Revelation (M/F) (F/M) - A sequel to Devastation

Stories that have little truth to them should go here.
wolfman
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Post by wolfman »

Six months later

Nikita shucks off her body armour and slowly strips her uniform off. “Another day, another op.” She sighs, folding her gear and packing it into her locker.

She plucks the small soap bag from the shelf and closes the door. Stepping into the shower she turns her back to the jet, letting the hot stream pummel her back. She braces the hands against the opposite wall and submits to the relentless jet of water.

She closes her eyes and sees the gulls swoop down on the Ivy shoal. She opens her eyes with a sharp intake of breath and looks down sadly, “I gave her every chance to show remorse but she just didn’t She showed no regret and I am sure she would have done it again.”

She turns to face the water jet, surrendering to the waters power, letting it cleanse her soul. “Why do I still feel like I made a bad call?”, she asks herself.

She flicks the temperature to cold and luxuriates in the biting chill of the water. The cold chases all thought from her mind, like a ravenous pack of wolves, running down a flock of sheep.

She takes a rough pumice stone from her bag and begins scrubbing her skin, starting with her arms and slowly working down her body. She ruthlessly punishes every inch of her skin. With tentacles, she uses the stone to scrub every inch of her body. Felling purged and cleansed after half an hour, she blasts herself with the hot water once more.

The water is almost scolding hot against her scrubbed skin and she breathes deep, relishing the feeling for just a moment.

She steps from the shower, dripping onto the hard stone floor as she wraps a towel around herself. She snatches a hairdryer from the rack and begins tousling and blow drying her hair, enjoying the warmth.

Nikita catches her gaze in the mirror and looks away with sadness, “Any sensation, except what you really feel, eh?”



Nikita pulls a pair of red leather trousers over her leggings and shrugs on a red leather jacket matched well with a purple t-shirt. Black leather boots and gloves, with a red crash helmet completes her look. She strides out of the command building into the morning sun and makes a beeline for her black Ducati motorcycle.

She feels the lifepulses of everyone onsite and allows a wave of calm to settle over her. “Sasha is in theatre. Dani is running new recruits through entry drills and the girls are studying.” She sighs and smiles to herself, “All is well.”

She guns the engine of her motorcycle and feels the rumble of the superbike’s engine through her thighs. With a roar, she peels out of the carpark and hits the road.

Before long the bushes and trees zipping past are replaced by warehouse and hotels, that line part of the M25 before she leaves the motorway and weaves through London’s busy streets.

For Nikita the ride is a form of moving meditation, with a kaleidoscope of lifepulses flowing through and around her as she glides into the heart of the city.

Once parked she steps off of her bike still trembling with adrenaline. She pulls off her crash helmet and unzips her jacket to her waist before lighting a cigarette.

Even though the PCS in her body strips the cigarette of its effects almost before she can feel them, she still takes comfort in the act of smoking.

She exhales a cloud of smoke and strides towards the building before her. With a smile, she waves at the vendor parked outside and gives him a thumbs up. By the time she has finished her cigarette, she has drawn level with the stall and he has her order ready and waiting.

She pays cash, gently insisting he keep the change before taking her sandwich and coffee into the building.



Nikita slinks through the zoo like a blood red shadow, descending to the aquariums in the lowest gallery. “Quiet. Just how I like it. The school groups don’t make it down here before lunch and there is minimal foot traffic. Perfect after an all nighter on emergency rescues in the English Channel.” She reflects.

She takes a seat opposite a tank filled with bioluminescent fish and bathes in their gentle glow. Licking her lips, she inhales the aroma of the strong black coffee savouring its rich scent.

The hot coffee scorches her tongue slightly, but all is forgiven due to the flavour of the brew. Carefully she sets the cup down beside her and unwraps the sandwich.

“Roast beef, aged stilton, sweet onion chutney and seeded rye bread. Perfection.” Nikita thinks, savouring her first bite.

She closes her eyes and tilts her head back allowing the simple flavours wash over her. She senses that she is almost alone in the room, with a man standing behind and slightly to the left of her, who hasn’t moved for at least a minute.

She slowly chews, whilst scrutinising his lifepulse and the spider eyes looking through her hair. “Early sixties, good physical shape overall. Old scars, this guy has seen combat in his life. Bearing indicates soldier. Demeanour indicates not retired. Nice suit, classic cut with some tailoring, but the gun still shows.”

She swallows her food and opens her eyes, before she takes a slow deliberate sip of her coffee. “This is the place I come to escape the noise.” Nikita says, calmly, “An oasis of calm, in the maelstrom of the city. A place of peace and you see fit to disrupt that.”

“I’m sorry young lady but I am only here for the fish.” The man replies in a crisp West London accent.

“Then why have you been staring at the back of my head for the last two minutes, as if you were waiting for me to turn around.” Nikita asks, before taking another bite of her sandwich.

Nikita can almost hear the smile in his voice, when he speaks, “I confess, I am not dead yet and you are a beautiful woman.”

Nikita swallows and takes another sip of coffee, taking her turn to smile, “Why thank you.” She catches his reflection in the glass of one of the tanks, “I must say, you wear the suit well, it almost conceals the gun under your left arm. Although, it does nothing to conceal the fact that you are accustomed to treading softly in the dark places of the world, with a big stick.”

“You really are good, aren’t you?” He asks no one in particular, with a raised eyebrow.

“Why don’t you tell me who you are and what you want?” Nikita asks, taking another bite.

He glides away from the wall and takes a seat a short way down the bench from her. She notes his feet set shoulder width apart and his posture open and relaxed. “Commander Ian Oliver, at your service, my dear. Other wise known as Stag.”



“Nice to meet you, Commander. To what do I owe the pleasure?” Nikita asks, regarding him coolly. With a side ways glance, she appraises him more fully, “Initial assessment stands, early sixties, looks after himself. Neatly styled hair, chiselled jaw and an almost effortless grace, he would have been a catch back in the day.”

“Maerig made a promise to your father, that he would not approach your family. But I am in need of your help.” He confides.

Nikita’s eye twitches subtly and she feels her hackles rise, “What makes you think I would want to help you?”

