Scarlet Rendezvous - Sex Stories

Scarlet Rendezvous

... the U.S. was planning its troop withdrawal. There was a lot of shady shit going down at the time, not only between rebel groups and the United States, but also between these groups and Russian gun runners. There was one group of Russian arms dealers in particular that the U.S. government wanted put out of business, and Rick and I were tasked with leading an offensive to shut this group down.

And we did. Big time. We hit them twice -- once confiscating a batch of Russian weapons worth about $500,000, the second time taking $2 million worth of assault rifles.

Needless to say, they weren't happy. They put a bounty on both our heads, pasting our picture everywhere. Things got really bad, really fast. Rick and I knew it was getting extremely dangerous, and that it was only a matter of time before these guys got to us. Our contract required us to stay in Afghanistan supporting the military for another two months. But we made a pact. This was it. The last job. In two months, we would leave that part of the world and never go back.

A week later, Rick got kidnapped. It was a total sellout move by an Afghan local we trusted and had known for nearly a year. He lured Rick into an alley, pretending to be hit with an IED. The alley seemed to be empty. The Afghan -- his name was Muzafar -- was screaming and calling for help. Rick knew better than to go over to him. It wasn't safe. But he did anyway, I have no idea why. Two trucks came around the corner and started firing. We all ...

... took cover. Someone threw a grenade. There was smoke and shrapnel. More machine guns fired. The trucks drove away.

There was a sniper on one of the roofs, pinning us down. By the time we shot our way out the trucks had disappeared out of town and into some mountains.

Rick was gone. I was stunned, uncomprehending. Did that just happen?

It did happen. The next three weeks were the worst of my life. The kidnappers wanted their guns back. They also wanted cash, an additional $3 million in American dollars, as interest. I thought of putting up my share of the money our security company had made to pay the ransom and get him back. It didn't work out. It was now a matter for the U.S. government, and I was told I had to stand down and play by the book. It was political, and there may have been things that the higher ups didn't want coming out. Negotiations failed. The U.S. military couldn't find him. Not the army, not the SEALs. Not my guys in our security outfit.

They ended up killing Rick, cutting off his head and hanging his body off a bridge in a small village in Kunar. They took a video of it, and published it on the internet. I vividly remember getting a notification from the military that there was a video, and that I could see it if I wanted. I refused to watch it. Strangely, this seemed to make things worse. My imagination went into overdrive. I couldn't turn off my brain, or the never-ending flurry of images running through my mind. I drove myself insane picturing ...