none of my business. I’d met him once or twice, but we’ve never been under fire together. This would be our first mission together. I counted it an honor to serve with him.

I arrived in Wales yesterday, late at night, by myself. Mark would meet me at the detention facility later today.

Strange to think that only a few days ago, I was back in London having tea with my brother, James Mason, a senior Agent in MI6, and his American lover, Kyle Byrne. James had gotten his start in the SAS, so it was only natural for people to assume that I had followed in Jame's footsteps because I looked up to him.

And there was some truth to that, but not in the way that many people assumed. James had discovered the freedom to express his more primal tendencies in the SAS. When he discovered that I shared his wiring for adventure, challenge, primal savagery, and brotherhood, he suggested a military career. It seemed like a great option to me. And it had been, for many reasons. I'd discovered not only an outlet for my own primal nature, but discovered that I was born to be a soldier. As I trained in hand to hand combat, weapons handling, infiltration, stealth, wilderness survival, resistance to interrogation, I discovered reserves of inner strength and physical toughness I never knew I possessed. Sure, I'd been through your standard male-bonding Rugby experiences shared by all Public school boys, but training for the SAS was an entire new level. I loved it. Every aspect of it. I was good at it, and it felt good to be doing good and doing what I loved. And just like James had promised, there were plenty of opportunities for this Public School educated gentleman to engage in the kind of wild and primal activities that would shock our reserved parents.

I finished adjusting my uniform, and headed out to the transport that would take me to the classified detention facility located deep in the Black Mountains. You won’t find it on any map, and you won’t find it on Google. It’s built into the mountain, designed to be a secure facility for detaining and … interrogating .. high-value prisoners. The facility was run and managed by the SAS. The facility was lightly manned and staffed, no more than five or ten men at any one time, traditionally relying on secrecy rather than brute force to maintain it’s security. The activities that occurred there, officially, never happened. The fewer people involved, the easier to keep those activities deleted.

I hadn’t yet been fully briefed on the mission, but I could guess. Guard duty. I could have hoped for something involving some action, but hey, it was a chance to meet Sergeant Mark Christopher, so that was a silver lining.

The back of the transport was darkened, and I had no idea where we were going. That was intentional. The number of people that were cleared to know the exact location of the Black Mountain Detention Facility could be counted on both hands. In short, that knowledge was above my pay grade. After several hours, the transport pulled to a stop. We were given permission to disembark, and I dropped down to the concrete. I was in an underground garage, barren, empty, lit at intervals by harsh lamps hanging from the ceiling. I met my escort, and followed him into the conference room to meet up with Sergeant Mark and receive our mission briefing.

09:32 Sergeant_Mark_Christopher: I'd already arrived at the RAF base and then gone through this level of security, I disliked it a lot since I figured that we're already a security organisation, everyone in the SAS was vetted.

Guard duty though was fucking dull, but it was part of the job and you can't always get exotic locations and fun stuff to do. If you could then everyone would want into the SAS. To be fair most of the services did want to be in the SAS, it's the best of the best.

The blacked out windows of the truck as I went into the location was slightly irritating , it's almost like they didn't trust me, and that didn't sit well. As I dropped down to the harsh concrete I looked at the Sergeant who was going to escort me into the building, I looked at him and shook my head wordlessly and he nodded, sighing in agreement as I headed through the echoing hallways to the meeting room.

There was another SAS soldier in there, a Corporal, it took me a couple of moments to place the face, but eventually I got it. He was the posh bloke who was in Blue Troop, and I put my hand out. "Sam isn't it. I'm Mark."

"Did you also have fun in your blacked out transport with blacked out windows, and a lack of mobile phone signal, and a distinct lack of trust?"

10:28 Corporal_Sam_Mason: This place is not exactly warm or inviting. I mean, barren concrete and harsh fluorescent lights do not exactly make you feel at home. But of course, that's not the purpose of this place. The exact opposite.

I grunt, then, the door opens and in walks Sergeant Mark Christopher. I look him up and down. He seems to radiate this aura of danger and bad-assery. He is definitely the kind of hard-assed fucker I want at my side when the shit hits the fan, not that it's likely to happen here.

I stand up, as he offers his hand. I shake it firmly, with a cheeky grin as I appreciate the strength of his grip. "Sergeant Christopher. Mark. I'm gonna be a bit cheeky here, and guess that you aren't gonna make me get my tongue all tangled on Sergeant Christopher." It's obvious that I'm trying hard NOT to speak with a Posh accent. I'm actually a bit embarrassed at my background, among the lads here in the SAS especially.

"Yeah, I had the dark treatment as well. It sucks, but I'm guessing that it has more to do with the 'legality' of the shit that goes down here, rather than a question of trust."

Then, suddenly, the door opens, and a Lieutenant strides in, his eyes sharp and hard. I turn instantly, and snap off a salute.

09:32 Lieutenant_Peter_Edwards: "At ease troopers, be seated. I'll make this quick, short, and sweet. You have been selected for guard duty because both of you have been personally selected for this duty by your CO. We have been holding a high-value asset here in this facility for some time. The man in question was involved in the assassination attempt on General Alexander Hammerstone. The SAS took that rather personally. Sergeant, this should be no surprise to you, since you are the one who brought him in. "

"After consulting with MI6, we have decided to interrogate him. This activity is scheduled for tomorrow. This activity, officially, will not happen. The man in question is an American national. Which provides even more reasons why this activity officially will never have occurred. You two gentlemen will stand guard during the interrogation and ensure that everything goes smoothly. After the interrogation is complete, you will corroborate the results with the presiding officer, myself. Then, you will forget that it ever happened. It will not have happened. I trust that my orders are perfectly clear?"

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10:43 Sergeant_Mark_Christopher: "Mark is fine," I smile. "And if I worried about legality, I'd...." but then the Lieutenant came in and I turned and looked at him, slightly standing to attention but not saluting.

Saluting them gives them a sense of superiority, and the SAS have some more leeway the more you get promoted.

I listen to the instructions, and couldn't be more bored, but the fact doesn't actually hit my face. "Your orders are very clear, Lieutenant."

"How quickly should we call medical if he has an accident?" I ask. "I mean the mobile phone signal here is shite." I have absolutely no problem pushing the guy out of a helicopter if needs be, no-one tries to kill a senior SAS officer and gets away with it.

He'd already had a few accidents on the way from the warehouse where our police officer former colleague had informed us he was to the airbase in the USA and a few more on his way here, but then I had to go to Russia and I hadn't thought any more about him.

I'm about as far away from posh as possible, I was brought up on a council estate, where the only real outcomes were drug addict, criminal or soldier and I took the latter rather than the first two.

"Either way... we'll be ready."

12:15 Corporal_Sam_Mason: I'm far more entertained watching Mark than listening to the Lieutenant, but I keep my amusement well bottled up. What the Lieutenant has to say seems pretty routine, given the situation. But I do look over at Mark with some interest. So the lucky bastard got sent to America did he to take in our mysterious assassin? Fuck. I get sent to Afghanistan, and he goes to America.

He doesn't even bother to salute the Lieutenant. Damn. I wouldn't try that. There are limits. He's a cheeky fucker though. I like him.

09:32 Lieutenant_Peter_Edwards: The Lieutenant chooses to ignore the lack of a salute from Sergeant Mark. Apparently, he doesn't really care. He seems to have more important things on his mind. He does however, stare at Mark very hard after he asks his question about medical. "Was that a joke, Sergeant? Or perhaps a complaint? Because if it was ... you can submit your complaint in writing to the complaints office... which happens to be me." His eyes glint with suppressed mirth, before he continues, "There will in fact be an accident. After the interrogation is finished. A rather fatal one. You will see to it. Medical will not be called. You are dismissed." He turns, and it was clear from his tone of voice that his little afterthought regarding the planned accident wasn't a joke. Not even a little bit.

12:15 Corporal_Sam_Mason: Sam whistles slightly as the Lieutenant leaves. "And here I thought this assignment was going to be dead boring."

"How about we go and find us some grub, Mark? Or at least ... what passes for grub here. I'm hoping they at least have MRE's. I wonder if they have a gym here.... probably too much to expect .. I could really use a workout to get the blood flowing. Some pad work or even a good sparring match would really hit the spot. Looks like we have the rest of the day to kill."

Sam looks at the bigger, heavier, Sgt. speculatively.

12:15 Commander_Jordan_Byrne: I lower my field glasses as the transport rumbles up the small wood cutters track, entering the shaft of what looks like a condemned mine, stroking my beard. From northern Ireland , former IRA, and formerly commander of the guard at the Syndicate's now defunct Siberian research base, I frown. I turn to my companion, Kurt Davids.

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Davids was trained in Canada as JTF-2 before getting expelled for unknown reasons. He was big, hard muscled, resembling a lumberjack more than a special forces man, but he'd recently shaved his beard off, revealing how stunningly handsome he was , with the fastest reflexes I had ever seen. The man was an absolute crack shot, moving that heavy muscle of his like a lightweight.

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Back in fecking Siberia, a few weeks ago, when that cocksucking, mother fucking son of a bitch, Mark Christopher, had single handedly murdered the researchers I was meant to protect, the two of us had fought it out balls to the wall.

