captain_bond
Fuck Donald Trump
- Joined
- Dec 30, 2020
- Location
- Pittsburgh, PA, USA
Chapter 1: The Rescue
One quiet day, in a small town in rural America, it looked like a small army was descending on, and surrounding an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts. Men and women dressed in olive drab, wearing helmets and body armor emblazoned with the letters “FBI” and wielding assault rifles and shotguns stacked up on the entrances. A muscle-bound, brown-haired man in a black polo shirt, khaki cargo pants, and holding a Sig-Sauer handgun signaled the men closest to the doors to set the breaching charges, as he was positioned at the back of one of these groups. “FEDERAL AGENTS!”, FBI Special Agent Sean Wilson--the man in plain clothes--shouted at the top of his lungs, the charges going off and the men and women pouring into the warehouse. The occupants, a group of notorious human traffickers, refused to go quietly as they began to take shots at the unwelcome law enforcement presence, but their aim was scattered and they were quickly brought down by Sean’s team. Several other would-be gunmen emerged from the back room with hands raised, but when they were ordered to drop to their knees, they refused.
A man behind the row of surrendering people held a gun to the head of a young freckled redhead girl in her late teens or early twenties, it was hard to tell from the dirt and grime smeared over her face. She was fully nude, looking like she'd not even seen a razor in years, and it seemed she'd not had a shower in a while either. “I was just about to sell this one!”, the hostage-taker shouted. “My men and I were soooo tempted to just take her, but no one wants spoiled goods, uh-uh! So we waited, and waited, but YOU HAD TO COME AND FUCK IT UP! So here’s what’s gonna happen. You’re gonna let me and my little morsel walk out of here. Otherwise, well, my finger just might slip. You have until the count of ten.”
The row of human shields and the way the man hid behind the girl prevented any of the SWAT agents from having a clean shot. But one of them, who had previously held a rifle, had now drawn his handgun, the larger weapon nowhere to be seen. Sean had used the chaos to grab his teammate’s rifle and climb up to the catwalks without being seen, and he now had a clear line of fire as the half-crazed ringleader counted down from, “Ten, nine, eight, sev–” BANG! The single shot echoed through the confined space as the man who held the gun against the girl’s head dropped to the floor in a heap, his underlings ceding defeat and dropping to their knees. Meanwhile the hostage fell to the floor as well, but from exhaustion and emotional stress. One of the female agents draped a blanket around her, and several other victims were found in the back room, all naked and dirty but otherwise in relatively good health, physically at least.
Sean, meanwhile, climbed down from the catwalks and as soon as the redhead saw him, she ran across the warehouse, tossing the blanket off of her and forgetting for a moment that she had no clothes on as she wrapped her arms around him. The young woman was none other than his best friend, Sarah Jane Foster, and he was so very happy to see her, giving her an enthusiastic hug in return. “Sarah,” he breathed out and she started sobbing into his Kevlar vest. “Oh, Sean, I had almost given up. I had almost…if you hadn’t have come when you did…” Sean held her tightly and said, “I could never give up on my best friend. You’re the reason I’m wearing this,” he said, reaching down and tapping the gold badge that was clipped to his belt. “You mean…when I was snatched all those years ago…?” “Yeah, that was my defining moment. I joined the FBI hoping to have a chance to rescue you.” Sarah hugged him tighter and cried more, the female agent from before bringing the blanket over. “You two know each other?”, she asked, taking off her helmet and holding it against her hip. “Yeah. She’s my best friend in the whole world, and the reason I became an agent.” The two finally disentangled themselves from each other and Sean wrapped Sarah in the blanket. “I’ll let you two catch up,” the other agent said and walked off. “You know, Sean, I thought I’d need months of therapy if I was ever rescued from this hell. But I have a feeling that as long as you’re here, I’ll be okay.” Sean smiled at her, but secretly he hoped he’d be up for that sort of pressure…and he also hoped that the sight of her naked body arousing him to an unimaginable degree would not come back to haunt him later. Sarah, meanwhile, wouldn't trust anyone else to even touch her for a while, so she hoped Sean would stick around for a while at least.
