Mothers and Daughters Pt. 03

"I have a message for you," Nate spoke clearly in perfect German to the Romanian's leader. "Do you want to hear it, or should I just kill you now?" Unable to breathe or move, the leader barely nodded his head yes. "If any one of you ever touch these girls, if you ever hurt them in any way, if you ever do anything to them they don't like, if you look at them the wrong way, there is no place you can go, there is nowhere you can hide. I will hunt you down and I will kill you. All of you. I will kill all your friends. And then I will find the filthy whores in Romania you call mothers, and I will kill them too." Nate waited a moment for effect. "Do you understand the message?" This time both Germans nodded.

Nate looked at Keeger. "Take your knife out, slowly, and drop it gently down the stairs," he ordered in German. Keeger looked at his leader for guidance, but the Romanian's face was turning a deep crimson from lack of oxygen, and his eyes were bulging with horrifying panic. Keeger slowly reached behind him, took hold of his knife, and tossed it through the railing, letting it clatter down the stone stairs.

Nate released his grip on the leader's throat, and the Romanian sucked in a hard recovery gasp before he fell into a raging fit of coughing. The coughing caused him to move his broken arm in the railing, leaving him with unbearable pain. He did his best to supress any further coughs, and the result sounded like a smoker's rattling wheeze. "You stay right here until after we're gone. If one of you moves, I will kill you both, like your friend down there," Nate promised in perfect German again. They both nodded.

Nate left the defeated Romanians against the railing, and trotted back down the stairs. He turned to Briana and Pavlina, who were clutching each other desperately. Nate looked to Pavlina, and spoke perfect German. "Let's go. Don't touch anything. Don't step in the blood," Nate pointed to the pool of blood collecting under the fallen Romanian's fractured skull. The girls remained huddled in the corner of the doorway, paralyzed with shivering fear. "Come on," Nate said to Briana in English, extending his hand to her. "It's all right now. It's all over."

Briana was still wearing Nate's jacket around her shoulders. She looked up through the railing at the two Romanians. They were decidedly averting her eyes, heaving labored breaths in painful distress. Then she looked down at the fallen Romanian in the stairwell. She took Nate's hand, and stepped over the bleeding Romanian. "You too," he switched to German, holding out his hand to Pavlina. Pavlina took his hand and stepped over the German body as Briana climbed the stairs.

When the girls were half way up the stairs, Nate spoke German and told them to stop and wait. They froze in their tracks. Nate went back down into the stairwell and pulled his long shirt sleeve down over his right hand, and then using the fabric in the palm of his hand, Nate wiped down the doorway, the door, the handle, the glass – anything he thought the girls might have touched. Nate bounded up the stairs, past the girls, and he surveyed the courtyard from the top of the stairs. It was empty except for the two Romanians snivelling against the railing. Nate ushered the girls up the rest of the stairs, and told them to stand aside as he wiped down the overhead railing of any fingerprints.

Nate looked at the Romanians, who were still cowering by the railing. It would take some time for the leader to unthread his backward broken arm through the balusters. Nate took both Briana and Pavlina by the hands and silently led them out the courtyard, turning left onto the deserted narrow street. The three walked without speaking through the twisty lanes, holding hands, until they reached the park.

"Who are you?" Briana asked, taking her hand away from Nate. She looked at him with wild, panicked eyes. "Who the fuck are you?" she yelled this time.

"Briana," Nate held his free palm up, trying to calm her, "let's get back to the apartment. You are in shock."

"I'm not going anywhere with you," she spat the words. Pavlina didn't understand the conversation, but she didn't require a translator to see Briana was enraged and scared. Pavlina let go of Nate's hand, and walked the two steps to Briana.

"What is the problem?" she asked softly in German. "Are you okay?"

"No," Briana answered, "I am not okay," and Briana started shaking uncontrollably. Her teeth were chattering. "Those men were going to ..." and Briana stopped. She was reliving the terror inflicted by the German men, by their graphic threats of unspeakable brutality, and quite probably, she thought, killing her afterwards. Or maybe their plan was to take Briana back to their headquarters, and gang rape her day after day, week after week, until they tired of her and sold her to an Arab prince as one of his 17 sex slave wives. Her imagination conjured grotesquely horrible outcomes, and each vision drove Briana into deeper shock.