I'd nearly had the cunt, was this fucking close to sending him to hell. But he got away, left me for dead. It was Kurt, that big Canadian, who saved me. I owed him my life. After I'd healed up from the encounter, the two of us decided to team up. My merc company was fucking shot to hell, so I was building it up again from ground zero, partnering with Kurt.

We got along well, we'd been through some hell together, and that always brought men closer together. When the Syndicate had posted this contract, to conduct a hit on a prisoner they didn't want talking, we'd jumped on it. The payout was huge, and it would be just the nest egg we needed to hire some more mercs for out new outfit. I knew plenty of former IRA lads back home that were looking for work. Normally, Derek and his Brotherhood of Steel would jump on a contract like this, but they were busy doing something else, something fecking huge, for the Syndicate. Happy days for us.

Me and Kurt Davids had been here for a few days now. The Syndicate knew that the prisoner was in a facility in this area, but they hadn't known the exact location. Fuck knows how they even got this much intel, probably had an inside man somewhere. But it hadn't taken long for us to narrow down where this place was.

But now we had the bigger job... how to get inside. We came fucking loaded for bear, grenades, AK-74 assault rifles, C4 charges, and a few other toys. I was wearing forest Camo, perfect for these mountains, my big frame in heavy combat boots, BDU fatigues, heavy tactical vest, ceramic plated gloves, several knives, one in my boot, my tactical belt, and over my heart, several side arms, Glock 19s. We even lugged a Russian-made RPG-7 in case shit got really hot.

I considered my options. I'd learned a fucking lot in the IRA... how to crack into some tightly guarded shitholes. I think we had a plan to get in, but the timing would be tight. We'd located the powerline that fed this place from the grid. Now, we were damn certain that this little facility would have some backup generators... but backup generators meant diesel... and diesel meant fumes... and fumes meant an exhaust vent.

After we cut this place off from the grid, the rest was simplicity itself. We find the exhaust vent and drop a little surprise down the vent to take care of their backup power, and the main lights as well as the ventilation system. Then, we go in through the front door while they are dealing with our little surprise, equipped with our night vision gear, kill the prisoner, and get the feck out.

Easy money. I turn to Kurt Davids, the big Canadian lumberjack dressed in full battlegear like myself. To be fecking honest, I fancied the bastard. Women were great for bairns, and I had a few kids back in Ireland, with my wife, but men, especially hard bastards, were more my speed. But, I'd never acted on it. Maybe someday. We'll see how this partnership works out.

I speak up, "Tomorrow morning mate, first light, we make our move. Cut the power and start the fireworks."

13:01 Sergeant_Mark_Christopher: I nod to the lieutenant as he says that, not a single worry crosses my face and then I wait till the Lieutenant leaves and then turns to Sam.

"So did I... but it's still boring... watch the interrogation and then kill the guy. Just need to make sure it does look like an accident. He's an American citizen and as far as I know he's still a serving soldier."

"So can't actually be seen to be us."

"Food's good..." I say standing and looking at Sam. "Yeah.. gym would be good... failing that we can just find an empty room, I doubt you'd worry about hard surfaces when we're sparring."

"But if they've got at least officers here they'll be some decent food around if we can find it."

"And we need a chat about saluting officers when they come into a room..." I say smiling and heading towards the door. "Obviously Blue Troop has a way stricter command structure than Red Troop does... or is it your posh boy upbringing."

"Food then we can have a good workout, sure there'll be an empty room around here we can use. If you're up for that Sam?"

It's far easy talking to another SAS guy, no need to put on any act or anything like that. While there was minor differences between the active troops - Red, Blue and Green they were all one Regiment and that's the great thing. They could just say things to each other that no-one else would know or understand.

As we arrived in what was laughingly called a canteen, which was mostly prepacked MRE's with a couple of locked store cupboards, it was too late for any cooks to be around. I looked at the locked store cupboard and went into my jacket and pulled out a lockpick and started to go to work on picking it. "The good stuff is ALWAYS locked away."

"Sam Mason isn't it, are you James Mason's brother?"

14:14 Corporal_Sam_Mason: I head out of the room, listening to Mark. I'm not bothered in the slightest about killing the prisoner after he's been interrogated. He tried to kill one of our own, and in my book death is too good for him. Trying to make it look like an accident now... that could be interesting.

I nod, with a grin. "What, you think I'm one of those Royal Marine types? That go around showing off for the public on their cushy mats? Fuck no. I reckon concrete is soft enough for me."

I wince slightly, as Mark mentions my upbringing. I get ribbed about it all the time. I try to roughen up my accent, but clearly it doesn't work. Still, if I've learned anything in the SAS, I've learned how to not to take shit personally, especially not from one of my brothers.

"Nah, our Sergeants almost never salute when it's just SAS. But you hafta remember, I'm just a lowly Corporal, can't forget my place." I grin, looking at Sam sideways as we head down the barren concrete corridor, "I don't have the advantages of your rough and tumble upbringing, hampered as I am by the relentless good manners they beat into me. I'm trying to throw off the bad habits, but fuck, it ain't easy." I could tell just as easily that Mark was definitely working class. It only increased my admiration for him. Sometimes I had a hard time with my background.

"Food first, then we can find a place to throw each other around a little bit."

I was mad for rough action, any excuse to push myself physically and I was there, always had been. One of the reasons I was so drawn to the SAS. Mark had about 40 pounds on me. Didn't bother me. I was used to being the smallest man in a fight, but that just meant I had to be the man with the biggest fight. I enjoyed the challenge.

We found the 'canteen', more like a storeroom where they kept the MRE's. I have to admit, the prospect of an MRE doesn't fill me with joy. But then, I watch with a wicked grin as he starts to pick the locks to the cupboard. "You cheeky cunt, Mark. As my Dad would say, you are a really, really bad influence on me." I laugh, clapping Mark on the shoulder.

My stomach starts to rumble at the prospect of Officer's grub. I almost miss Mark's question. I look at him, sideways as his question sinks home. "That's right. I suspect, quite strongly, unofficially that you have met him already. He asked me a while back what my opinion was of Sergeant Mark Christopher. I told him what I knew of you. I'll bet your meeting with him happened not long after."

I sigh, "There are times when I think I ought to change my name. Don't get me wrong, I think the world of James, but he casts a long shadow. I've had to work hard to get out from under it. He is former SAS, but I'll bet you knew that already."

The lock pops open on the cupboard, and eagerly, I kneel down, looking over the riches inside. "Hot damn.. Rib-eye steaks!! Think they will miss two of them?" I rummage around a bit deeper, "Pickled eggs ... and ..." There, hidden behind a box of pasta, "Bacon! Sounds like a feast to me."

14:44 Sergeant_Mark_Christopher: "You don't need to worry about your upbringing, that's the thing, you're here," I say putting the lockpicks away in my pocket. "You're a member of The Regiment."

"I couldn't be arsed if you were the Queen's grandson, you'd get treated exactly the same by me."

"You're here... and even if your voice sounds like it's come from a Lord's backside... you know what... don't give a crap," I wink, smiling as I grabbed a couple of steaks and threw them out along with a pile of frozen chips and sauces. "You see - at no point in our induction to this site did anyone say 'don't unlock the food cupboard'. Had they said that it would have been different, but they didn't say that... in fact there wasn't an induction. For all we know they just forgot to give us the keys."

I grab a couple of pans and start cooking two of the large steaks. "Food, then yeah I think we can do that, I've been on vacation for a bit, so it's always good to get back on the horse with some training."

"But don't be ashamed of being the brother of a former SAS soldier, fuck, get it bloody well tattoo'd on your shoulder." I turn and look at him. "There are 200 men in the Regiment compared to 150 thousand in the British Army, which means not only did one guy from your family get in, but two bloody well did. And it doesn't matter who your dad is because there isn't a fucking guy in this land that can pull strings to get their lads into this Regiment unless they got here on merit."

"You're here on merit. You're not here because your brother was."

"So shut the fuck up about crap like that, be your own fucking man, you're not Sam Mason, James' brother... you're Sam Mason, SAS Corporal."

"That reminds me, when you do go back to your castle for dinner with your brother, can you remind him he said he'd buy me a fucking drink and he still hasn't."

I flip the steaks over casually starting to brown the other side. "And you get to live with being Young Lord Mason if you don't shut up and get some knives and forks out... right." I smile at him with a large grin. "I'm obviously not being a bad enough influence yet... you asked will they miss two steaks... what you should have been asking is will they miss four because you're not thinking of breakfast tomorrow."

15:27 Corporal_Sam_Mason: I listen as I rummage around in the cupboards, getting out a baking sheet. I lay out some frozen chips and fiddle with the oven, waiting for it to preheat.

Mark has a gruff, no nonsense manner that takes no crap, from anyone, and the friendship he offers is likewise no nonsense. It's refreshing and instantly strikes the right tone with me. Not everyone is so dismissive of my background.

I grin, "I like the way you think Mark, especially when it produces grub like this. The SAS version of .. 'it's easier to ask for forgiveness than permission' "

The oven finishes heating, and I slide the chips in as the gorgeous smell of the browning steaks makes me salivate even harder.