He pauses, thinking for a moment and considering his options, before he begins, “Because deep down you know, that you are going through the motions and you want to snap out of it. You are doing your job, putting yourself in harms way, just so you don’t have to feel anything. Then after work chasing any sensation to numb what you have been feeling, since whatever you did to Ivy.” He pauses for effect, before continuing, “You are cocooned in your life and need to break the cycle. Deep down you know it, but you are too scared to admit it.”

“Nice try.” Nikita says, bitterly, “You almost had me convinced.”

Ian turns to her sharply, “Every shift you are on operation without a break. Then you come here, watch the same fish, eat the same sandwich and drink the same coffee.” He shakes his head solemnly, “I would guess when you go home every day, you train until you sleep and then get up and do it all again. All because you want to stop feeling the way you have felt since you dealt with Ivy.”

Nikita glowers at him and is flooded by the feeling that she would rather be anywhere but here. He takes a slow breath and continues, before she can respond, “Maerig and I discussed the Arno operation and which of you to approach.”

Nikita flushes red with anger once more, “You sent Dani? Did you know what that monster would do to her? She still has nightmares, about what he did and made her do.”

“We knew he had certain deviant tendencies and he had mind control abilities. Maerig wanted you to do it.” He pulls a small hip flask from his jacket pocket and takes a sip. “Truth be told we regretted having to sent anyone and we are sorry Dani had to suffer. I said no to you going, because if he had gotten control of you, there is no limit to the hell you could have unleashed.”

Nikita shakes her head, “I am so sorry you have regrets.” She says mockingly, before her tone hardens, “Jim is a wreck after losing Nat. Carl hates himself for not seeing the deception and has spent the last few months at the bottom of a bottle. Fey is running herself ragged, trying to be there for both of them. For each of them, seeing us holds too many bad memories, so I don’t know if we will ever see them again.”

Ian moves to speak, but Nikita cuts him off, “No motherfucker, you don’t get to defend what you did. Dani is trying to rebuild her life. Sasha was taken from her family by Arno’s brother and her newborn’s life was in danger. You came to us and left wreckage in your wake.”

Ian’s expression is that of a condemned man awaiting the noose, watching the anger rise in the woman before him.

“None of us, will do your bidding.” She snarls with disdain, “Be thankful you are walking out of here. Get out of my sight.”

The Colonel nods slowly and slinks from his seat warily towards the door.




Nikita discards the remains of her sandwich and coffee, as she watches him leave. “Prick.” She whispers under his breath.

She shakes her head subtly, “He might be a prick, but that doesn’t stop him from being right.”

Nikita follows the Colonel’s lifepulse as he hurries from the building. Just before she turns her focus away she notices four men converging on his position at pace.

She closes her eyes and shakes her head, “For fuck’s sake.” She whispers harshly, to herself and begins moving.
View my latest story, Revelation, here;

https://tugstories.com/viewtopic.php?f=17&t=8719


To view it's prequel Devastation, please click below;
https://tugstories.com/viewtopic.php?f=17&t=7458
Caesar73
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Post by Caesar73 »

I am looking forward to reading your new Chapter [mention]wolfman[/mention] - but to do it justice I have to do a bit catching up, reading the latest chapters before your hiatus again. I will comment then!
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GreyLord
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Post by GreyLord »

Wonderful, [mention]wolfman[/mention], another mesmerizing beginning. Nikita would be on any list of your top characters. I have undying curiosity to read where you may go with this.
ImageA List of my stories:
An Unlikely Savior Completed
Spy Task Force Completed
Tale of an Archer Completed
The Bandit Scout on Newhome updated 05/30/23
wolfman
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Post by wolfman »

Caesar73 wrote: 11 months ago I am looking forward to reading your new Chapter [mention]wolfman[/mention] - but to do it justice I have to do a bit catching up, reading the latest chapters before your hiatus again. I will comment then!
For the most part, any previous plot points will be covered through the course of this arc. I am glad to have you on board.
GreyLord wrote: 11 months ago Wonderful, [mention]wolfman[/mention], another mesmerizing beginning. Nikita would be on any list of your top characters. I have undying curiosity to read where you may go with this.
Thank you dor your kind words [mention]GreyLord[/mention] Nikita came from humble beginnings through a horrific ordeal to become who she is and yet in some ways she has kept her humanity better than some of her siblings. With her range of abilities writing a challenge for her presents its own Issues. However, she presents so many unique options for intetesting axtions and reactions.

That is why she is the perfect character for the rabbit hole this arc will go down.
View my latest story, Revelation, here;

https://tugstories.com/viewtopic.php?f=17&t=8719


To view it's prequel Devastation, please click below;
https://tugstories.com/viewtopic.php?f=17&t=7458
wolfman
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Post by wolfman »

Nikita steps out off the bathroom stall, her complexion now a dusky caramel and her eyes, deep brown. She is clad in a burka and niqab, which completely conceals her sleeveless NAKI suit and soft soled shoes. “Must thank Ali for showing me that trick. It is so handy.” She thinks, stepping out of the bathroom.

Then she is on the move, making a beeline for the Colonel. “The two behind are closing fast and the ones up front are loitering. They are herding him.”

She glides through the gathering crowds of visitors, like a Lioness in tall grass, heading straight for the exit.




The Stag senses the approach of predators and calms his stride. Subtly, he glances at shop windows, to get a glimpse of his pursuers.

“I see two. Their steps and movements at odds with the crowd. They look capable. If they wanted me dead they could have picked me off as I left the aquarium.” He muses, ducking into a chic haberdashery. “They seem to want me to head north. I am guessing the other half of their team is waiting there to take me into custody.”

Heedless of the complaints of the shop assistant, he strides through the shop and straight out of the back door. “Sorry chaps, plans change.”




Nikita falls into step behind one of the Stag’s pursuers. Hanging back, she keeps a wary eye on the man. “He looks agitated, heart rate elevated. Guessing they expected to have Stag in custody by now.” She thinks, considering her options.

“All of the original team are converging on him and another four operators have made themselves known. This could go to hell very fast.” She muses, releasing a handful of mosquitoes. “Jellyfish toxin too rare for use here might have to go old-school for these guys.

The insects fly high giving her a bird’s-eye view of the immediate area. “Alley ways and tight streets, this could work.”

