The Last Amazon Warrior Women Book 1 – Merchants of Death – Chapter 3 … Military intelligence
TWENTY-FOUR HOURS LATER
Vincent and his team returned to Nigeria nine days earlier than scheduled.
Their plane touched down at the international airport in the nation’s capital city, Abuja, at about 9 a.m. in the morning and local security agents were on ground to take the diplomat off their hands.
A military van was waiting to convey the Special Forces team of seven men down-town to Military Intelligence headquarters while a military ambulance was there to take the eighth member of the team straight to the hospital.
The man was injured but not in critical condition and the Tunisians had already treated most of his wounds. He merely needed a little chest surgery and then some rest to heal. Vincent was sure he would be fine.
Once at Military Intelligence headquarters, each member of the team had been put in a separate room and debriefed for hours. Vincent, as the leader, had it worse. He was debriefed for six hours straight without anyone giving a shit about the fact that he hadn’t had a real meal or slept in nearly three days.
Top level Intelligence work was no joke, but it sure as hell was more interesting than most, thought Vincent when he finally stepped through the wide glass front doors of the ten-story main building of the Military Intelligence headquarters complex into the evening sun and headed across the square to the parking lot where his car waited.
At the main gates of the high-security complex, while other vehicles were being thoroughly searched by heavily-armed security personnel, Vincent’s dark-windowed, black Honda Accord car, which bore a special license plate, was recognized and waved through unbothered.
It was four o’clock in the evening now and the city’s rush hour was still far off so traffic was light on the roads as Vincent headed for home. His place was only twenty minutes away from Military Intelligence headquarters and his wife was sure to be home, but he made a stop at a nice restaurant to get a good meal first. Vincent had been married for almost a year now and he loved his beautiful wife, but she had her flaws and one of them was cooking. Belinda couldn’t cook well despite all the effort she put in it and he was too starved to pretend to be enjoying one of her meals.
Once done with the meal, Vincent headed straight for home, driving quickly. He had been away for nearly a month now and the yearning for Belinda’s soft, rich body and touch was overwhelming. Belinda may be a bad cook, but she more than compensated for that with her abilities in bed. Belinda was very good in bed, she had a big plus in that area.
Vincent’s home was a nice three-bedroom house in an exclusive housing estate with adequate security and he made it there within five minutes. Driving down the wide street towards the house, he was surprised to see a strange black Cadillac jeep parked right in the driveway behind his wife’s car.
He drove on past the house and parked the car two blocks down the street, then got out and hurried back.
The peaceful neighborhood was completely deserted and no one was about.
Vincent found the front door locked and all the front windows closed tightly with the curtains drawn so he went quickly around to the small gate to the side of the house and climbed over it, landing soundlessly on his feet within the inner compound on the other side. He headed to the back of the house and found the back door unlocked, got it quietly open and slipped into the kitchen.
The light was on in the kitchen and out in the hallway beyond, but no one was about.
Vincent moved into the hallway on soundless feet and headed for the living room. He heard the deep moans of pleasure of a man and a woman even before he reached it. When he got to the wide archway that opened into the big room, he saw them.
The air-conditioning and the lights were on in the big living room and his wife was very busy with a strange man on the long sofa. The two were half unclad; some of their clothes were scattered on the floor as if they had gotten undressed in a hurry. Wearing only a pink blouse, Belinda was on her elbows and knees with her naked wide buttocks sticking high up in the air. The man was mostly clothed, but his trousers were down and he was positioned right behind Belinda’s buttocks, pounding away at it with frantic energy.
With a bellow of rage, Vincent was across the room and at the sofa in a flash. He attacked the man with speed and ferociously, iron hard fists slamming into his body with pinpoint accuracy, damaging vital parts. He kicked the bastard to the floor, caught hold of one arm, straightening it out with a quick pull and a twist, then drove his knee powerfully into it, breaking it in multiple places. He stamped down viciously on his exposed ribs and pulled violently at the arm from an angle, tearing it out of the shoulder socket.
Completely berserk now, Vincent started kicking viciously at the man’s body with his booted foot; his head, ribs and exposed groin, he kicked hard at them, over and over again.
It took some time before Vincent calmed down enough to realize that the man was no longer moving. There was blood all over the floor and his wife was screaming at the top of her voice.
The police arrived minutes later and Vincent was arrested. He spent less than ten minutes in police custody before the Army swooped in to transfer both the prisoner and the entire case into their own custody.
Continued… Chapter 4
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