I start rummaging further for some plates and cutlery, letting some more of Mark's straight shooting words to sink in. "Fuck no, Mark, I'm damn proud of James, damn proud to have an older brother from the Regiment. Not ashamed in the fucking slightest. But you are right, it's bloody stupid to care about the opinion of anyone who doesn't realize what it takes to be here in the SAS. I hear you man. You speak uncommon good sense."

"I'll remind him about that drink... if you drag me along." I chuckle as I lay out the plates, popping the chips out of the oven, and serving them up. I spear those steaks out of the pan, serve them up, and pass Mark his plate.

"Oh damn... steaks for breakfast. A man after my own heart."

I slide down against the wall, and start tucking into my food, happy to sit in companionable silence for a bit as I take the rough edge off my voracious appetite. Between mouthfuls, I speak up again, "Where you from Mark? Can't quite place your accent. Where ever you are from, I reckon you have done more living in your life already than folk twice your age. The SAS is most of that, hell yes, same as it is for me, but with you, I reckon that some of that started before you joined the Regiment. You got your head screwed on uncommonly straight."

15:52 Sergeant_Mark_Christopher: "It's difficult to put a hand on my accent, don't worry yourself, I'm from Manchester, but I've traveled around a lot since I joined the Royal Marines, and ... oh that reminds me."

He leant over and punched Sam in the shoulder. "That's for talking shit about the Royal Marines earlier." His punch was playful but strong. "Then I joined the SAS and I've traveled even more since."

"But you're right I grew up knowing how to deal with people, how to deal with bullies, drug dealers, how to keep on the right side of the right people, and piss off the wrong people just enough that they fucked up. I did some bad stuff when I was younger, yeah, but I'm not one of those who get into the army to atone for it... nah... I couldn't give a crap what I did when I was young. No point in living in the fucking past."

I sit against the wall and eat in silence for a bit, then I smile and decided to have a bit of fun with the guy. "I don't think you want to come out with me and your brother, considering what I actually want to do to him, he's fucking fit your brother."

16:42 Corporal_Sam_Mason: I sat back, munching on real food as I listened to Mark reply, before he hits me in the shoulder. My eyes just twinkle, and I grin a little wider. He hits hard, too. Which I fucking like. I don't flinch though. Royal Marine huh? I noted that down.

What he told me wasn't a surprise. I'd had him pegged as a man who grew up in the rough part of town. He had some serious street smarts.

I'm just swallowing one of my last chips when he remarks on what he'd like to do with my brother. I actually choke on my chip in shock. Finally, I get control of myself, swallowing it and stare at him for a moment.

Then, I start to laugh. "You, and about half the ladies in London want their hands on him. But as you have no doubt already figured, the most he will do with the ladies is very politely give them the time of day. Hell, if he weren't my brother, I'd join you if you managed to get your hands on him. These days though, he mostly only has eyes for Kyle, the American Police Detective he rescued after blowing up the Syndicate base outside of Des Moines. But I bet he looked you over real good. You are every fucking bit as fit as James."

16:50 Sergeant_Mark_Christopher: I listen patiently, until he gets to the bit about his brother and I laugh. "First of all," I interrupt. "You'd be surprised how much guys eyes can be turned... besides I'm sure he'd be up for a threesome with the American guy. But I'm pretty sure if I was to do that you shouldn't be anywhere fucking near that scene and I'd fucking ruin your brother, he's good looking, not many guys in a suit get me hot I can tell you, he did."

"Plus there's an American I quite like as well, but unlike your brother, I don't limit myself to one guy, hell I'll never limit myself to one guy, I'm in it for the moment, not the long term. The American's fit... probably a bit rough for your taste..." I smile looking at Sam. Far too posh for David's style in bed.

16:42 Corporal_Sam_Mason: I'm still processing the fact that he's just shared with me that A) He has the hots for my brother, and B) He enjoys the company of men. I mean, most of the men in the Regiment I know wouldn't be nearly so open about it. Fuck, I'm not that open about it. I take it as a deep compliment that he opened up to me about it. And in such an utterly casual and commonplace way, like he does everything. What a fucking amazing man he is.

I close my eyes for a moment, envisioning a threesome between Mark, James, and Kyle. The quick image sends a surge of heat to my groin. FUCK. I open my eyes again, reply to his comment about ruining my brother.

"Mark, don't underestimate my brother. He may where a suit... but if he decides to go hulk mode, you'd be surprised at how quickly that suit will get ripped right off. James is a fucking beast ... I'd take odds on you being ruined before him."

16:50 Sergeant_Mark_Christopher: "What about you, no-one posh joins the army as an enlisted man and not an officer unless there is a reason. You're posh enough to be an officer, but you don't hold yourself like one, you don't really talk like one except for the accent."

"Now... your brother.... he does.. He was made to be an officer. You're ... you know... too fucking normal, Sam."

16:42 Corporal_Sam_Mason: Then, I'm snapped out of my little reverie as Mark asks me about myself.

I grin, polishing off my last bit of steak and chips, grabbing the plates and quickly doing the washing up as I reply. "Well, you got the brains to be an officer, but you have better sense. So do I! If my Dad had been alived, he would have pushed me to become an Officer, but he isn't, neither is my Mother. They both died when I was 14. And when I asked James if I should go the officer route or the enlisted route, he sat me down and asked me what I liked. I remember the conversation like yesterday. I told him that I wanted to fight. I wanted challenges. I wanted to be pushed to my physical and mental limits. I wanted it to mean something. Then he told me that the reason he eventually left the SAS and joined MI6 was for the same reason. As an Officer, he never had a chance to get the action he craved, it was all paperwork. But, as a field Agent for MI6 he got all the action he could handle. But, he said, he still had the paperwork."

I finish the washing up, and turn to look at Mark. "See, my and my brother, when all is said done, we are warriors. We aren't happy unless we are there, right in the fucking thick of it, on the front lines, giving our utmost, putting our bodies on the line to defend our way of life. It's a craving, a calling. And we both have it, James and I. So, I learned from James, and went the enlisted route. Joined the Army, and as soon as I could, applied to the SAS, and here I am. This is my life. This is my home. My family. I'm doing what I love."

16:50 Sergeant_Mark_Christopher: "What about you... boyfriend... husband?"

07:42 Corporal_Sam_Mason: I listen to Mark subtly poke and probe me, I turn from my washing up for a moment, to look at him with a cocky half grin. "James is an old man compared to us. I've told him that I'll never be the marrying kind, and he just looks at me every time with his knowing grin, but says nothing."

"As for me, I like it rough and brutal. One of these days, you are gonna have to hook me up with this Yank of yours, and watch as I destroy him then plunder his hole. Ever fight for fuck rights? Cause I have. Every chance I can. Hard to see how I could ever settle down with a boyfriend or husband when I'm craving to fight and fuck." Did I like it rough, the fucker says? Clearly Mark has a lot to learn about me.

Holy shit, Mark is such a hot fucker. He is really pushing my buttons, he's hard, fit, strong, handsome ... but he's also in the Regiment. Almost like forbidden fruit. Fuck.

09:40 Sergeant_Mark_Christopher: I stand up and relock the cupboard as we finish talking. "Right... so Lord Mason, if you've finished tidying... fancy a bit of sparring to get us through the long dull hours of fuck all to do until we stand in a room watching someone get beaten up and interrogated doing fuck all ourselves."

The killing the guy would come after that... that's the more fun bit at least.

I listen to Sam, we're very alike in a lot of ways, and I'd lie if I wasn't getting turned on by the thought of a threesome with him and David, that was one hell of a great image, although I think his idea of rough probably is still not as much as me and David like it would be fun showing him.

I'm never likely to settle down either, a couple of reasons, the Regiment isn't really a place to settle down, the divorce rate is through the roof, and someone who likes the level of roughness that I like wasn't likely to find many people outside the armed forces who are into that sort of thing.

07:42 Corporal_Sam_Mason: "Let's go mate, I need to get my juices flowing. And you need to be put through your paces." I grin, leaving the grim little canteen. I dart back to the briefing room, hefting my rucksack, full of my combat gear and weapons, and personal effects, then jog back, hefting the 150 pounds of gear easily.

09:40 Sergeant_Mark_Christopher: I look up, he was saying something else, but I'd been to busy with that image to pay much attention, but we did say we'd have a good workout which would be good training and probably to get the image of David out of my head right now.

"This place is fucking shit," I say as we head down the corridors.

07:42 Corporal_Sam_Mason: It doesn't take us long to find an empty room, barren, dusty, about 20 foot square. Probably an old holding cell, not used any longer. Just a barren concrete box now. I look over at Mark, "Reckon this will do. How about we make this more interesting, more real ... Let's spar in full battle kit, armor, boots and all." Besides, that way my fucking rock hard dick won't give me away. Fuck, Mark is so goddamned hot.

09:40 Sergeant_Mark_Christopher: "Yeah, practicing in full gear is always good," I say and start to get my stuff out of my rucksack and start to put it on. "You're heavier and slower in this stuff, so good and bad."