With the grace of a cat she closes the distance between her and her prey, just as he enters the alley. Like lightning, she wraps her left arm around his neck and clamps Her right hand over his mouth.

The hapless man flails his arms, helpless in her iron grip. He cannot overpower her arm, or peel away her hand. He twists to try to draw his sidearm, but his body is shocked with her knee in his back. Silently, his eyes flutter close and he is engulfed in darkness.

She casually scratches his face and licks his blood off of her nails, then raises an eyebrow, “Interesting.” She thinks, calmly.

With a flourish, she plucks heavy duty zip ties from her stash and bind his wrists and ankles. Casually she dumps him in a bin to escape once he wakes. A second flourish, deposits his gun in her extra dimensional stash.

Her eyes narrow, tracking the other targets pursuing Stag. “Need to be quicker on the next one, they are gaining on him.”



Stag hear the rushed clomp of boots charging and ducks into a shop doorway. He slows his breathing and waits.

Browne charges around the corner with his baton drawn and barrels along the narrow street. His pace slows slightly, while he switches his gaze from doorway to doorway, seeking any trace of his quarry.

Stag darts from his concealment, at the moment when Browne looks the other way, at the doorway opposite him. By the time he looks back the older man is on top of him, tackling him to the ground, hard.

Browne struggles to regain his dropped baton, however, Stag teaches him the error of his ways, with a punishing elbow smash to the man’s temple, robbing him of any fight he had left.



Nikita smiles to herself, noting the Stag’s takedown, “Good for you.” She pauses for a moment, taking a note of everyone positions.

“He is heading towards a market and the other guys look like they will meet him there.” She thinks, quickening her pace to close on the nearest man. “Can take him out first and maybe another before it kicks off.”

The man barely registers her presence, turning a split second too late. Not even having time to raise a hand, before a fist of iron shatters his cheek and sends him sprawling.



At the opposite side of the market, Quaid emerges from the shadows of the alleyway. Like a cobra he slinks through the crowd. He takes a zig zag path, working his way closer to The Stag.

He is oblivious to the ants crawling up the inside left side of his jacket. Nor does he feel them coalesce into the form of a small grass snake.

He is fully aware however, once the snake coils around the hilt and trigger of his Glock, still in its shoulder holster. It only fires once.

The bullet slams down, striking his hip rending flesh and bone. He drops with a scream and panic engulfs the market.

Ian is galvanised into action by the shot and ensuing chaos. He lets the running crowd push him away from the heart of the market.

He jumps, feeling an arm snake though his and seeing a south Asian woman, taking his arm and guiding him to the left.

“Relax, it’s Nikita Green.” She says, looking up at him, letting her eyes change to blue and then back to brown.

“But you’re Asian?” He asks, sceptically.

“So are you.” She says with a nod toward a shop window, “See for yourself.”

He catches his reflection and raises and eyebrow, seeing his darkened complexion and black hair, “Good trick.”

“We need to get you out of here.” She whispers, “Lose the jacket and tie.”

Ian transfers a few items to his trousers pockets and shrugs of the jacket without breaking stride, to drop it into a bin. He subtly, loosens his tie and slips it into a pocket.

“Good. Helps distance your look, from your normal appearance.” Nikita says, surreptitiously watching the melee of the crowd surrounding them. “We need transport and a way out of here.”

“After what you said, I am surprised you are helping me.” He says quietly.

“You work for the safety of the nation. Whilst I won’t help you with whatever mission you have, I am not going to let you get captured and tortured.” Nikita says softly, guiding him towards a bus stop.

A few moments later, they are sat on the bus, watching the remaining operatives scour the market place and bark into their radios.

“We need to talk.” Ian whispers, softly.

“Not here, buses have CCTV.” Nikita whispers back.




Five stops later, they step off of the bus and make their way quietly up the road and duck into a camping goods store. Paying cash they purchase a bomber style jacket for Ian and a woollen hat for good measure.

Keeping a relaxed pace, they pass through a shopping centre and catch another bus heading west, back the way they came.




Four buses, two appearance changes and three hours later, they take a seat in a quiet backstreet pub with their normal complexions. Nikita has changed into dark blue skinny jeans and red tank top, with a black puffa jacket.

Ian sets down his Guinness and fixes Nikita with his gaze, “Thank you for getting me out of there.”

“Don’t mention it.” Nikita says, taking a sip of her pint. “You said we needed to talk. So talk.”

“I didn’t recognise any of the men and I know most of the domestic and foreign assets operating in the country at the moment.” Ian confides, in a low conspiratorial tone.

“Robert Browne, Alex Quaid, Ibrahim Fahalad and Deneal Porter.” Nikita says, before taking another sip and then continues, “They were the members of the initial pick up team. No names for the other team, they seem to have a cellular structure with each member knowing the others on the team and one knowing another team.”

“That is very useful, I will run the names down.” He pauses thoughtfully, then asks, “Do you have anything else?”

Nikita picks up his hat and her eye twitches before she hands it back, much heavier than before.

Ian examines the contents of the hat, with raised eyebrows. He quickly, pops the magazine out of the gun and shakes his head. Before stuffing it in his pocket. “Will get a check run on this too.”

He starts to reach for his jacket, when Nikita stops him with a low whisper, “I did manage to get a bit more. They belong to something called The Orichalcum Dawn. They want you for your access to something called The Regal Panopticon.”

“Shit.” He exclaims, under his breath, “I was afraid of that. The Panopticon, is a room where you can see all, part of an intelligence sharing agreement with the Americans. Within the room, you can access pretty much every camera in orbit.” He pauses with a distant look in his eyes, “What do you know of The Orichalcum Dawn?”

“The guy I took down was strictly low level. Muscle at best.” Nikita says, draining her glass, “I haven’t heard of them before. Who are they?”

“I am not sure we should be talking here. It is not secure.” Stag warns.

“We are secure.” Nikita says, calmly, “Spill. Who are they?”



Ian takes a deep slow breath and begins, “They believe themselves to be the descendants of Atlantis.” He pauses, to let his words sink in, “Some of them seek to return Atlantis to the world and others seek to guide humanity.”

Nikita nods throughout his explanation and pauses reflectively, “I am guessing they are not just run of the mill kooks, if they are on your radar. What are we looking at? Political influence, money, other resources, numbers?”