Pavlina put her arms around the stricken Briana and hugged her while Briana shook and cried onto Pavlina's shoulder, still shaking badly. "Come on," Pavlina softly assured Briana after a few minutes. "I'll take care of you." Pavlina put her hands around Briana's shoulders and gently ushered her down the park toward the apartment building. Nate followed in silence.

There were no sirens, no radio squawks, no rushing of foot patrols. The narrow courtyard was lined by commercial establishments – stores, restaurants, and other services, all of which were closed and unoccupied at the time of the encounter. If anyone heard the few shouts from the stairwell, none of them called the police.

The fallen Romanian at the bottom of the stairwell was dead, Nate surmised, or he soon would die from head trauma without urgent medical attention, which wasn't coming. He was pretty sure the two other Romanians were not going to call the police. They would concoct separate stories explaining each man's injuries, and then go to separate hospitals to avoid inconvenient and embarrassing questions.

Nate figured the body would be found in the pre-dawn hours when the first employees reported to work on Tuesday. The three knives had the Romanians' own fingerprints on them, as did the dildo, which would give the police positive clues to work with. Nate was confident that, even if the police questioned the two surviving Romanians, the men were not going to admit to attempted robbery, gang rape, and murder. Thus Nate, Briana, and Pavlina were in the clear – it was unlikely they would ever be connected to the incident. Except ...

Except Nate paid with a credit card at the Italian restaurant. A thorough police investigation would canvass the surrounding buildings, including the restaurant. Someone might have heard yelling from the courtyard, but didn't think enough of it to call the police, but might later tell the investigators when questioned. There is no doubt Mazur would remember Nate and his two lovely companions. The police would ask for the credit card receipt, which would put an exact time on their activities. The timeline proximity of the restaurant credit card charge to the shouts in the courtyard would compel a competent investigator to follow up by questioning the owner of the credit card. If nothing else, the Hamburg police were thorough and competent.

Nate wasn't worried about his own actions – it was a clear case of self-defence. He was more worried about the direction a prosecutor would take. Germany has experienced a steady influx of immigrants, most of whom are fine, upstanding people, but an aggravating minority turn to gangs and crime. It has become enough of a problem that German prosecutors generally take a dim view toward any foreigner involved in crime. In the same way as Briana and Pavlina were coerced into paying an outrageous fine for a misdemeanor, for no other reason than they were foreigners, Nate would shoulder a disproportionate burden of defence compared to a German national in his situation, and there was no way of predicting which way a trial verdict would fall.

Nate did not want to have to defend himself in a court case intended to make an example of him. Nor did he want to draw attention to Briana and Pavlina. They were already walking the fine edge of law. Involving them in a criminal investigation – even tangentially – could jeopardize their chances of leaving the country unscathed. Any link to this incident could fabricate a reason to revoke their AeB status, remanding the girls in custody for months or years until the Hamburg police resolved the girls' involvement in the Romanian incident.

And, there was the small matter of the wiped down railing and doorway to remove fingerprints, and the absence of any calls to emergency services. The prosecutor might interpret those actions as circumstantial evidence supporting Nate's culpability.

But most importantly, there was his job. Nate was a senior consultant working on an international security contract. His job required a security clearance so high, Nate was not allowed to tell people what level it was. And his clearance would most certainly come under scrutiny if he were the prime suspect in a major crime investigation. A revocation, or even temporary suspension of Nate's security clearance would prove disastrous to his contract, and perhaps to his entire career.

Except for the threats he made about killing the Romanians' friends and mothers, which Nate could easily explain as a blusterous utterance in the heat of the moment, Nate had committed no crime. He defended himself against an armed gang who made it clear by both their words and actions they intended to kill Nate and rape and kill Briana and Pavlina. After neutralizing one armed assailant, who unfortunately died, Nate disarmed the other armed gang members with his bare hands using nothing more than reasonable force. Overall, Nate diffused the situation effectively and efficiently. The two surviving Romanians had to know Nate could just as easily have killed them both.

Back at the apartment, Briana was settling down, but was still weary of Nate. "Apparently you speak fluent German," she said to him.

"Ya," Nate replied.

"So what has this been all about," she gestured toward Pavlina, "me translating?"

"Look Briana," Nate explained calmly, "I haven't seen you in ten years, and I never met Pavlina before." He paused. "I didn't know how much I could trust you?"