I smile at the guy. The two brothers do look similar and James had been very fit, but Sam was Regiment, and I was his Senior NCO and I wanted to fuck him so hard to show him he wasn't ready for David. Yeah fighting for fuck rights is nothing new, but what David and I get up to was a lot heavier than that.

I pull on my body armour, changing my standard uniform trousers for ones with ceramic knee plates and shin guards and cup, strapping the heavy assault vest around my chest in silence before putting on proudly my beret neatly on my head. I grab the couple of personal weapons I have in my bag, and place them around my person, two glocks, a boot knife, Armstrong's knife in a scabbard on my vest.

"I think the most dangerous thing in this room is getting fucking allergies from the poor cleaning schedule," I say as I pull on my ceramic combat gloves. "It's a fucking tip this place."

"How about a little bit of a wager then for this fight... If you win, I arrange an extra day's leave for you, if you win, then my laundry and boots are all yours to do tomorrow." That was more tame than the fact that if he lost I wanted to fuck him senseless.... but that wasn't likely to happen... FUCK.... I wasn't normally turned on by other British army guys, you don't play in your own backyard.

10:11 Corporal_Sam_Mason: I'm not surprised when Mark readily agrees to my request. Clearly, we both liked to challenge ourselves as extreme as we could. It was part and parcel of being in the Regiment. I catch the smile he sends my way, and I give him one back.

I wondered again at how fucking much he turned me on. He was Regiment, like me, but right now, I almost didn't give a fuck. He liked it hard... he was hot... rough and fit as fuck. I hadn't told him how hard I liked it, of course. You just don't. But I was about more than just fighting for fuck rights.

I was aching to take him down hard, ream his ass out as I showed him just how hard I liked it. He wasn't ready for me... nor for James.

I take off my duty uniform, stripping down to my skivvies, then gearing up for our sparring session, switching over to my battle gear, the thick heavy duty armoured trousers, plates over the knees, quads, shins, a built in cup. I slip into my black combat boots, and slip on my heavy top over my t-shirt, the lean hard-cut lines of my muscle showing just how much power I was packing despite my smaller size.

I shrug into my heavy armored tactical vest, snapping my belt in place around my waist, and loading up with one Glock on my belt, and a second in a rear holster behind my back. I grab both my knives, one for my belt, the other sheathed over my heart. I finish by slipping on my ceramic combat gloves, then adjust my beret on my head. I was ready to fight.

My dick was rock hard inside my cup, at the thought of getting rough with Mark. He was shit fucking hot. I grin at Mark, replying, "I've fought in worse places than this junkheap." I thought of Afghanistan, some of the tight spots I'd been in there.

I listened to Mark's proposed wager, then grinned, snapping back a counter offer. What I really wanted was to fuck him senseless if I managed to take him down... but shit.... he was Regiment, a brother.. And right then, I almost didn't care. "I have a better idea. If I win, you will hook me up with this tough American you keep me telling me about, and watch as I take him down and fuck him senseless. If you win, I will hook you up with my brother, and watch as he takes you down and fucks you senseless." I could make good on it too. James would do that for me. He'd honor my bet. Besides, I'm sure he wanted it.

I limbered myself up, then my weight nearly doubled by my heavy battle gear, I moved out, circling, moving as though the weight was feather light. I was fucking strong for my size, and it showed. I reached out for a handshake before we got started. At the end of the day, Mark was Regiment, he was my brother, and despite how fucking hard we went as we sparred, this handshake was here to show that nothing was going to change that.

10:24 Sergeant_Mark_Christopher: "Yeah I've fought in worse places, but they were never worse places that were fucking owned by the British Army." I grumble as I smile back at him.

I'm confident in my ability to win, but if anyone could beat me it would be a fellow member of the Regiment, and there's no shame in that at all, I expect them to all be as good as me.

"Honestly I'd take that bet, but I can't promise for David, I'm not his fucking pimp, but I think you're overestimating your abilities if you think you'd get to fuck David senseless... lets put it that way. He's special forces as well. He's no fucking pushover."

"Now the thought of fucking your brother while making you watch... I have to say that's got something to it. But you'd have to know your brother wouldn't be fucking walking straight for days after I finished with him. Posh boy like him..."

James had still been Regiment, he'd put up a fight, but this is now just working to psych Sam out as I'm already mentally fighting him.

"If you win I'll give David your number and if he agrees, I'll watch as you fuck him. If I win you do the same with your brother. But if either of them back out... then no harm done, we can't speak for them."

I put my hand out to Sam to shake it nodding at him. "It's on." then immediately bring it up to punch him in the face

10:43 Corporal_Sam_Mason: I nod, "We make our best efforts, fair enough." I grin.

We shake hands, and immediately after releasing, Mark's fist comes rocketing up towards my face. The fight was on. Mark was trained, SAS, like I was, and that meant this fight was anyone's game. I grinned as I slipped, and twisted, that hard fist of his nearly kissing my face as it just missed me mug.

I was already moving though, changing levels, dropping low, cocking my own fist and firing it off with my heavy fisted speed and precision, driving my fist in a hook straight for Mark's opened up armpit before he could pull his own fist back. The body armor has a weakness right in the armpit, one I've trained to exploit. I know first hand how much it fucking hurts to take a fist in your armpit.

10:54 Sergeant_Mark_Christopher: I step forward, into the missed punch to where Sam had just been twisting my body so the body armour takes the blow rather than the exposed area, still I feel a thud, the guy is strong and I smile internally.

My other arm came down to grab Sam's wrist to control his movement, twisting it to attempt to control the flow of the fight, throwing my shoulder down and into his armour to attempt to put him off balance.

11:01 Corporal_Sam_Mason: Mark twists enough to take my fist on his body armour. He's good, fucking good, just what I would expect from a fellow member of the Regiment.

Moving like a snake, he seizes my left wrist, twisting it, keeping it out of the way as he slams his shoulder into my armour. Grunting as his shoulder knocks me backwards, fuck he's heavy and strong. I reach out with my right hand and grab the collar of his heavy armory, going with his shoulder block, letting my body slam back into the floor, dragging Mark down with me, curling up my legs, planting my boots in his guts, and heaving up, looking to throw that heavy, hard muscled bastard up and over my head behind me.

11:10 Sergeant_Mark_Christopher: There's very little I can do about that as I head over his head slamming hard onto the floor, the sound reverberating through the room. But as I slam down I put my arms behind me and grab Sam's head and twist hard, so he has no choice to turn around so we're in the same position, head to head but both now face down on the floor rather than face up.

My arm quickly turns and puts it around Sam's neck as my next intent is to try and spin around on top of him to choke him out.

11:20 Corporal_Sam_Mason: I feel my hard muscled SAS brother slam hard to the dirty concrete behind me. I start to twist, but fuck me if Mark hasn't grabbed my head. To avoid getting my neck snapped, I'm forced to flip over to my front, starting to breath heavy, my cut muscle beginning to sweat in all my heavy gear.

His arm is around my neck, and he's spinning in his full gear to get my back. I know what's coming, and my reaction is instinctive. I drop to my elbows, seize his wrist in both my hands, and as he spins around, I heave myself off to my side, flipping him off my back, borrowing his own momentum to help slam him back first to the concrete beside me, unwinding his arm from around my neck in the process.

Now it's my turn... I scramble and twist, throwing my weight across his chest, landing cross body across his geared up hard muscled body, adjusting my double grip on his wrist, sliding my forearm under his tricep as my other arm gripping his wrist starts to surge with muscle, looking to bend his muscled arm against the elbow joint.

11:34 Sergeant_Mark_Christopher: I slam for the second time into the concrete hard. The bastard is strong and quick. I judge that I have the edge in strength and he has the edge in speed which is making for a good fight.

I grunt in pain as he lies on top of me and my arm is being twisted around his. being extended and manipulated. I grunt a second time as it continues but he’s left my other arm free and I put it around his neck but rather than choking him I put the gloves hand over and mouth and nose pressing down on them so he can’t take in any more air.

Either he passed out first, my arm would give first, or one of us would have to change tactics. Fuck this guy was good.

11:49 Corporal_Sam_Mason: This fucker is so goddamned strong. I've got his arm barred, but the bastard has so much power that he's holding off my attempts. My dick twitches even harder in appreciation of his sheer power. What a fight this is.

Then his opposite hand reaches up and over, and his gloved hand covers my mouth and nose, cutting off my breath. We are both fighting hard and heavy, and oxygen is precious. Can't fight without it. He's good. So good. Loving every second of testing myself against him.

I'm forced to drop my arm bar in self defense, reaching up to seize his wrist, knocking it free from my mouth. Sucking in wind, I twist on top of him, shifting to a full mount, locking my heavy armored knees onto the concrete on either side of his torso.

I slide my hand in under his chin, and clutch his throat with one hand, giving him a taste of his own medicine, sliding my other gloved hand up and over his mouth and nose, going for a double choke, using one hand to try and crush his throat, and using my other to cover his nose and mouth to cut off his air.

11:58 Sergeant_Mark_Christopher: He weighs too much to try and get him off me easily, I think about the possible moves fairly quickly, but as the oxygen is a really important resource as I'm already sweating and breathing hard from the fight in full gear.