“They are like the wind, we don’t see them only their effects. An art theft here, disruption of an oil line there, data from research facilities goes missing, ardent supporters of industry switch sides overnight. We never find them only their proxies. This was why I was coming to you.” He explains, calmly. “Your work has earned you contacts and favours across the globe. You have access and could be a player, someone they would want to approach and then we can swoop in.”

“Still not interested, but thank you for thinking of me.” Nikita replies, with a subtle shake of the head.

“They have no qualms about taking life and manipulating local economies and power structures. They are linked to dozens of random acts across the globe. There seems to be no pattern.” Ian says almost exasperated.

“Forget what you can prove. What do you think?” Nikita asks, watching him closely.

For a moment, he has a thousand yard stare, before coming back to focus, “Gut feeling is that they are too good at keeping themselves hidden. They have a lot of money, that we cannot trace, plans with no discernible pattern and until today we have nothing concrete to suggest that they actually exist.” For a moment, he looks ashen, “There are too many unknowns and that worries me.”

Nikita sits thoughtfully for a moment, “Two questions.”

Ian nods deferentially to her, “Go ahead.”

“What is Orichalcum?” She asks, deep in thought.

“According to myth, it was a metal found in Atlantis, with mystical properties.” He says, with a tired look, “However, some sources claim it was an alloy of copper, bronze, zinc, tin and allegedly gold and silver.”

“If that is true, it is an impossible alloy, gold and silver wouldn’t be able to bond that way.” Nikita says, thinking aloud.

“Precisely.” Ian nods, his ascent.

Nikita purses her lips, and stands for a moment, stretching out her back. Taking her time, she steps up to the bar ordering a pot of tea. She returns to the table and settles back in her seat. “Forget science, what about alchemy?”

“Just some nonsense about the search for the philosopher’s stone and the secret to eternal life. Honestly, some of the transcripts read like a kids book.” He admits, reluctantly.

Nikita leans back in her seat and allows the server, to lay out a pot of tea with two cups and a small jug of milk waiting for her to withdraw, before speaking, “Nothing to gain there.” She closes her eyes and waits.

A moment passes between them of quiet understanding and he sighs, knowing she is right, before farrowing his brow, “What was your second question?”

“Who knew you were coming to see me?” She asks, watching for his reaction.

“Nobody. Only my.....” He cuts himself off, rubbing his chin thoughtfully, before angrily continuing, “Tom my Executive Officer. I knew the little sod was too good to be true. I will wring his bloody neck.”

“Steady on. We don’t know he set you up. The OD could be keeping him under surveillance.” Nikita offers, before adding, “If he is in on it, we could use him to get Intel on the OD. If he is being watched, we could track the watchers.”

“You are willing to help me?” He asks, surprised.

Nikita pauses for a moment and nods, “I will help with this and then, it is all you. If you settle up at the bar, I’ll get us a vehicle and we get this done.”
View my latest story, Revelation, here;

https://tugstories.com/viewtopic.php?f=17&t=8719


To view it's prequel Devastation, please click below;
https://tugstories.com/viewtopic.php?f=17&t=7458
Caesar73
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Post by Caesar73 »

You have not lost your touch [mention]wolfman[/mention] - as intense and grafic and dramatic as ever! Nikita is a fascinating character.
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GreyLord
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Post by GreyLord »

Caesar73 wrote: 11 months ago You have not lost your touch @wolfman - as intense and grafic and dramatic as ever! Nikita is a fascinating character.
Nay, you have gained in your touch, [mention]wolfman[/mention]. This is exquisite!
ImageA List of my stories:
An Unlikely Savior Completed
Spy Task Force Completed
Tale of an Archer Completed
The Bandit Scout on Newhome updated 05/30/23
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OldTUGger
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Post by OldTUGger »

OK, you have me hooked again, @wolfman! Good stuff!
Links to all of my stories can be found here in the Story Catalog: https://www.tugstories.com/viewtopic.php?f=46&t=6023
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Post by wolfman »

[mention]Caesar73[/mention] and [mention]GreyLord[/mention] , thank you for your kind words. This arc is just beginning and will push Nikita harder than she has ever been pushed before.

[mention]OldTUGger[/mention] glad to have pulled you back in, hope you enjoy all that is to come.
View my latest story, Revelation, here;

https://tugstories.com/viewtopic.php?f=17&t=8719


To view it's prequel Devastation, please click below;
https://tugstories.com/viewtopic.php?f=17&t=7458
wolfman
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Post by wolfman »

19:45 M1 Northbound, approaching Junction 14

In a dark coloured Vauxhall Insignia, Nikita keeps well within the speed limit, matching the flow of traffic, like a fish blending into a shoal. She and the Stag travel in silence, considering the events of the day.

“This smells off.” Nikita thinks, lighting a cigarette and opening the window a crack, “Ian was too quick to throw his assistant to the wolves. He went straight to him being a traitor, without entertaining other possibilities. A man in his position wouldn’t do that.”

She draws a deep lungful of smoke and exhaling slowly, “In the same way, he was too quick to dismiss the chatter about alchemy.”

Nikita glances at Ian and softly shakes her head. “He comes across as sincere enough but I just don’t know. A part of me wants to trust him, but his speech on the Orichalcum Dawn was too polished and almost reverential. I just don’t know. Am I being to twitchy?”

She drives on in silence, before the chirp of the sat navigation, snaps her out of her train of thought. Casually she clicks the indicator, preparing to leave the motorway.

“What’s the story on your Executive Officer?” Nikita asks casually, trying to keep her tone informal.

The Stag shrugs, “Jacob has been with me for just over six months, came over from the Navy. Solid service record. Couple of commendations. No blemishes on his record.” He sighs wearily, “If he is a traitor, I will need to look into those who recommended him.”

“What if he isn’t? What then?” Nikita asks, stubbing out her cigarette and guiding the vehicle on to the slip road, trying to play things cool.

Ian pauses for a moment and rubs the back of his neck, “That in some ways would be worse.”

“I’m not sure I follow.” She says, easing the saloon onto the forecourt of a petrol station.

“If he us not a traitor, then somehow, our lines of communication are compromised or I am subject to effectively invisible surveillance.” Ian confesses, before looking around confused, “Why have we stopped?”

