Book 1: The Rebirth of the Aztecs

Chapter 3 Part 2: Assassin's Tango

“Well, I would. You’ve been through enough. Our intel guys are very good at their jobs. I know your family was massacred on your grandpa's farm before you could relocate to New Rhodesia. That said, for the sake of the good Sergeant, I can’t let you kill me or try to stick any of my guys so drop the blades.” Drake drew his mini 5.7 pistol out to further his point. Beatrice looked distraught in response as she gazed down upon her knives. Lord almighty you would’ve thought he’d told her to abandon her cat or something.

“You can have the fancy knives when we drop you off. Just put them in the safe, and lock them up for now. I’ve already changed the combination by the way so don’t get any funny ideas.” Drake watched the woman stomp over to a mirror hanging over the dresser area built into the side of the cabin walls. Opening the mirror she whipped open the safe, and then gently settled the gleaming blades inside.

“Hold the door,” Drake said, getting the stink eye from the half naked woman,” All of them.”

Stoneman had no idea if this crazy lady had any more weapons stuffed away, but at this point he wasn’t taking any chances. That switch blade had been an actual shock to his system. He half expected a katana to materialize out of her mouth next.

Making a tsk sound Beatrice pulled the pair of chopsticks holding her blond locks out of her face. Then it hit the pirate. Those weren’t chopsticks, but pointed and sharped industrial nails fashioned to look like Chinese cultural appropriation. The angry looking spikes clanged into the safe next.

“All of it.”

“That is all of it pirate boy.”

“I’m going to need proof.”

“I stopped trying to kill you after Captain Clint cannon balled into the chum bucket.”

“So you are hiding more,” Beatrice rolled her eyes in exasperation at Drake’s deduction, and slammed the safe shut then locked it. Suddenly, a mischievous look came over her face.

“I know how I can prove I’m out of knives,” Drake cursed as the lingerie flew off the woman in a flash, and landed on his face blocking his vision. If he died in such a situation without getting a shot off, and without securing the ship in a friendly port Sarge was going to bring him back from the dead to kill him with naked chicks till he never looked at another woman again. Then let the short lived pirate Captain die for good.

To Drake’s surprise, when he pulled at the trigger the stubborn piece of expensive custom metal refused to squeeze. A fleeting image of his hand showed him the problem. There was a knife blade jammed between his trigger and the trigger guard preventing the depression of the mechanism. This particular knife was only two inches long, tanto in style, and had no handle except for tight black ripcord wrapped around the bottom part of the solid slick piece of metal. He might die, but Drake really hoped Beatrice would take a second to tell him where she’d hidden that thing.

Still, a Stoneman was a stubborn man. This wasn’t going to be that easy.

Drake twisted his gun, getting a grunt out of the nude assassin as the knife was ripped out of her grip. The wild all natural female answered by backhanding the side arm right out of the backpedaling pirate’s hand, and both weapons flew into the head well out of reach of the struggle. Pity the Catalina gunsmiths were so proficient. An accidental discharge might have made enough noise to get some reinforcements.

Taking the initiative, Drake made full use of his height and strength latching onto the smaller very naked woman. The nudist had apparently had some training in grappling as well which made dominating her far more difficult than expected. The struggle led to the pair collapsing back on the bed in a tangle of flailing limbs. Stoneman was just starting to leverage his strength and experience to break out of the nature woman’s anaconda squeeze around his neck with her thighs when the door to the cabin burst open.

In lept the good sergeant with his AN94 at the ready. Drake instantly started slapping the shapely legs around his neck, and began attempting to wheeze out a cry for help. To the Pirate Captain’s continued frustration, Reynolds didn’t provide any reinforcements. Instead the man rolled his eyes and slung his rifle in irritation.

“Will you two take the noise level of this illicit lovemaking down a peg or two? It’s embarrassing trying to keep the men back. God have mercy!” With that cry of frustration Don slammed the door again to Drake’s shock. Sure, his head was in a very compromised position, but he was obviously being strangled.

Laughter started to fill the room again, and the struggling pirate looked up past the distracting bits of the nudist lack of attire to see his assailant beginning to crack up. Going on instinct Drake proceeded to tickle the woman’s feet until her legs loosen, and instantly kicked him in the chest. Only it didn’t hurt. Was this wildcat playing with him? Taking a moment to get some proper revenge Drake took advantage of the intel he’d just gathered to tickle the crazy lady’s feet till she squealed like a teenager at a boy band concert.

“Pirate! Stop!”

“Stop what?”

“Not my feet you idiot!”

“Ms. Twinkle toes,” Drake said as he began a wave of tickling that would be considered torture in some parts of the world.

Eventually, Drake started laughing too, and they proceeded to assault each other in similar fashion for the next ten minutes or so before both of them collapsed on the bed panting and sweating. Next thing the pirate knew a final knife was against his neck, and then was thrown into the washroom to more laughter. The body tape that had held the blade to just below the woman’s buttocks came off next.

“Now I don’t have any more knives, pirate boy.” Drake looked into Beatrice’s dreamy blue eyes, and saw she wasn’t lying or acting this time.

“I think I believe you crazy lady.”

“What’s your name Pirate?” The ex marine hesitated as he thought about his answer. She could still be working an angle trying to get his identity, but why bother if she could’ve killed him with that last knife when he wasn’t ready? Stoneman decided to take a risk. She was owed an answer after this wild game she’d played with him.

“Drake.”

“Shutup. That was your real name?”

“Yep, it’s the name God inspired my mother to name me.”

“A pirate captain named Drake. History really does repeat itself,” Beatrice said as she snuggled into her captor’s arms like he hadn’t held her hostage for the last day and a half. This had to be what they called Stockholm Syndrome, but Drake didn’t care anymore.

A man only had so much willpower to resist a gorgeous woman. The rest of the night was far more pleasant than the new Pirate Captain had expected. Not to mention exhausting.

The Story Will Continue Every Monday

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