It doesn't take long for my head to start pounding I lock my arms around him like I'm going to try and give him a bear hug, which would be useless from this position as I would have no leverage.

But actually what I'm doing is removing my right glove and throwing it to the floor so I can jab my thumb into the vein on the side of the neck, hitting the pressure point as hard as I can with my thumb.

12:14 Corporal_Sam_Mason: I've got Mark now, just a few more seconds and he'll be out... But before I can choke him out, he reaches his arms up, behind my body. I dismiss it, it's just his oxygen starved brain not working properly. But I was wrong, badly wrong.

Suddenly, he spikes my carotid artery with his thumb. FUCK... I never saw it coming. My body convulses in my heavy battle gear, sweat soaking my skin. I topple off to his side, blacking out for a second or two. Then, my training kicks in, and I scramble away from him, to make distance.

That was a fucking brutally beautiful move, as I fight back to my feet, forcing my combat-trained muscle to shrug off the effects of the blow, breathing heavy, focusing through the lingering dizziness and lightheadedness with ruthless determination and training, dropping back into a guard.

It was such a fucking pleasure to spar with an equal like Mark.

12:20 Sergeant_Mark_Christopher: I get to my feet, sucking in the air that my body had been missing scrambling to my feet, I charge forward quickly but the last time I did that he tossed me over his head, it's possible he has the same muscle memory so I do exactly the same thing as last time and charge with my shoulder to tackle him to the floor, but if he does I have a surprise as I slip my gloved hand through his belt in a single motion.

Come on, try it Sam.

12:25 Corporal_Sam_Mason: Chest heaving, Mark comes for me, not giving either of us a chance to get our breath back. I grunt. My head is still fuzzy from having my carotid spiked, otherwise I might have been suspicious when he repeated the same move he used on me earlier. As it is though, my brain is not yet firing on all cylinders, and I rely on my combat instincts, driven deep into my muscle memory.

As his shoulder slams deep into my tactical vest, I go with the move again, as I grab his heavy armor, and go to fall back, intending to once more throw Mark's thick muscled, kitted out frame over my head.

12:32 Sergeant_Mark_Christopher: With my hand around his belt, he's now fighting his own body weight as well as mine as he tries to pick me up, admittedly given a strong enough person, the belt or trousers would give way, but army equipment isn't designed to be that fragile and he finds that picking me up again is now nearly impossible.

In that moment of confusion and him now being off balance, I grab Sam's head and just fall backwards onto the concrete, using both our weights to slam my back into the ground, and Sam's face into the concrete.

12:48 Corporal_Sam_Mason: I go to throw him over me, realizing too late that Mark has outsmarted me, taken advantage of my dazed state. He's grabbed my belt, and there is no way I'm throwing him right now. My balance is knocked off kilter, and as I shift to try a plan B, it's too late.

Mark has already grabbed my head, and throws me face first to the concrete. If my face had struck the concrete, it likely would have knocked me out cold. But my reflexes are fast, and I wedge my arm in front of my face as we fall, taking the brunt of the impact on my forearm. It sends a jolt of heavy pain shooting up my arm, but my face is spared a knockout blow.

Furthermore, Mark has conveniently pulled me down on top of him. Without a moment's hesitation, my brain getting sharper, I shift my weight again, twisting my body in his headlock to pop out of it, pouring on every ounce of speed I have, hoping my speed can counter his greater strength, to lay my combat kitted out muscle once more across his chest in a cross body position.

But this time... I trap his opposite arm between my legs to keep it out of play as both of my gloved hands grab the arm he was using to headlock me, the same arm I weakened in my original arm bar attempt, grunting, chest heaving, feeling the exhaustion that comes when you fight someone in full battle gear, with full battle gear yourself.

With precision, my own hard-muscled strength, and SAS discipline, I attempt to lock out my brother's weakened arm in another arm bar.

12:54 Sergeant_Mark_Christopher: The tiredness is getting to both of us, with both arms locked, I'm running out of options, when sparring with your colleagues there are limits you can go to, and there are limits you can't exceed.... I can't actually stab him for example, although getting to my knife would be hard in this position.

I lift my head up and slam my head forward impacting with his nose enough to draw blood, but it's not lessening the twisting on my arm which was threatening to be pulled out of it's socket. I ensure this for nearly twenty more seconds, just looking at Sam's now bleeding face considering my options, but eventually the sweat dripping down my face matching the blood on his I very slightly nod. "Okay..." is all I say. Acknowledging that he's won this one.

13:00 Corporal_Sam_Mason: I'm struggling hard, using up lots of energy to try and lock my armbar in. He's so fucking strong, so fucking stubborn. He smashes his head up in desperation, knocking into my nose hard, making it bleed, but grimly, I don't let go. I breath in deep through my mouth, feeling the exhaustion build, but not letting go.

Slowly, I can feel myself starting to overpower his arm. It's not easy, and he fights every inch of the way. I'm wondering if I'm going to have to switch to another attack, when suddenly, as sweat and blood drips off my face, down into his handsome mug, he nods, one word. "Okay".

Instantly, I drop the arm bar, and collapse on top of him, laid out, feeling the bone-deep exhaustion. He pushed me hard... nearly had me with that spike.. I grunt, levering myself up off his chest, lifting my fist and giving Mark a solid fist bump. But I'm raging hard right now, and I before I can think twice, "You have no fucking idea how much I want to be reaming out your ass with my dick right now." I know he's Regiment... I know.. but I felt compelled to let him know what I was thinking. He probably knows already, but I had to say it anyway.

13:08 Sergeant_Mark_Christopher: I look at him, the adrenaline and the testosterone and consider my options. I could nod and tell him I understand, and then tell him to fuck off to go and have a shower, as a senior NCO probably should.

In fact I start even doing that, nodding at him as I lay there on the floor covered in sweat and his blood. "Understood."

He was Blue Troop and I was Red Troop, I wasn't his DIRECT Senior NCO though, that was my mate Thompson.

"We didn't agree to that though. I'll phone David and see what he says though, a promise is a promise."

I look at him and I want him as well. There's no doubt about that. I glance at him lying next to me and I lean over and take his rank insignia off his armour and throw it on the ground, and without taking my eyes off him I do the same. "Lock the door. This remains between us."

13:15 Corporal_Sam_Mason: I'm shocked again at what Mark says next. I know I overstepped myself, and should have probably kept my fat mouth shut, but instead of telling me to fuck off like I was expecting, he tells me he understands.

The shocked look on my face is fucking priceless. I nod at his mention of David, and think that I got off lucky, until suddenly the true shock hits me.

He rips off our insignia. I spring up, all exhaustion fading, to bolt the door shut. I nod. Then, I drop back down on top of him, my heavy gear and body weight sprawled out the length of his body. My heart starts racing, the blood pounding in my veins. The hunger for this mother fucking hard man growing into an inferno. I growl down at him, "You are one helluva hot man, Mark."

Then, I drive my mouth into his, blood and sweat dripping unheeded from my nose and face as I aggressively ram my mouth onto his. Nothing gentle at all about my movements.

13:22 Sergeant_Mark_Christopher: I put my arm around him kissing him back roughly, I was worked up from the fight, and Sam was my type, and I would fucking risk being disciplined for this, but it was consenting and we both wanted this.

I move my lips and tongue into his mouth, about as far from gentle as I can physically get. I know he can take it, but I want to know if he's all talk or whether he's really up to what I like.

The next thing he knows is that he's got Armstrongs knife running across the side of his neck, without me stopping brutally kissing him back from my position lying on the floor.

13:29 Corporal_Sam_Mason: The kiss is hot as fuck, but then things get even hotter when in between one hard, rough kiss and the next his blade is at my throat. I growl deep in my guts, and my cock gets harder. I was hoping he liked it rougher than just wrestling. Now I knew.

This was better than I had hoped. I feel the prick of the blade against my throat as I keep kissing him, not hesitating for a moment. He's got my life in his hands. One small movement, and I'm dead. The thrill of that surges through me, making my nuts churn and my cock twitch.

I reach back with my other hand, behind my shoulders and grab my Glock holstered there. As I do, I deliberately twitch my head, just a bit, pricking my neck to draw a small bead of blood. Then, in the next instant, my Glock is right upside his head, and with a click the safety is disengaged. I use the barrel of the gun at his head to make small circles against his skull.

I break off the kiss for just a moment, my blood dripping down into his face. I whisper, "Brothers... my life is in your hands, Mark... and yours is in mine." My eyes twitch down briefly to the blade at my throat, and I notice the inscription, "Armstrong" I have to remember to ask him about that.

But right now, the lust is surging in my veins. The fatal double threat, the power play making my nuts boil over.

13:38 Sergeant_Mark_Christopher: The gun being next to my head was hot, but then I hear the unmistakable sound of a safety being off and my cock is straining out of my trousers. I look up to him as he speaks and I turn and kiss the hand holding the barrel of the gun, knowing the trigger was sensitive, but the danger is turning me on.

I start to unbuckle Sam's trousers. "Keep your uniform on, but you mention my rank, at all during this, it's over..." That's the one limit I won't cross as I pull Sam's cock out of his trousers and then I slowly move my knife down his body and slide it next to his cock.

