Read Pussycat Death Squad Online

Authors: Roslyn Hardy Holcomb

Tags: #Erotica

Pussycat Death Squad

Table of Contents
 

 

 

 

PUSSYCAT DEATH SQUAD

 

 

 

 

 

 

Roslyn Hardy Holcomb

 

 

 

 

 

 

www.loose-id.com

 

Warning

 

 

 

This e-book contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language and may be considered offensive to some readers. Loose Id LLC's e-books are for sale to adults ONLY, as defined by the laws of the country in which you made your purchase. Please store your files wisely, where they cannot be accessed by under-aged readers.

* * *

 

DISCLAIMER: Please do not try any new sexual practice, especially those that might be found in our BDSM/fetish titles without the guidance of an experienced practitioner. Neither Loose Id LLC nor its authors will be responsible for any loss, harm, injury or death resulting from use of the information contained in any of its titles.

 

Pussycat Death Squad

 

Roslyn Hardy Holcomb

This e-book is a work of fiction. While reference might be made to actual historical events or existing locations, the names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

 

Published by

Loose Id LLC

www.loose-id.com

 

Copyright © July 2009 by Roslyn Hardy Holcomb

All rights reserved. This copy is intended for the purchaser of this e-book ONLY. No part of this e-book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without prior written permission from Loose Id LLC. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author's rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

 

eISBN 978-1-59632-947-8

Printed in the United States of America

Chapter One

 

 

The would-be assassin's collarbone snapped with a sickening
crunch
. Sergeant Lelia Assad swallowed against a bitter wave of nausea as she focused on the task at hand, preventing collateral damage. Collarbones are a vulnerable body point and a quick way to incapacitate an opponent in a critical situation. She did wonder, though, if she'd ever grow accustomed to that distinctive sound. After all, it was one of the perks of her profession. As her left hand followed her right, bringing the blade sharply down on the man's wrist, she shut down her body's reaction as she'd been trained to do and relied on muscle memory to complete the task of eliminating the threat. The blow against his radial nerve forced the attacker to drop his weapon as she had intended. Lelia looked down at the man who cowered at her feet. Despite his supplicant position, his eyes blazed with rage. After assuring that he was totally incapacitated, she quickly scanned the crowd for any accomplices. Finding none, she turned as Astaria, her second in command, rushed to her side.

 

“Where's the Colonel?”

 

“Back at the palace,” Astaria replied. Her sparkling golden brown eyes were never still as she scanned the crowd as well.

 

“Are the exits blocked off?”

 

“Yes, Sergeant, but we didn't find anyone else.”

 

“Good.” Lelia raised her voice as other soldiers joined them. “Restrain him. We need to take him back to headquarters for questioning.”

 

Two soldiers knelt beside the attacker and began placing handcuffs on his wrists. Others began working crowd control.

 

After ensuring that her soldiers had the situation well at hand, Lelia turned and began walking back toward the squad's headquarters.

 

“That's the third one this month,” Astaria said, keeping pace beside her.

 

“Four, if you count the one we found lurking in the Palladium Palace.”

 

Astaria shook her head, her expression grim. “Yes, but the Colonel wasn't there.”

 

“Doesn't matter. Obviously the man wasn't there to deliver figs and honey.”

 

“Someone's trying to kill the Colonel.”

 

“You think?” Lelia tossed the snide comment over her shoulder but almost instantly regretted it. It was hardly Astaria's fault that they had once again had to thwart an attack against their leader. She glanced down at her friend. Astaria seemed to have taken the quip with good humor; she smiled in return, then continued her point.

 

“I meant that it seems more systematic.”

 

Lelia stopped midstride, then glanced around to determine their degree of privacy. Most of the crowd that had gathered to hear the Colonel speak had dispersed at the first sign of trouble. Years of conflict and a brutal civil war had conditioned the people to run first and ask questions later, if at all. But there were still a few stragglers, and this was hardly the type of conversation she would want overheard by just anyone. She pulled Astaria into a niche built into the neoclassical architecture of Colonel al-Fariq's favorite palace.

 

“How do you mean?” she asked in a voice just above a whisper. She automatically switched to Swahili, a language they both spoke due to their East African ancestry. Few Laritreans spoke it, making it perfect for such situations.

 

Astaria answered in kind, making an equally smooth transition to one of the many languages they spoke. She kept her voice soft as well. Whispers carry much farther than softly spoken words. “Some of these attacks have been absurd. Like the one today. A lone knife attack against eight heavily armed guards?” She gestured toward their high-caliber sidearms, worn holstered on their webbed pistol belts.

 

“We've seen it before. It was pretty much a suicide mission. That's why we stopped shooting them and started using nonlethal means,” Lelia said.

 

“I think they're testing us or softening us up for something.”

 

Lelia pinched the bridge of her nose, hoping to head off a massive headache that lurked just behind her eyes. “You mean a coup attempt?” she asked, her voice softening even further.

 

Astaria nodded. “Or something to that effect.”

 

“Why haven't you said anything before now?” Lelia asked, still surveying the surrounding area.

 

“I assumed you'd already considered it,” Astaria replied with a shrug.

 

“I had. I just wondered how many other members of the Guard had too.”

 

“To counteract an assassin, you must enter the mind of an assassin.”

 

Lelia pursed her lips as her second in command quoted verbatim from the training manual Lelia had devised. “Sometimes you are much too smart.”

 

Astaria smiled again, an odd response considering the grim issue they'd been discussing. “I learned at the foot of the master.” She sketched a slight bow in Lelia's direction.

 

Lelia cuffed her gently on the head, then started toward the entry to the palace once again. “Insolent.”

* * *

 

The interview wasn't going well. Hardly surprising given that the Colonel had to have been mad to agree to it in the first place. Lelia couldn't fathom what would make the normally savvy leader agree to an interview with an American reporter. Nothing good could come from it, no matter what his purposes might have been. There were all sorts of rumors about a top secret transaction with the Americans. Some said oil had been discovered, while others claimed it was some type of mineral. No one really knew the truth, and the Colonel, cagey as always, would only smile and shake his head when someone dared inquire. Now, watching this interview from her guard post, Lelia had to finally acknowledge that there must be some truth to the rumors; otherwise she couldn't imagine why he hadn't dismissed the rude reporter when he began asking about the Amazonian Guard.

 

Of course, his inquiry might be a diversion, as he hadn't gotten any further than anyone else when he asked about the rumored American deal. Cam Watson, the reporter, was a superstar in journalism circles, an American freelancer who had written a best seller a few years previously. The book, about the firefighters who had extinguished the oil well fires after the Kuwaiti war, had even been made into a movie. Lelia had read and enjoyed the thriller. Watson was an excellent reporter and writer. The Middle East seemed to be his regular beat, and he even spoke Arabic, an unusual skill in a Western journalist. None of these facts allayed her concerns about the Colonel granting this interview.

 

“So, what do you think about that, Sergeant Assad?” Cam asked in Arabic. Lelia hid her ability to speak English and several other languages a closely guarded secret. It helped quite a bit in intelligence gathering, and it generally saved her from having to participate in interviews with the Western media.

 

Lelia stared at the reporter blankly. She had no idea what he was asking her about or, for that matter, why he was asking her anything. As far as she knew, she'd never agreed to be interviewed. Of course, the Colonel was infamous for “volunteering” people for various distasteful duties… Best to maintain politeness, even if it was a facade. “I beg pardon, sir. Could you repeat the question?” She deliberately kept her tone flat and devoid of any interest in his query.

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