See how I blend into another culture.
We flew low over Slavistan to avoid radar contact though the whole bloody cuntryside could hear and see us, luckily cell phones weren't widely very available back then. The Spooks on board eyed me suspiciously, they were getting out when the plane landed in Turkey with their gagged, blindfolded and trussed up cargo. They didn't ask me questions and I didn't ask them any.
The Crew chief carefully made his way to the back of the Globemaster and told me to get ready to jump. I didn't use a parachute like the soft fuckers did, I dooned a bottle of beat the wife to loosen up and hoped that God would catch me in his sweet and gentle embrace.
That jump is a little hazy to this day but I remember having second thoughts just as the bay door opened.
As Alexander the great once said, "curry flavours the bald" I ran and leapt into the icy cold air, as I was hurtling towards some tree tops I remembered that my Colonel said I was expendable, fuck! I had thought he said dependable.
When I get a second wee dialog going on in my head I tend to miss what people are saying to me or sometimes I'm thinking about the theme to Scooby Doo and the next thing you know I'm married or have agreed to rub someone's bunions .
The trees didn't feel as lush and fluffy as they looked from the air but they did break my fall, and some ribs, lucky I had some spare.
I checked my map under the nearly full moon, I had 10 miles to do in cross cuntry and had two hours to do it in.
As I moved as quickly as I could over rough terrain with poor light I heard some male voices up ahead. I stopped, quietly moving to a tree for cover. Three males in a mix of civilian and military clothing with rifles slung over their shoulders passed me by 12 feet away, they were durty swarthy types so probably didn't notice my scent of alcohol, piss and stale cum.
Why where they out in the middle of nowhere? probably just looking for sheep to bum. Once clear I pressed on, my animal senses alert to every sound my inner eye reaching out like psychic radar to warn me if someone awaited me in the dark.
After 5 hours I reached my objective, the picnic and nap that I wasn't supposed to have did me good, olives are kind of salty yet metallic, very odd, I'd be burping them up for hours to come.
A grand two story hoose with thick brown tiles on the roof and ornate eaves, a small wall surrounded it and according to intel there would be two sentries on the wall at all times.
I ghost walked towards the complex with my Sterling submachine gun at the ready, the suppressed version of course, now would not be a great time to fire it though as it was a still and silence darkness. Closer is always better.
The nearest sentry was day dreaming and probably didn't even register the grab around the mouth and the thrust of the knife being pushed up into his kidneys. I propped him up and headed along the inner wall using the shadows as I headed towards the main building.
I was excited, tired and a little itchy ... fucking allergies. Gaining entry to the main house from the kitchen I could hear the snoring of the guards from doon the hall. No one expected company, this was their home turf where they beheaded people who didn't show enough respect. No one ever expects The Company.
It was a big hoose and if I wasn't on business I'd be taking some of the nice shit they have. The stairs were solid, I just had to remember which room was which, the drawing that our operative had done of the layout missed a lot of detail... like about 4 various doors and an alcove.
The room up ahead was his bedroom which he shared with a lovely lady 20 years his junior. I slowly opened the door and went to the bed, only the gurl was there, my mind was racing where could he be at 3:15am oh look she's not bad is she? .... focus focus.
His study of course. I went back to the hall way and orientated myself to find his study. In the near total darkness I could see it was a very solid door with panels and metal studs, I really liked what he had done with the place. From under the door I could see a faint light, a reading lamp maybe?
The door was heavy and as I opened it my eyes stung in the dim light. He was sitting at his desk, his head propped up by his hand, he must have been leaning on the table writing something and dozed off as his pen was balancing loosely in his other hand.
I had a picture of him taped to the inside of my wrist, it was him. Should I wake him? If someone dies in their sleep do they know they are dead?
He might call out if I wake him, the power of life and death was with me, I felt like a god, "are you going to kill me or just watch me sleeping? it's really quite creepy."
He had just spoiled my moment, "sorry Sahabbi old chap, this isn't personal" I put one between his eyes, the clank of the bolt broke the silence, I paused with my head cocked, nope I was clear.
He was dead, job well done. I had time to look through his desk and collected some little books with some barbaric scribbling in them, the romance languages were my thing all this ach ne aba allah shite was gibberish, luckily these Mooslims are too poorly organised to be of any great threat to the world.
I went back into the bedroom for another long look at yon lass and wiped it off on his velvet curtains, consider it my calling card ..... later I discovered that the Russians had made clones out of my other calling cards and made an army to kill me, that would be 20 years later as at this time no one knew about that sort of stuff, it was science fiction.
It really was darkest before the dawn, I seemed less agile and more clumsy on my hike away from the complex. I was to make my own way to a safe port, like the colonel had said, "expendable."
I don't know when the body was discovered I bet the sentry was found first. I caught and skinned an elderly farmer and wore his skin as a disguise for three weeks as I made my way out .... well I lived with his wife for two of those weeks, she nagged something rotten but could really cook and was a sex machine for someone in her early 90's, she may have figured things out when I couldn't speak the lingo we'll never know.
I got to a friendly port and then back to the office in Poland, they really did not expect me back and meeting my younger, taller over educated replacement was quite awkward, I got a swift promotion to the office in Somalia, in yer face new boy.
Sometimes in the wee hours of the morning as I start to sober up I am hit by regrets ... I regret I had not labeled all the panties I had stolen from my jobs, ach we all have regrets.
"MILF" the wet dream weaver, she can turn the friends of her son into babbling idiots and invade their dreams at night disappearing by morning leaving only a sticky wet patch on the sheets.