My cock is so hard right now, that I think I'm going to shoot before we actually do anything. "This is just fucking foreplay..." I say staring into his eyes. I can see the lust in his eyes and it's the same in mine and I lean forward and slam my lips into his again even as my sharp knife rests on his cock.

13:51 Corporal_Sam_Mason: I grin wide, as he kisses my gun hand. The thrill of mutual power and threat is intoxicating. He moves down and suddenly, my crotch is opened, and he's got his blade resting against my raging erection. The proximity of that blade to my manhood makes me gasp with sheer raging lust. The threat, the danger ... this fucker plays harder than anyone I've ever known.

He said something about rank, but the look I give him is one of sheer disbelief, as though, why the fuck would I ever mention that? This is not about rank... nothing to do with rank, it was about two hard assed SAS Commandos who loved to fight hard, play hard, and fuck hard. He knows it, and so do I.

I stare deep into his eyes, as he stares into mine. We kiss each other again, hard and rough, as my free hand moves down to his crotch, expertly gaining access to his own manhood. I slowly drag my Glock down his body, the barrel clinking the knife that Mark holds next to my cock, leaking pre-cum like a faucet.

Then, I shove the Glock down inside his trousers. The safety is off, and the trigger is sensitive, I maneuver it with deep care, positioning the barrel against his nut, pinning that nut to the floor. Diving deeper into his throat, wanting to cum so bad, my cock is twitching.

14:04 Sergeant_Mark_Christopher: My cock actually leaks all over the glock as I take a deep intake of breath, this is certainly harder than anyone else I've played with including David, it's been a long time since I shot a load without me or the other guy touching my cock, and I may do it here...

My mouth is acting like it's trying to destroy Sam's throat and I bring my knife back up to his throat and slide it right next to it, the steel edge right next to his artery, the only thing stopping him being killed right now is the control I have in my wrist, I can feel myself getting close and I don't actually trust me not to spasm enough to stop myself accidentally doing that and there is a level of danger but there's also the fact that I don't physically want to kill him, just the danger of it.

I drop Armstrong's life to the floor and pull my own glock out and click the safety off and I bring it up his neck to his mouth and stick it right next to his forehead.

I'm looking at him and moving my other hand and grabbing his cock, I can feel it leaking and I grab it hard and squeeze it looking straight into his eyes and my cock starts to shoot in my underwear, all over the glock and Sam's hand. I'm vaguely shocked as no one had actually touched my cock, that's precisely how turned on I am, the gun wavered in my hand but it was still pointed at his head. I wanted to feel his cum over my hand so badly.

We wouldn't get to each other's arse right now, but this was amazing, I could still feel the hot sticky white liquid coming into my boxer shorts, that had never happened before.

Fuck... David was more violent and my lust with him was total, but Sam... fuck Sam knew what buttons to press.

14:43 Corporal_Sam_Mason: My cock is twitching violently, the levels of threat and risk are actually making my balls ache. This is over the top, this is pushing my deepest buttons. My stomach is actually roiling I'm so excited and fucking turned on. Mark is amazing... fucking amazing. Handsome, hard, hot, strong, fit as fuck, turned on by the same hard play I am. A member of the Regiment, like me... FUCK

That blade is back up against my throat, I can feel the very faintest trembling beneath his grip. It's rock steady, despite the slight tremble, but I can see the raw lust in Mark's eyes. Likewise, small tremors are shaking my body, the intensity of the raw lust gripping me is pushing me to new heights.

Suddenly, I feel Mark drop the blade, and suddenly his own Glock journeys up my body, and ends up against my forehead. I moan in total lust, shifting my own Glock dragging it so the barrell is pointed directly against his asshole, the barrel slightly inserting itself up Mark's ass.

Then, suddenly, I feel his hand seize my quivering cock, with an iron hard grip that sends bolts of pure electricity shooting up and down my spine. I stare into his eyes, my hand quivering slightly as I jam the barrel of my Glock up his asshole and as Mark's Glock is write up against my head.

I moan deeply, focusing hard to keep my grip steady, and feel Mark's cock blasting his thick, rich SAS Commando cum all over my own cock and balls.

At the exact same time, my own dick spasms, shooting rope after rope of my seed to coat his hand, dripping down on top of his tactical vest. I moaned, riding that razor's edge of letting my orgasm rip through me while keeping control of my Glock shoved up against Mark's ass.

I gasp starting to come down from that orgasm, gently extricating my Glock from his ass, laying my gun hand to the side, letting myself collapse in total satisfaction, total and complete satisfaction, on top of Mark. My heart is throbbing in the aftermath of that explosive release. My head is spinning. I only just now realize that I came without even having my cock stroked... just Mark's grip was enough... and fuck, Mark shot without me even touching his cock. I was in awe. In total fucking awe.

14:52 Sergeant_Mark_Christopher: That had been fucking amazing. My own boxers were covered in jizz as was Sam's glock... and my tactical vest.

I put my gun down, covered in sweat, and I'll need to clean all my tactical gear before bed, and I turn over and rather unexpectedly kiss Sam again on the lips, before standing up and grabbing my gun back into it's holster and the knife back in it's scabbard and finally my rank insignia which I place back on my uniform.

I put my hand out. "We should clean up and get to bed, Sam." But my eyes don't leave his face. Dripping with blood and sweat I look at him heavily. For the first time after sex I want to say something else.

But in the end I don't and the moment passes and I'm back to my normal self, I head over to the door and unlock it and wait till Sam gets his stuff together and puts his rank back on and then I smile.

"I'll drop my laundry off in your room, make sure it's done before bed." I was a sergeant again now, as if everything hadn't happened.

It had.. I'd process that separately

But it wasn't going to get weird.

15:14 Corporal_Sam_Mason: I was fucking rocked, rocked by the experience I'd just shared with Mark. I was reeling. The connection with Mark was deep... fucking deep.

Then, he rolls over, and I land on the floor next to him, and we kiss again. We break off, and I catch the look in his eyes. I stand, noticing the cum on my Glock, I wipe it off on my tactical vest, next to the cum staining it already. I'll have to clean all my kit before tomorrow. I holster my Glock, then take Mark's hands and stand.

I nod at him as he says that we need to clean up, get to bed. But my eyes don't leave his face. We hold each other's gaze for a long moment. I want to say something... but I can't. I don't have the words for it. Sometimes silence says more than words.

Then, he heads over to the door, and I redo my trousers. The moment passes, leaving me with a heavy load of shit to process. I grab my insignia, replacing it on my battle gear, as Mark does the same.

The moment is over, the door is open again, and we are back to Corporal and Sergeant. I nod as he mentions laundry. Of course, that's my role.

I stand there, staring at the wall for a few moments after he leaves, feeling numb, a bit emotionally overwhelmed. I look down at the concrete, the scuffs. Then, silently, I turn and leave, heading to my room to let this experience sit. It's too big for me to process in one sitting. And besides, I had laundry to clean.
15:30 Sergeant_Mark_Christopher: I'm alone in my room, this place was deep underground so I pull out my laptop and attach it to the secure network and turn it on and send a message to David

Can't Talk... Can't Say Why... But I lost a bet and need a favour, will tell you more next week :)

I close the laptop and take off all my kit and head to the shower, standing there naked, letting the water go all over me, fuck I wasn't used to feeling this way after a shag, not at all. I let the water go all over me before I wrap myself in a towel and grab all my kit and deposit it outside of the Corporal's room.

I stand there about to knock, but I think better of it and drop my hand.

15:51 Corporal_Sam_Mason: I lug my rucksack back to my room, and strip out of my battle gear. I spend some time cleaning off the spunk from my gear, so it's ready for use tomorrow.

Then, I open the door, wearing my skivvies and a t-shirt, my laundry in hand, a towel over my shoulder. I was planning on throwing the laundry in while I showered. There, standing in front of me is Mark, his laundry conveniently dumped on the floor. I feel my guts twist slightly at the sight of him, the intensity of our session slamming back. But I'm a professional, and I don't want things to get weird between us.

So instead of saying what's on my mind, I grin at him, nodding as I see the laundry piled outside my door. I scoop down and pick it up. "I'll have this all cleaned, folded and pressed for you in a jiffy, Mark." I turn to go.

16:04 Sergeant_Mark_Christopher: I look at Sam. "I was dropping off my laundry, I got someone else's blood on me earlier and needed to wash it off," back to my normal self. Because if I don't do that I may say something which I shouldn't.

"Thanks Sam." I'm standing there just in my towel looking at him and I remember every move, every stroke of the gun. I don't say what I want to say though. "I can see why you can't settle down." I say going back to our conversation earlier. "It's the same reason I can't."

"Because who the fuck outside us lot can do something like that and not be expecting the fucking police to turn up."

I look like I'm going to say something else, then turn around and go. "I've emailed David to say I'll chat to him when I've finished my current Op. Don't want you to think that I'm going to stall on my bet."

16:18 Corporal_Sam_Mason: I turn back, looking at Mark. He's in nothing but a towel. This is the first time I've seen his body. And fuck, what a body. Stunning. Hard. His tattoo, everything. I take in his words. He says as much by what he doesn't say as by what he does.