"You!" She yelled. "Trusting us!? We haven't seen any money yet, Nate."

"And she's going to cut my dick and my balls off," Nate gestured to Pavlina with his eyes. Briana's indignation deflated a bit when she heard that. "For all I know," Nate continued, "you could be part of some scam designed to extort much more money from me, or rob me later."

"So you think by fucking you day and night we're scamming you!" Briana accused.

Nate sighed, realizing he was not going to win. Briana was entrenched behind her fear. He switched to German for Pavlina's benefit. "Look, if you want to call this whole thing off, I don't have to go the bank tomorrow."

"NO!" shouted Pavlina, and then turned to Briana. "What are you telling him?" Briana put her hands up in surrender, and walked up the stairs to the bathroom, and locked the door behind her.

Pavlina turned to Nate and spoke German. "If she wants to go, that's fine, but I stay and we still have a deal. Yes?"

"I think she'll change her mind in the morning," Nate replied in German.

"Maybe yes," Pavlina cautioned, "maybe no. But you and I have a deal!"

"Yes," Nate assured Pavlina. "We have a deal."

"Good," Pavlina nodded.

Nate regarded Pavlina for a long while. "No thank you?" he finally challenged.

"For what?" Pavlina snorted, and then realized what Nate was driving at. "You mean for stopping them from fucking me so you can fuck me?"

"You know," Nate chided her, "it was more serious than that."

"Maybe it was," Pavlina conceded. "So," she continued after a pause, "what do you want?"

Nate unzipped his fly and lowered his pants and underpants. "I think I deserve a proper thank you," he smiled with his naked cock swinging in the air.

"You are a real asshole," she said to him.

"A real asshole that just saved your life," he reminded her. "And you just confirmed we still have a deal."

Pavlina rolled her eyes, but then stepped forward and dropped to her knees. Without waiting for further instructions, Pavlina took Nate's cock into her mouth, and he felt it harden between her lips as she sucked eagerly.

Nate stood near the bottom of the stairs while Pavlina offered her oral gratitude. He felt his balls start to tingle when upstairs Briana came out of the bathroom. She looked downstairs and saw Pavlina on her knees with Nate's cock in her mouth. Pavlina heard Briana but did not look up – she remained faithful to her duty. Briana and Nate met each other's eyes, and then Briana shook her hood solemnly, and walked away to the bed.

Nate pulled away from Pavlina, and told her to take her clothes off, and he did the same. Nate told Pavlina to lie on her back, upside down on the sofa, so her head hung off the front edge of the chesterfield and her feet were up in the air. He straddled her face, and lowered his stiffened cock into her waiting upside-down mouth. Pavlina brought her hands up to assist, and Nate said no – he spoke German and told her to keep her hands at her sides. Nate started fucking Pavlina's open mouth. He reached forward and spread her upturned legs open, and slipped two fingers inside her pussy as he continued fucking her mouth.

After five minutes of mouth fucking and pussy fingering, it became clear that, as erotic as the visual was, Nate was not going to reach Valhalla in this position. He told Pavlina to stand, and Nate lay down on the couch, and told Pavlina to lie on top of him 69 style. She planted her right foot on the cushion beside his head, bending her knee upwards, and she put her left foot on the floor. Her pussy stretched open for Nate's enjoyment, and he began to tongue-fuck Pavlina as the fair haired, blue-eyed, skinny, small breasted blonde girl leaned forward, and once again took Nate's bulging cock into her mouth. This time Nate allowed Pavlina to use her hands, and in just a few minutes, Nate felt his balls roiling.

Pavlina sensed Nate's impending eruption, and she sucked harder, bobbing her head faster, and ribbed his shaft tighter with her encircled fingers. The extra push worked, and in just a few more seconds Nate felt is balls unleash their fury, and he pumped wave after wave of milky seed into Pavlina's sucking mouth. Nate jammed his tongue up her pussy as far as he could, and dug his fingernails into her butt cheeks. Pavlina didn't break contact, and continued to suck him as salvos of jism sprayed into the back of her mouth. Pavlina swallowed it down like a good special girlfriend, and gently, slowly rubbed her puckered lips up and down Nate's shaft after his last release.