“To set the parameters of what we are about to do.” Nikita begins, “We drive around the area, maybe a couple of blocks out. We are looking for out of place vehicles, which could be used for covert observation posts. We will also try to identify properties overlooking his, which fit the profile for a static observation post.”

“Sounds good. What then?” Ian nods, with a faraway look.

“We verify he is onsite and move in.” She says, confidently.




Nikita frowns completing her fifth circuit of Jacob’s home, and beginning another. Ian notices her expression, then asks “Something wrong?”

“Yeah.” She whispers under her breath, “No concentrations of people, or positions of vehicles, that would indicate an OP.”

“Might not mean anything. We don’t even know if he is home. A team might follow his movements without a permanent base. Or, there could be electronic surveillance.”

She concentrates on his address and chews her lip, “He or at least someone is in his house, sitting one of the downstairs rooms.”

“How on earth can you know that?” Ian asks, caught off guard.

Nikita catches herself before revealing that she has been monitoring the lifepulse in the man’s home since they arrived, instead offering, “Shadow in the window. Looks like someone sitting, hasn’t really moved.”

“Well spotted.” Ian says, with a nod of respect. “What is our move?”

“One of us needs to knock the door, covered by the other.” Nikita says, trying to keep her tone light.

“I know him, he is less likely to be spooked if I knock the door.” Ian suggests, with a thoughtful look in his eyes, “I know I can trust you to have my back.”

“Tricky bastard.” Nikita thinks, “He’s soon changed his tune. Was ready to execute him without trial not long ago.” She pulls the vehicle into the kerb, a street over from Jacob’s home. “Unless Of course, he is a traitor, then seeing you will certainly spook him.”

“Good point. What do you suggest?” He asks, with a concerned look.

“I knock the door, see his reaction and we take it from there. There is a pizza place up the road, I will grab a pizza and claim to be delivering his order.”

“That works. The rear windows of the car are tinted, I could sit in the back and ID him covertly.” Ian says, with an approving nod, “That way, when you return to the car, we can proceed with purpose.”

“My thoughts exactly.” She says lightly, while thinking, “He is just agreeing to what I say. Not suggesting much of substance, just going with the flow. His lifepulse is steady and relaxed too. He is too calm. Almost as if he is observing me, gauging my abilities.” She lights a cigarette, blowing the smoke out of the window, “Shit. Maybe that’s it. This is all a test. I am so glad I have not gone full force with the abilities I have shown him.”

“Something up?” He asks, sensing a change, he shifts his body language slightly, leaning toward her, “Everything OK?”

Nikita relaxes her posture and takes another lungful of smoke, “All good. Just centring myself, before this kicks off. Are you still armed? If this goes south, will need you to come in all guns blazing.”

He opens his jacket and pulls a suppressed Browning, handgun, “I have you covered.”

“Good to know. One thing though.” She pauses, considering her options, “Sit in the drivers seat, push it back all the way and tilt it back. You will be able to maintain eyes on, but able to get away quicker if the need arises.”




Nikita inhales deeply, as she crosses the road. The scent of the large meat feast pizza tantalisingly escapes the box and assails her nostrils. “Damn that smells good. Whatever else happens, this pizza will not become a casualty of war.”

The street is quiet at this hour. All the dogs have been walked and the revellers safely home from the local pub. The streetlights shine between the leaves of the trees lining the road casting dappled shadows on the street..

Her trainers pad softly across the tarmac. The she wears a dark track suit with the hood of her top pulled up.

“Everyone is settled.” She thinks, checking the lifepulses of those around her. “Including Jacob.” She pauses at the kerb, with the realisation, ”He hasn’t moved since we first arrived. This doesn’t feel right. His lifepulse shows signs of stress but he doesn’t move.”

She takes a deep breath approaching the door and she clears her mind, dismissing speculation of what is to come, in preparation to face it.

Relaxed and at ease, she reaches out and knocks on the door. Jacob stays precisely where he is.

She knocks again, slightly harder, the result is the same, but the feeling of stress in Jacob’s lifepulse increases

After counting to ten, she knocks once more. She gives a shrug and turns on her heel, heading back to the car.



“What’s the verdict?” Ian asks, keeping an eye on the house.

Nikita takes a slice of pizza and dips it into the tub of garlic mayo, saying, “He has not moved since we first arrived.”, before taking a large bite.

“How can you be sure?” He asks, sceptically, giving her the side eye.

“Doesn’t matter.” She says, in between bites, “He made no attempt to get up when I knocked.”

“So either he ignored you, or there is a reason he stayed seated.” He says, taking a slice of pizza.

“Precisely, this just got more complicated.” Nikita says, whilst thinking, “I need to play this low key. I get the feeling if I show my full capabilities, it will put a target on my back.”

“The longer we wait the worse this could get. He could be laying in wait for someone to enter, or the place could be booby trapped so as soon as we go in, we are toast.”

“My gut feeling is, to go in. If Jacob is under duress, he needs our help. If this is a trap, it will be designed to catch you not me.” She takes another slice of pizza, eying it thoughtfully, “We go and we have nothing. We stay there may be some trouble, but we may get another piece of the puzzle.” She devours the slice of pizza in a few short bites and snags another.

“I hate to say it, but I agree.” Ian says, reluctantly.




Nikita slowly and cautiously approaches the back door. With a gloved hand she tentatively tries the handle, confirming that the door is locked.

With a wave of her hand, she plucks a lock pick from her stash. The lock yields, like a puppy having its ear scratched and she is inside.

“No strong chemical smells or scent of anything out of place.” She realises, entering the kitchen. She removes her left glove and brushes her finger on the brushed metal of the kettle, “Stone cold, not used for a while.”

Nikita stalks across the room, replacing her glove. “The house is silent.” She pauses, hearing something, not like an animal and not quite human. “Wait. What is that noise?”