One quiet day, in a small town in rural America, it looked like a small army was descending on, and surrounding an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts. Men and women dressed in olive drab, wearing helmets and body armor emblazoned with the letters “FBI” and wielding assault rifles and shotguns stacked up on the entrances. A muscle-bound, brown-haired man in a black polo shirt, khaki cargo pants, and holding a Sig-Sauer handgun signaled the men closest to the doors to set the breaching charges, as he was positioned at the back of one of these groups. “FEDERAL AGENTS!”, FBI Special Agent Sean Wilson--the man in plain clothes--shouted at the top of his lungs, the charges going off and the men and women pouring into the warehouse. The occupants, a group of notorious human traffickers, refused to go quietly as they began to take shots at the unwelcome law enforcement presence, but their aim was scattered and they were quickly brought down by Sean’s team. Several other would-be gunmen emerged from the back room with hands raised, but when they were ordered to drop to their knees, they refused.
A man behind the row of surrendering people held a gun to the head of a young freckled redhead girl in her late teens or early twenties, it was hard to tell from the dirt and grime smeared over her face. She was fully nude, looking like she'd not even seen a razor in years, and it seemed she'd not had a shower in a while either. “I was just about to sell this one!”, the hostage-taker shouted. “My men and I were soooo tempted to just take her, but no one wants spoiled goods, uh-uh! So we waited, and waited, but YOU HAD TO COME AND FUCK IT UP! So here’s what’s gonna happen. You’re gonna let me and my little morsel walk out of here. Otherwise, well, my finger just might slip. You have until the count of ten.”
The row of human shields and the way the man hid behind the girl prevented any of the SWAT agents from having a clean shot. But one of them, who had previously held a rifle, had now drawn his handgun, the larger weapon nowhere to be seen. Sean had used the chaos to grab his teammate’s rifle and climb up to the catwalks without being seen, and he now had a clear line of fire as the half-crazed ringleader counted down from, “Ten, nine, eight, sev–” BANG! The single shot echoed through the confined space as the man who held the gun against the girl’s head dropped to the floor in a heap, his underlings ceding defeat and dropping to their knees. Meanwhile the hostage fell to the floor as well, but from exhaustion and emotional stress. One of the female agents draped a blanket around her, and several other victims were found in the back room, all naked and dirty but otherwise in relatively good health, physically at least.
Sean, meanwhile, climbed down from the catwalks and as soon as the redhead saw him, she ran across the warehouse, tossing the blanket off of her and forgetting for a moment that she had no clothes on as she wrapped her arms around him. The young woman was none other than his best friend, Sarah Jane Foster, and he was so very happy to see her, giving her an enthusiastic hug in return. “Sarah,” he breathed out and she started sobbing into his Kevlar vest. “Oh, Sean, I had almost given up. I had almost…if you hadn’t have come when you did…” Sean held her tightly and said, “I could never give up on my best friend. You’re the reason I’m wearing this,” he said, reaching down and tapping the gold badge that was clipped to his belt. “You mean…when I was snatched all those years ago…?” “Yeah, that was my defining moment. I joined the FBI hoping to have a chance to rescue you.” Sarah hugged him tighter and cried more, the female agent from before bringing the blanket over. “You two know each other?”, she asked, taking off her helmet and holding it against her hip. “Yeah. She’s my best friend in the whole world, and the reason I became an agent.” The two finally disentangled themselves from each other and Sean wrapped Sarah in the blanket. “I’ll let you two catch up,” the other agent said and walked off. “You know, Sean, I thought I’d need months of therapy if I was ever rescued from this hell. But I have a feeling that as long as you’re here, I’ll be okay.” Sean smiled at her, but secretly he hoped he’d be up for that sort of pressure…and he also hoped that the sight of her naked body arousing him to an unimaginable degree would not come back to haunt him later. Sarah, meanwhile, wouldn't trust anyone else to even touch her for a while, so she hoped Sean would stick around for a while at least.
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