Again, I'm taken by surprise. There is so much more to Mark than meets the eye. Because then he says what he didn't say, out loud. I catch his gaze. I swallow hard. I look down at my skivvies, and I can see that I'm starting to get stiff, and so is he, remembering the knife in his hands against my throat.

I adjust myself, so it's not obvious. I grin as he mentions fulfilling our bet. I nod at him. Suddenly, I feel like a weight has lifted off my chest. I feel like we are going to sort things out between us to our mutual satisfaction. I feel like I've just gained a man who can be my friend, my SAS brother, and a very unique fuck buddy all at the same time.

"The idea of you stalling on your bet, it never even crossed my mind Mark. You aren't that kind of man." I stop, searching for more words. "Thanks Mark." I search his gaze for a moment, then decide I need to say something more. "Thanks for everything."

Then, I start whistling, feeling suddenly on top of the world, as I headed down the corridor to do the laundry and shower.

16:26 Sergeant_Mark_Christopher: It feels a lot there that was unsaid, from both sides. But I wasn't one to worry about things like that, life was too short.

I turn and head back to my room and lay down on the bed naked, and switch off the light, listening in the background to the machinery humming in the walls and I'm asleep a couple of minutes later.

THE NEXT MORNING

I was awake at 5am, and by 5:30 I was dressed and ready for the day's interrogation. I put my full kit on, not because I expected to need it, but it was going to be intimidating for the American and that was a good thing, I adjusted my beret. I make steak for my breakfast, leaving a second one on the side for Sam when he arrives. Then I go and check all my kit one final time and start to head to the interrogation room.

16:38 Corporal_Sam_Mason: I woke up the next morning, at 4:30 am. I'm naturally an early riser. I slip into my combat gear, my load out identical to what I fought Mark in the night before.

I still feel butterflies in my stomach when I think of our session yesterday. But today, it's all about duty. It might not be a very exciting duty, but duty was duty. I headed out to the parking garage, doing a few laps around the perimeter to get my blood flowing, along with some isometric exercises, which work even better with my heavy battle gear. I headed back, checking the time, about 5:45. I hit the canteen, and grin, clearly, Mark had been in here already and left a steak for me. Fuck, what a brother.

I wolf it down, and head to the interrogation room. The interrogation was due to start at 6:30am. I liked being early, and clearly, so did Mark. I nodded at him as I took up station beside him. My assault rifle strapped across my chest. I figured we didn't need to shoot anyone today, but the sight of us in our full battle dress was sure as hell gonna make that American think twice. I glance over at Mark, fuck he was hot. But those kind of thoughts belonged off duty, not on duty. I focused, preparing myself for a boring day of listening to someone scream before we get to put him out of his misery.

16:48 Sergeant_Mark_Christopher: On duty, I nod to Sam, the thoughts banished to the back of my mind, at there's a definite work and non work mode about me, that's the skill to be able to switch things on and off at will.

I put my radio in my ear and put it to a channel passing that information to Sam. I don't think anyone is going to actually call, but procedure is procedure.

06:26 Sergeant_Matt_Lewis: Inside the interrogation room, Matt Lewis sat in handcuffs on the chair, he was fucked off that no-one in the US Government had wondered where he was, and got him extradited... even fucking Ivan could have fucking dealt with these morons.

06:26 Lieutenant_Peter_Edwards: It was precisely 6:30am when Lieutenant Peter Edwards approached the interrogation room. He nodded at Sergeant Mark and Corporal Sam, then unlocked the door to the interrogation room where Matt Lewis was being held. He gestured for Sam and Mark to follow him, indicating that they should take up position on either side of the door. As far as the Lieutenant was concerned, the prime role of Mark and Sam was to look menacing. They were purely for intimidation... and of course, to clean up afterwards.

Without speaking a word, the Lieutenant walks up to the cuffed and secured American, and backhands him savagely across his handsome face. Let the interrogation begin.

06:26 Commander_Jordan_Byrne: I got up early, about 4am, crawling out of my sleeping bag. I dressed quickly, wearing forest Camo, perfect for these mountains, my big frame in heavy combat boots, BDU fatigues, heavy tactical vest, ceramic plated gloves, several knives, one in my boot, my tactical belt, and over my heart, several side arms, Glock 19s, holstered over my hip. I strapped my AK-74 Russian Assault rifle over the heavy body armour covering my chest, and made sure I was loaded down with a set of frag grenades, and a few C4 charges. We weren't coming to capture or take prisoners, we were coming to kill.

At some point, we'd have to go loud, and we might need our Russian RPG-7 at that point, but we'd keep this as quiet as possible for as long as possible.

I scarfed down a few protein bars to give me the energy I'd need for today's fun and games. And brought along a few "pep" pills for some extra energy. These fecking hard-asses were SAS, and I wanted to give us every advantage we could before taking on these gobshites. They were hard men, every single fucking one.

Today, me and Kurt though, we had to be harder. I passed the time reviewing our battle plans, and soaking up as much calm as I could. I'd be running on adrenaline for the rest of the day no doubt.

I checked my watch, it was 6:30am. Time to start. We had located the underground power cable that linked the facility to the national grid. First step, cut the line. I had a massive pair of oversized sheers, strong enough to practically sheer a tree in two, held in my hands. I had told Kurt to get into position and be on the lookout for a column of diesel smoke once I cut the power.

I dug a hole until I found the buried power cable, then maneuvered the massive shears in place. I grinned, took a deep breath, put on some massive, insulated rubber gloves, and kicked everything off, my arms flexed, muscles rippling, and then... CLLLLUNKKKKKKk The cable snapped in two, the live end sending out savage sparks.

Acting quickly, I buried the severed cable again, smoothing out the ground, and spreading the fallen leaves to make it look as natural as I could. No one was going to find where we'd severed the cable in a hurry. Then, double-time, I marched to find Kurt and see if we were ready for the next phase of our plan to kill that Syndicate captive before he spilled the beans.

09:39 Sergeant_Matt_Lewis: Matt's neck slammed backwards and he then lent forward and spat at Edwards. "What's this bad cop, worse cop, ugly cop," he said looking at the three of them. He glared at Mark. "Oi... I know you fucker," said the Texan. "Dipshit SAS wanker."

Mark just glare back and put his hand on his assault rifle looking directly at me. Fucker.

09:39 Kurt_Davids: I look through the binoculars scanning the cold landscape in the early dawn sun - I had saved Jordan's life from these bastards and was eager to take a few down today. It wasn't going to be easy but if live was easy it wasn't worth living.

I was lying there is heavy body armour, a significant amount of weapons strapped to me, you can never have too many, a shotgun on my back, fragmentation grenades, thermite for locked doors and C4... this guy they'd captured, they'd obviously been worried he was flakey and would talk. He was a weak American who probably was sitting in a nice comfy cell now selling secrets, it would be a pleasure to kill him.

I continue scanning the landscape and see a small amount of black smoke coming from somewhere in the trees, I pull my radio out. "Boss man... I've got the exhaust pipe."

09:39 Sergeant_Mark_Christopher: The lights flickered and then went out... followed a few seconds later by them coming back on again. This was par for this course in this place... the heating had woken me up twice last night, then the generator kicked in and the lights came back on.

I didn't even roll my eyes at this and glared at the prisoner.

10:28 Lieutenant_Peter_Edwards: Lieutenant Peter ignores Matt's back talk, at least he seems to ignore it.

But he reaches down to his tactical belt and pulls out his sidearm. He points it at Matt's knee, and fires, the bullet smashing into the American's knee cap, shattering it instantly in a spray of blood. Then he reaches forward and grabs Matt's chin in his other hand. He spits in Matt's face, his features twisted into a look of utter contempt.

"That was a very funny joke, Matt. Do you have any more you'd like to share?
I am not here to fuck around. You attempted to assassinate Alexander Hammerstone. Your life is forfeit. Unless you want me to introduce you to entire new worlds of never ending agony, you are going to talk. You are going to tell us everything you know about the Syndicate. Who you work with, contacts, plans. Everything."

10:28 Corporal_Sam_Mason: I wanted to grin, enjoying the show, but kept my expression fierce and hard, glaring at the weak assed American. I liked the Lieutenant's style. He wasn't fucking around.

The lights flickered, but shortly came back on, accompanied by the rumble of a diesel generator in the distance. This place was ancient, not surprised at a power disruption. It's expected.

06:26 Commander_Jordan_Byrne: As I start heading back towards Kurt's position, my radio comes alive. I grin.

I love it when a plan comes together. I swing by our camp, and pick up my little gift. A five gallon container of petrol. I trot up, lugging the petrol.

I follow Kurt as he leads us to the exhaust vent, carefully navigating our way through the woods and undergrowth. The column of diesel smoke wasn't visible under the canopy of the trees, but Kurt had an incredible sense of direction, he was a real skilled outdoorsman, a legacy of his JTF-2 background.

After about a 15 minute hike, he unfailingly leads me to the small, inconspicuous exhaust vent nestled into the hillside. I speak up, keeping my voice quiet, "Good work Kurt, now go get eyes on the entrance to the facility, let me know what activity our little ... gift .. causes, but try not to engage until I can join you."