She silently opens the door to the hallway and crosses the threshold, knowing it comes from where Jacob is sitting, but not what it is.
View my latest story, Revelation, here;

https://tugstories.com/viewtopic.php?f=17&t=8719


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Post by GreyLord »

Like hooked fish, we follow your fascinating tale as you lead us on and on. Can't stop reading, even if I wished. Another cliffhanger to set the hook. Masterful, [mention]wolfman[/mention].
ImageA List of my stories:
An Unlikely Savior Completed
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Post by Caesar73 »

I am alll in hook line and sinker: This very intriguing: The cliffhanger is perfect! What willl Nikita find?
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Post by wolfman »

[mention]GreyLord[/mention] and [mention]Caesar73[/mention] , I am glad to have you still on board, the next installment will drop soon. I hope you enjoy.
View my latest story, Revelation, here;

https://tugstories.com/viewtopic.php?f=17&t=8719


To view it's prequel Devastation, please click below;
https://tugstories.com/viewtopic.php?f=17&t=7458
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Post by wolfman »

Nikita stares at the man in front of her. The waves of desperation washing off of him are almost palpable. His eyes beg for what his duct taped mouth cannot.

Almost comically, he has been wrapped in layers of tape, mummifying him to the chair, upon which he sits.

Most alarmingly and not comical in any way, is the vest he wears. The type that a hunter might wear. The main difference is the pockets drip with wires linked to the blocks within.

On instinct Nikita looks around the room. Seeking a sign of anything out of place, or of a hidden assailant, however seeing nothing.

She looks at the man and whisper, “You OK?” He thinks, for a moment and nods.

“Jacob?” She asks, watching for his response, to which he nods again.

She edges across the room, coming to a dead stop when a disembodied voice orders, “Stop where you are. Failure to comply will result in his detonation and the deaths of him, you and the families either side of this property.” The voice, pauses for a moment, “Nod if you understand.”

Nikita nods, and looks around for a moment, before seeing a camera and speaker nestled in the bookcase behind Jacob.

“Identify yourself.” The voice orders, sternly.

“Nikita Green. Who are you?” She responds, weighing up her options, in her mind, “If I dive towards Jacob, I won’t be fast enough to get him free before they activate the vest. If I leave, same effect. If I try to warn The Stag, same deal.” She purses her lips and decides, “Let’s see where this goes.”

“Please remove your jacket and await further instructions.” The voice commands, with a finality.

She shrugs off her jacket, folding it and laying it on a chair next to her before, thinking, “The voice is at once clear and distorted, can’t tell if there is an accent.”

Nikita looks up a Jacob, who is trying to dislodge the tape frantically, when the voice speaks again, “Thank you for your co-operation How many people are with you?”

“Just little old me.” She says calmly, whilst thinking, “They know they have got me banged to rights. The amount of explosives in that vest might be enough to vaporise me at this range. Doesn’t mean I need to be straight with them. Let’s see how this plays out.”

The speaker crackles and comes back to life, “Now why don’t I believe you?”

Nikita sighs and shrugs, “I couldn’t possibly say. Maybe you have mummy issues because your mum weaned you too late. Or you are frustrated with trying to take over the world from your parents basement, despite being a grown man. Alternatively, the realisation that the little blue pills just don’t cut it any more may just be too much for you.”

She smiles as the voice barks again, “Enough. Sit in the arm chair and don’t speak again.”

“I don’t think so.” Nikita says, standing defiant, “Jacob is alive for a reason. You have taken precautions to make sure he doesn’t leave and cannot interfere with the vest. We both know that you aren’t going to blow him up, because I refuse to sit.” She exhales slowly, then lights a cigarette, “So what is it you want?”

She takes a deep lungful of tobacco smoke and thinks, “Careful. Don’t poke the bear too much.”

“Suit yourself.” The voice says, dripping with sarcasm, “Thought it might be more comfortable.”

She smiles to herself, “Walked into that one. He evaded that nicely and now if I want to sit in the chair, I am following his instruction through my own choice. I don’t think he is military, but maybe a spook or government agent.”

“I’m good. But thank you for offering.” She says, warmly. “What happens now?” she asks, lightly.

“Sorry, Miss Green. This is not a movie where the player who holds all of the cards explains his plan to his captives.” The voice says calmly, composure regained. “What are you doing here?”

“Let’s have some fun. He wants cliché, i will happily oblige.” Nikita thinks, before saying, “This man works for a shadowy figure known only as The Stag. The Stag killed the only man I ever loved.”

“I am sorry for your loss.” The voice, responds with a moments hesitation. “That said, we seek this man also. I am sorry to say that he is of interest to us and therefore your claim to him ends here.”

Sensing no lifepulses in the house. Nikita ignores the bound man before her, furiously trying to shout through the tape encasing his mouth, as she continues, “I will have him and there is no limit to the hell I will unleash on anyone, who gets in my way.” Nikita says, allowing a hint of malice to creep into her voice. At the same time, she thinks, “He hesitated when I said I was after the Stag. This feels off.”

“If there is anything left of him when we are done, you can have what’s left.” The voice says, coldly.

“If you get in my way, you will meet his fate. As will your family, friends and employees. I will erase you and the memory of you from the world.” Nikita says calmly, but firmly. She thinks, “This guy is stalling for time, I have no idea why. I sense no movement in the lifepulses in the area. I have a bad feeling about this.”

“Then it seems we have a problem.” The voice says, with an eerie sense of calm.

“Yes. You do. Because if you wanted him that badly, then there is no way you would want to blow him up. You would be watching the house and the street and would have taken me out without keeping me talking. You wouldn’t take the risk that he would slip away. Which means this whole thing is a set up and you are after me.” Nikita says, ducking low and spinning around to see a man with no visible lifepulse staring back at her.




Nikita circles right, casually kicking the table back to clear some room. The man in front of her, steps forward into the light of the room.

She appraises the man, as he matches her moves, “Six feet tall, green eyes and dark hair. Lean muscle, looks after himself, but not looking to bulk up. He moves like a brawler, not formally trained, but skilled. The leather trousers and jacket look expensive, but they look like they conceal kevlar plates, no weapons though. Who are these guys?”

“I know you want to resist, but I assure you that this will be easier on you, if you come quietly.” He says, in a low insistent tone. His voice is soft, with a subtle Mediterranean accent she cannot place.

“Sorry old son. I don’t have a history of coming quietly.” Nikita says, catching the twitch in the man’s mouth. She sighs, “Yeah, yeah. I know how it sounded.”

“I won’t say a word, love.” He says, with a hint of mirth, before his tone hardens, “All joking aside, you need to stand down.”

