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- Piers, New Orleans. 950712 0600
- Grasping her hand, Kham ran as fast as she could. Powerful hissing from the radiator of their car let her know how bad they needed out now. As a combat op she was required to do a lot of things. Rescue prostitutes, and make up for Intel screwups were not two of her favorite. Whatever made this sixteen year old blond vixen so important she didn't know. Kham tugged once more to get this simpering norm to move. Running down the sidewalk, she cut into a trash filled and quite stinky alley way that headed at least in the direction of the docks. Hopefully the squeeler would be there with the boat. She turned to her charge, "Listen girly. You better run when I say run, and you better get the drek down when I say grab some." Fear filled eyes stared back at here through tears and sobs, but she gave a quick nod. Kham shuddered when she thought about her appearance. The poor girl had seen here Steven Segal nine guys. That was Combat Op parlace for hand to hand.
- The van had pulled up at the house of the charge, and disgorged a flock of tough looking punks that stalked up the the front door. All the intel spook had done is radio, 'You got company.' Worthless bag of drek. She had stood in the doorway, wearing a pair of tight jeans and tight white blouse that accentuated all her tanned asian curves. In this part of town the toughs could only have been looking for a good gang bang, literally. The charge had fled into the house, but Kham had stood there defiantly, intimidating the toughs to make a move. All she had said was, "You boys might not be able to handle all the lovin' I'm gonna dish out. Reconsider." The biggest, a huge rotund negro, wearing Nike jogging pants and jersy was about to say something when she struck his windpipe, ripped it out, spun him around, and doused his partners with crimson spray. That the punks had even continued the attack told her they were her opponents minions. Two had flanked her while the other six had held back to circle; one wore a stocking cap and the other seemed to like gold chain. One of the six made a rush in, but she side stepped him and lunged at stocking cap. 'Stocking Cap' got a thumb in the eye, all the way to the brain, then slumped to the porch lifeless. 'Rusher' swung at her backside but she ducked and delivered a back kick to his groin. Two more came at her while 'Chains' sat there unable to get around 'Rusher.' 'Left' punched only to have his arm grabbed, wreched over his head, then brought down hard, which threw him over 'Caps' body and into the house door. Kham then gave 'Right' a temple shot with her knuckle blades, lobotomizing him. His body fell down the stairs with a loud crack and a snap, as she slid across the deck. 'Chains' now knew he was looking at death. The lovely young asian flower shin kicked and then grabbed his ears and broke his neck in one blur of motion. Growing tired of this melee, Kham drew two knives and hurled them down the stairs at the last two as they tried to negotiate their buddies bodies. Both knives struck the throat, giving the attackers nothing to do but gargle and fall to the ground. 'Left' was just getting to his feat, when Kham was on him, grabbed him arm and pinned him to the ground. 'Left' was face down on his chest with her nearly sitting on him, his already hurt arm in a terrible lock. Kham thought about asking him something, but now time was short, so she just tore off his arm and left him to bleed to death. She went into the house and got her charge while the slipped out of her blood spalettered blouse.
- Now she was in an alley and had a shot up car. She drew her .50AE Desert Eagle and XM-8 Carbine Shotgun. Both full and registering on her smart links. Slinging the XM-8 on her sports bra/tac sling, she then grabbed Charge and headed down the alley.
- After nearly a quarter mile, Charge was winded but the pier was in sight, alas with no boat. The small dock was flat and featureless except for a one room looking office or handling building at the edge of the pier. This time of the morning nobody but dockworkers would be here, so they headed for the empty building. She bust in the door and found it a cross between a cargo checking office and a store room. Footfalls down the block caught her amplified hearing and spun to see half-dozen workers running with light automatics. Pulling Charge in and shutting the door she scanned the room and saw some gas cans plus a box of soap chips. Napalm. She poured the chips into the can and started shaking as she walked back to the door. She leveled the IMI and fired off six shots that howled and thundered down the dock. Each struck it's target square in the chest, knocking them to the ground, only three got back up. From the other direction she could hear more running. Guess about twelve more. She flung the gas can out through the door and hit it with the last shot from the IMI dousing the entrance with flames. Reloading the IMI and houlstering it, drawing the XM-8 was instinctual. "Up the stairs to the roof, and stay down Charge." The young girl complied as the first rounds of the attackers riddled the building. Kham went to ground, then in the first lull popped up in a window and fired a burst of ten flechettes at a clump of attackers behind a crab trap pile. As she ducked behind cover again, their wails and screams told her that her rounds had the desired effect. Grabbing another can and chips as she raced up the stairs more firing erupted around her, as windows shattered and everything on the desks filled the air.
- On the roof, her radio finally crackled, "Sweet lips, your Knight is here." That damn Sec Op had a bad sense of humor, but his 5mm Gatling Carbine was a welcome addition as it sprayed the deck with 120 rounds per second, plus she thought he was damn attractive. She turned to Charge, "Up. Jump for the water!" The young girl instantly complied. She sprang up and dashed for the edge, gracefully taking to the air and landing mere feet from the boat, expertly placed there by the squeeler. Kham turned to her attackers, and threw the can. It arced through the air above their position, then the Sec Op drilled it with a burst of ten, igniting it and raining hot, burning, flaming, death-bringing napalm on their position. She then turned and jumped straight into the boat, a full ten feet further than Charge, but this was a short jump. Not landing in the water saved her jeans, but she wasn't spared the screams from the burning by being underwater for a instant. Kham helped Charge into the boat and reloaded her weapons. Turning to Karl she said, "Good timing for a squeeler."
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