When it was over, Nate told Pavlina to turn around, and she lay on top of him as he hugged her tightly. "Why do you play with my pussy so often," Pavlina asked in German. Now that she knew Nate spoke German, she could ask more delicate questions without requiring Briana's embarrassed translations.

"Because you have such a nice one," Nate replied in German. "It is pretty, pink, and tight," he added. Some women have ugly pussies, with lips slapping all over. Pavlina's was a well-proportioned, sculpted work of art. And it was a tight pussy to fuck, which is always a bonus.

Pavlina thought for a while before asking her next question. "What is an arm of fire?"

Nate thought a moment, but drew a blank. "I don't know," he shrugged beneath her weight.

"You have a card in your wallet for an arm of fire," Pavlina said, knowing she was revealing she had been through his wallet.

"A firearm," Nate nodded. "That is a gun. A pistol."

"You carry a pistol?"

"Not in Germany," Nate answered. "That card is only good in Canada."

"In Canada you are a policeman?"

"No," Nate shook his head. "I am a consultant."

Pavlina thought for a moment. "I think in Canada, consulting is a very dangerous job."

Nate smiled. "I don't use my guns very often. Mostly they stay locked up." Answering her next question, he added, "sometimes I work with other people who have guns – mostly soldiers. Sometimes I have to show them how to use a gun in certain situations. I can only do that if I am allowed to handle guns." Nate paused in thought. "I don't do that very much anymore."

"You were a soldier?" Nate nodded. "What kind of soldier?" she asked.

"Special forces," he offered casually.

"Those are the elite forces, yes?" she verified.

"Counter terrorism," Nate qualified, "advanced surveillance and reconnaissance, special tactical operations, training."

"And you were in the Canadian Special Forces?"

"It's called the Joint Task Force Two," Nate corrected her.

"How did you become a consultant?"

"I became an unofficial liaison officer to AFSOC – the US Air Force Special Operations, and the German GSG-9 special forces," Nate explained. "I spent a lot of time travelling between Canada, the USA, and Germany. I became an unofficial consultant inside the armed forces. When I retired, it made sense for me to continue consulting."

"So," Pavlina put the pieces together, "you are helping Canada and Germany work together in counter terrorism?"

"Exactly."

"That is how you fought those criminal men tonight? You used your special forces training?" Nate nodded. Pavlina pondered for a moment. "Were you scared?"

"I was concerned they might have guns," Nate nodded. "That would have made the situation more difficult."

"When you said you will kill their mothers ..."

"I was scaring them," Nate interrupted. "I am not going to hunt down their mothers."

"Yes, I know that," Pavlina nodded. "I knew it at the time. But when you said that, you made me feel very safe." She paused. "Even though I know you were not going to do it, I believed that you are able to do it. You are a crazy enough idiot to do it. I think they are worried." Nate didn't respond.

"Are you angry I looked in your wallet, or looked at your computer?" Pavlina changed subjects.

"No," Nate conceded. "I would have done the same in your position." He paused. "But please do not do that again."

Pavlina stiffened her naked body like a board on top of his, and drew her hand to her forehead in a salute. "Yes, Sir," she smiled. He smiled back, and almost instinctively, almost subconsciously, he kissed her quickly on the lips. She pecked him back, and then Pavlina wrapped her hands around his neck and they engaged in long, passionate kiss. Nate caressed her back and rubbed her shoulders in a naked lover's embrace. Pavlina broke off her kiss, and turned her head sideways, resting it on top of Nate's shoulder with nose nearly brushing against his ear. The lay naked together for another ten minutes.

"I'm going to check on Briana," Nate said, still in German. He rolled onto his side, gently rolling Pavlina into the back of the sofa. He stood up, dressed, and climbed the stairs.

Briana was awake, watching TV from the bed. "Did you have a good blowjob?" she sneered caustically in English. Nate ignored the question. Briana switched to German, and spoke loud enough for Pavlina to hear. "I don't know how you can have casual sex after that." Nate wanted to make a joke about it not being casual, but he knew better.

Instead, Nate picked up the remote and turned off the TV. "Briana, are you okay?" he asked in English.

"Okay?" Briana answered in English. "I came this close to being gang raped and murdered," she yelled, holding up her thumb and index finger half an inch apart, measuring how close it was. "So, no," she lowered her voice to only loud talking, "I would not say I am not fucking okay."