“Not happening friend.” She says, watching his movements, closely. “He is presenting his left side, as an obvious target, but his movements are to slick. He is trying to draw me in.”

Nikita changes her stance lending a more aggressive aspect, then flicks her hand forward, feigning a strike.

The man lashes out at where he expects her to end up, striking nothing but air. Nikita strikes with the speed of a cobra, cracking her knuckles into the outside of his left wrist.

He changes his stance, drawing back his left hand and presenting his right arm for defence, forcing her to change to reflect his stance. “Not a scream, or even a wince. Matey here is tougher than he looks.” Nikita thinks, watching him closely.

Nikita keeps her distance, mindful of his reach advantage and seeks to keep him at bay with a brace of warding kicks at his midriff. “I need him to think I am afraid to get up close so he forces it, then I can take him.” She thinks, calmly.

He tests her defences, with jabs and snap kicks, only to be stymied at every turn. Nikita blocks his strikes hard, punishing his arms, but failing to draw even a slihjt grunt of pain.

When he advances, she retreats in a dance of death. Flurry exchanges punctuate their back and forth, as they feel each other out, looking for an opening.

Nikita watches him closely, noting the subtle slowing of his footwork and change of stance, “He is getting ready to lunge in.”

As if on cue, he dives at her. Nikita hardens her stance and he hits her almost bouncing off of her, like he hit a brick wall.

She slams her fist into his solar plexus and presses her attack, unleashing a flurry of jabs at his face. Connecting with more than miss.

He staggers back reeling, barely able to bring his arms up to defend again the next onslaught she launches. Blow after blow smash into his arms, wearing down his defences.

“I haven’t gone full octopoid strength, but even with my natural strength the blows he has taken should have ended him a while ago.” Nikita thinks, concerned.

Nikita snaps a kick at his face and he rears back. She surges forward to close the distance and lunge at him.

He is ready for her, sidestepping and pushing her face first into the wall that was behind him. She spins to face him and reassert her attack. “He is far too strong and tough to be a normal human, I think I have a problem here, but I dont want to go full beast mode and reveal the full extent of my abilities.”

He blocks her strikes and rolls back away from her then, pulls a metal cable from within his left sleeve. Grasping it in his left and right hands, with a foot of slack between and the rest of it still up his sleeve.

Nikita launches a right cross at the man’s temple. He sweeps the cable up and entangles it around her wrist, wrapping and trapping it tightly.

As soon as the cable touches her skin, she knows something is wrong. “I can’t sense any lifepulses and my body feels like lead, what the hell?” She reaches within herself to infuse her muscles with the strength of an octopus, but finds nothing there. “As soon as I knew he was more than human, I should have stopped holding back.”

“I need to get out of this.” She thinks, twisting her body and reaching for any aspect of herself, that could help her escape the cable, but grasping nothing in her mind. “This is bad.”

She tries to pull away, but he is too strong. Like a force of nature, he spins her around painfully twisting her arm up behind her back. A split second later, he loops the cable around her throat, pinning her wrist, just below the nape of her neck.

With a flick of his wrist, he loops another coil of the cable around her neck, pulling it snug. “Relax, love. You are done.”

She slams her head back as hard as she can, connecting with his nose, earning a grunt of pain from him as she struggles to breath. “I can’t dislodge the cable.” She thinks beginning to quietly panic, “I have been so stupid. I should have told someone where I was.”

Nikita thrusts her free arm backwards, hoping to connect with her elbow but only succeeding in letting him grab her wrist and pull it up her back to be cable bound like its twin.

With oxygen starvation, slowing her, she picks her right foot off of the floor and presses it to the wall and heaves with all of her waning strength, forcing her and her assailant back.

He trips and stumbles backwards, losing his grip for a moment. Nikita cannot free her arms, but runs trying to get to the front door, with her wrists bound just under the nape of her neck.

“If I can get to the door, I can alert Ian.” Nikita thinks, forcing herself to put one foot in front of the other, with black spots growing at the periphery of her vision.

Nikita’s heart leaps with joy, setting foot on the front doormat. She twist and bends over, reaching for the door handle. She feels her fingers brush the cool metal of the handle, with her vision darkening and her blood pounding in her ears.

In that moment, her assailant heaves his end of the cable and reels her back in.
View my latest story, Revelation, here;

https://tugstories.com/viewtopic.php?f=17&t=8719


To view it's prequel Devastation, please click below;
https://tugstories.com/viewtopic.php?f=17&t=7458
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Post by GreyLord »

Your tale retains its fascination. And you have answered a question that has been bothering me. I have been wondering how Nikita could be tied up effectively. Now you have shown us.
ImageA List of my stories:
An Unlikely Savior Completed
Spy Task Force Completed
Tale of an Archer Completed
The Bandit Scout on Newhome updated 05/30/23
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Post by Caesar73 »

Truly excellent the fight between Nikita and the intruder - and if we look at the end? Nikita´s Problems have just begun!
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Post by wolfman »

GreyLord wrote: 11 months ago Your tale retains its fascination. And you have answered a question that has been bothering me. I have been wondering how Nikita could be tied up effectively. Now you have shown us.
There have always been options, but as yet, I have not explored them, such as special abilities, ultra tech and magic. I like the challenge of making the characters so hard to restrain and I have ti find a way to do it.
Caesar73 wrote: 11 months ago Truly excellent the fight between Nikita and the intruder - and if we look at the end? Nikita´s Problems have just begun!
I am glad you liked the fight. Her problems are indeed only beginning. Nijita will be tested like never before in this arc. Sometimes it may seem hopeless. With only her courage and determination to save her. But will it be enough
View my latest story, Revelation, here;

https://tugstories.com/viewtopic.php?f=17&t=8719


To view it's prequel Devastation, please click below;
https://tugstories.com/viewtopic.php?f=17&t=7458
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Post by Caesar73 »

Sounds like quite the wild ride to Nikita [mention]wolfman[/mention] - bur personally I think, she deserves some closure at least .
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Post by wolfman »

The assailant stands over Nikita’s body and watches for a moment, dispassionately. He reaches down, casually taking her pulse with two fingers.

Satisfied that she is still alive, he unwraps her left wrist and throat, leaving her right wrist bound for now.