I wait about two minutes as Kurt gets into position. Then, once I receive the go ahead from Kurt, I grin again. This was going to be all kinds of fucking fun. I take the five gallons of petrol, position the spout over the vent, and with a grunt of muscle, I heft up the heavy container, pouring five gallons of petrol down the generator exhaust vent.

The results... were spectacular. There was a distant, muffled, BOOOOOOOOOOM, and some flames shot up out of the exhaust vent, followed by a thick black column of smoke.

Quickly, I head down the hill to rejoin Kurt. With any luck, the feckers down in their little rabbit hole will suspect catastrophic equipment failure rather than sabotage.

10:42 Sergeant_Matt_Lewis: Matt screamed in pain. "FUCK... FUCK... FUCK...." he said his face going white in pain, ultimately he wasn't willing to die for his principles and these people aren't messing around. "They offered five million for him. We couldn't fucking refuse that..."

10:42 Sergeant_Mark_Christopher: I had no sympathy for the American at all, I think the lieutenant is being a bit kind, I'd have done both keepcaps, but as I'm imagining what I'd do to him, there is a sound in the distance of an explosion, that was definitely not faulty wiring I can't imagine this place is THAT badly maintained.... although it wasn't brilliant ... and the lights went out.. for good this time...

I switch on the torch on the side of my assault rifle and it lights up the room. "Lieutenant?" I asked. Ultimately he's in charge here right now.

11:40 Lieutenant_Peter_Edwards: Lieutenant Peter Edwards looks down at the weak American with a look of utter contempt. Pathetic. He listened to Matt start babbling, then suddenly there is an explosion that rocks the room, concrete dust sifts down from the ceilings as the lights go out, plunging the room into darkness.

The Lieutenant turns towards Mark, snapping out his order, "Maintain your post here, guard the prisoner. I need to go find out what the fuck is going on. Be on full alert troopers. As unlikely as it is, this could be an attack."

Which should be impossible. The location of this facility was one of the most closely guarded secrets in the SAS. If it was the prelude to some kind of attack... well fuck. This place only had five other men on site at the moment, excluding Sergeant Mark and Corporal Sam.

The Lieutenant made his way by memory through the darkened corridors to a supply closet where he picked up an electric torch. He headed to the physical plant, where the door lay wrenched off its hinges, a bright orange glow illuminating the corridor. The heat was extreme, but at least the smoke seemed to be venting somewhere. He was confronted by a raging inferno.

The generator was a pile of burning wreckage. WHAT THE FUCK? This was no accident. The dead body of the facility's engineer, Sergeant McAlistair lay in a burnt, broken, twisted heap against the wall near the door. Cursing to himself, the Lieutenant dragged the dead man out of the room, receiving blistering burns on his face from his brief journey to retrieve the man.

He needed information. Now. Out of the remaining staff, there was a medic, a communications specialist, a cook, and a sniper-scout, here on temporary assignment. He barked out over his radio, sending out orders. All of them were SAS, all of them were exceptional soldiers, but Private Greg Johnson, the cook, and Sergeant Travis Manning, the sniper-scout were the most logical to send out to guard the entrance. "Private Johnson, Sergeant Travis, secure the entrance on the double. Lock the doors on your way."

Normally, the CCTV would be monitored by the communications specialist, but obviously that wasn't in the cards. He was worried though. Deeply worried. This felt wrong. There was another secondary explosion from the room behind him, rocking the facility. FUCK.. That was undoubtedly the diesel jugs in the room next door. Then he realized how close those jugs were to the main diesel fuel tank. If they went up... The diesel fuel tanks... FUCK. They had to put the fire out now. He barked out more orders, ordering the medic and the communications specialist, "Corporal Pennycook, Sergeant Richardson, bring fire extinguishers, on the double, NOW."

Grimly, he stood by to monitor the fire, barking off two more orders, "Sergeant Christopher, Corporal Mason, you are to maintain your position, and you are to keep Matt Lewis alive at all costs." I shut down the connection. I didn't need to state the obvious, that I suspected an attack or a rescue attempt.

11:40 Corporal_Sam_Mason: I looked over at Mark, as the order came through. We were to keep this American scumbag alive. Which implied that the Lieutenant obviously thought someone other than us wanted him dead. Well ... today was going to be a lot more interesting than I first thought. I catch Mark's eyes, in the light of the torch on the ends of our assault rifles. My expression was hard as steel.

11:40 Sergeant_Travis_Manning: He had been in his room, kitting himself out. He was planning on heading above ground, to practice some shooting and check out the campground a mile away. The SAS had a sniper training camp there, and a group of soldiers was due there in the next few days. None of them had any clue about this facility. Sergeant Travis was one of the few cleared to know about it's existence. He'd helped with ... interrogations here before.

When the explosions rocked the facility, he was already geared up and ready to go. He wasn't in full battle gear, he hadn't brought any here, but he was in forest camo, and he carried a side arm on his tactical belt as well as his L115A1 Sniper Rifle slung over his shoulder. He received the orders grimly.

Being highly trained, he reacted instantly, grabbing an electric torch and lighting his way through the dark corridors, heading towards the garage and the main door that led outside.

11:40 Private_Greg_Johnson: He was here just to be the cook for the facility, which he fucking hated, but hey, duty was duty. Someone needs to make the Officer's meals. He was in the canteen wondering what the fuck had happened to the rib eye steaks that had been put aside for Lieutenant Edwards when the power went out.

The explosion was savage. Were we under fucking attack? Then, the radio squawked, and he responded instantly. He felt that surge of adrenaline hit his veins as he got his orders. This was like being in Afghanistan all over again. Grimly, the SAS private gathered his assault rifle, and slipped on a tactical vest over his duty uniform. He headed out to the garage to meet Sergeant Travis. He locked the big safety doors behind him as he went, two of them in total.

The main doors leading outside were rolled shut. They had no power. They had to be opened manually. Grimly, the Private swallowed to himself. They were blind on what was going on outside. This was risky as fucking hell. But they were SAS. Besides, he had body armour, but the Sergeant didn't. He said, "Step back Sgt, I've got this." As he started cranking the handle to roll the door up, those turned out to be the last words he ever said.

11:40 Sergeant_Travis_Manning: The Sergeant almost corrected the Private, but he instantly saw the sense in not making himself a target. He backed up, and hid behind the supply truck. He covered the big roll up door with his sniper rifle, ready.

06:26 Commander_Jordan_Byrne: We were hidden in a clump of bushes, able to see into the abandoned mine shaft, looking onto a huge rollup door.

I confer with Kurt. It was time now, to go loud. I was pretty sure that the fuckers would send out a team to scout. That's what I was waiting for.

I knew the facility was lightly manned... well, now it was time to make it even lighter on manpower. He hefted the big Russian RPG-7 and pointed it at the roll up door. He told Kurt, "Cover me Kurt, in case there are any survivors, I want you to deal with them." Then, the roll up door started to creak. Jordan grinned, and fired. The Russian RPG rocket slammed into the door, exploding, ripping through the sheet metal like a hot knife through butter, the fragments of sheet metal driving themselves into Private Greg's neck, killing him instantly, flinging his body halfway across the garage in a spray of gore.

12:51 Sergeant_Matt_Lewis: Matt looked up from trying to stem the blood from his knee to the other two. "You're fucked now... They're my fucking friends coming to get me... You're so fucking fucked you SAS fucking cocksucking faggots." He snarled at the two of them.

12:51 Sergeant_Mark_Christopher: I look at him, "Hey... I wouldn't be so fucking sure. You're a fucking liability to them, you've been captured for how long, and they probably want to shut you up... one fucking bullet and you started talking."

"And I bet they know that, Tex, I bet they fucking know you'll blabber like a fucking turkey - so shut the fuck up. We have instructions to keep you alive, so we will, and you better fucking shut the fuck up."

"Corporal, bandage his leg. We can't have him bleeding out." I open the door and keep watch on the corridor, as another massive explosion thunders through the base.

13:33 Kurt_Davids: Kurt took his shotgun off his back and walked towards the door with the gaping hole in it from the RPG, throwing two fragmentation grenades in through the hole, looking at the gap which had been made when the door started to open.

"On it boss," I say as I head inside the moment the grenades exploded, hoping to shoot some cowering SAS cowards right in the face.

13:33 Corporal_Sam_Mason: I looked over at Mark, nodding. I step forward. We didn't have a medkit in the interrogation room. We were under orders to stay here, so that meant improvising.

I had nothing but contempt for this American. What a fucking weak-assed stupid as shit waste of space. I approached him, whipping out my combat knife, my eyes full of scorn for him. I sneered at him, but kept my mouth shut. I used my blade to cut a long strip out of his trousers, and quickly tied it around his leg, just above the knee to make a tourniquet.

I "accidently" nicked him as I cut the strip off. He wouldn't bleed out now, at least. Then, with an evil grin, I turn to Mark, "Sergeant? Should I ... disinfect his wound?" Every human being has some natural disinfectant...

There was another explosion, and I looked up, soberly. This might get dicey.

Published: 2021-08-02, viewed 34 times.