He casually looks up at Jacob, to see the bound man glaring angrily at him. Slowly and deliberately, he reaches into his bag and pulls out a ten inch nail and a large hammer, placing them on the coffee table, so Jacob can see them. He purses his lips and coldly says, “Stop staring or when I leave, I will nail that plug up your ass to your pelvis.”

Visibly shaken, Jacob closes his eyes and bows his head. The man looks down at Nikita and pulls out a pair of medic’s shears.

With quick but unhurried precision, he slices her clothes off, until she is as naked as the day she was born. He rubs his hands across her skin, quickly and professionally and mumbles under his breath, “Nothing under her skin.”

He leans back and slowly retrieves his bag. Without emotion he sorts its contents, before setting to work.

He locks a tight fitting metal sphere around her right hand, forcing it into a fist, following up with her left. He then locks an eight inch cylinder around each of her forearms locking nearest and further parts away from her wrists together with a heavy duty padlock, forcing her elbows to almost touch behind her back.

Even when he lays her down, her arms are pulled back and her chest pushed out. Conscious of time and that his prisoner may wake at any time, he locks a four inch wide metal band around, each of her ankles, before locking them together, at the furthest and closest parts to her ankles

With something approaching sadness in his eyes, he secure wide metal cuffs around her upper arms, further forcing her elbows together. Jacob watches in horror, as the man secures one end of a metal cable to the lower lock of her ankle cuffs and threads the other end through her upper arm cuffs and slowly pulls increasing the tension until her back is painfully arched, leaving her heels hovering over her forearms.



Nikita wakes into a world of pain from her limbs and back. She screams in agony, until the man stifles her cry, clamping her mouth shut, with an impossibly strong grip.

He forces her to lift her gaze and whispers gently, “You made a mistake by holding back, as a result you are in a world of trouble. However, I assure you that if you scream again, that will be a bigger mistake, with harsher consequences.”

Nikita bits down on the pain and glares angrily at the man, hissing. “I know, I should have hit you with everything I had, you bastard. No need to rub it in.”

He reaches into his bag and pulls out a sponge and a leather bundle. She shakes her head trying to pull away, as he forces her mouth open and rams the sponge in. She gags slightly feeling it filling her mouth and struggles to push it out when he takes his hand away.

The man then snatches up the leather bundle and unfolds it, before he presses the leather mask to her face and pulls it over her head. The mask covers her face leaving only two small holes for her nostrils, allowing her to breath.

The mask has kevlar inserts around her jaw and lower face, which clamps her teeth together, biting down on the sponge, as he adjusts the straps, softly explaining, “You have something very special in your blood that those who have retained my services can use, as a universal catalyst allowing the transubstantiation of elements. With it they will usher in a new era of peace under their rule. That makes you a valuable commodity.”

With practiced ease, he snaps a wide metal collar around her throat. The fit is snug pressing her neck gently from all sides as a reminder of her captivity.

In the dark and in pain she fights to control her breathing, trying every trick she knows and failing. Heedless of her surroundings, she confirms that she cannot access any of her abilities and is as weak as a kitten.

A gentle, warm hand on her shoulder chills her blood, but the words with the hand freezes her core. “Hush child. There is nothing for you to do but breath. The restraints you wear are laced with Orichalcum and as long, as they touch your skin, you are blocked from accessing your abilities.”

Almost casually, he clips a short length of metal cable to a ring on the crown of the facemask and threads the end between the restraints securing her upper arms. Slowly he pulls the cable, forcing her head up off the floor, so she is forced to look straight ahead.

He pauses, fumbling for something in his bag before he speaks again. “For what it’s worth, I am sorry that you are awake for this next bit.”

She stifles a cry, feeling a pressure against her rectum, squealing slightly when the pressure overcomes her resistance and she is invaded, by something that feels enormous. In her mind she screams, “You miserable wanker. I am going to chew you up and shit you out, into a vat of maggots you bastard.”

He pins her down while she is thrashing in pain and efficiently fits a catheter, pushing the tube deep into her urethra. “Sorry about the plug and the catheter, but I don’t want to have to clean you up and I certainly don’t want to free you.”

Nikita sobs softly at the pain and indignation she feels, barely registering his voice when her softly says, “As of this moment, you are no longer Nikita Green. You are now the property of the Orichalcum Dawn. May whichever God you follow, save your soul.”



The man takes a breath, sitting on the sofa, staring down at his prisoners futile struggles. Calmly, he takes out his phone and starts a video call.

An elegant looking woman with platinum blonde hair answers, sharply, “Yes?”

“Target acquired.” He says, calmly.

“Show me.” She commands, with a concerned tone.

He turns the camera to face Nikita and films her for a few moments, before turning the camera back to himself. “Satisfied?”

“She looks in good condition. Possible overkill on her restraints. Could you please remove some of them? We want her for the help she can give us. If you’re actions or treatment of her jeopardises that, there will be a hefty price to pay.” She commands.

“No. They are in place for my safety. If she incurs damage she will heal.” He says, harshly.

“I don’t care. I give the orders, we are paying you to bring her in. We wanted you to invite her, not kidnap her. Do as you're told.” She hisses angrily.

“No your worship, you instructed me to bring her in, any means necessary. And for the record, given the power of this woman, you do not give me orders. You may make requests which I am free to ignore, should I choose to do so ” He snaps back.

“I and His Majesty need her unharmed and if you want to be paid, you will do as you are told.” She pleads.

He waits for a few moments, until her breathing slows, “To help you understand who has the power here, the price has just doubled, to be paid within twelve hours. Failure to do so and I will release her piece by piece and tell her family, who you are and where to find you.”

“Now listen.....” She begins, indignant before he cuts her off.

“No. You listen, you stuck up bitch. Yes you have money. However, I have the skills and practical resources to get that which you require. More to the point t, I have her. So from this moment forward, you will give me the respect I am due or you and she will pay the price.” His tone is both calm and malicious, punctuated with a sharp kick to Nikita’s ribs, before concluding, “Do you understand?”

“Fine.” She says, abruptly ending the call.



The man reaches into his bag and pulls out a holdall, opening it out. He reaches down and grasps the cable between Nikita’s ankles and upper arms. Lifting her with a heave, she grunts at the strain until he sets her down in the holdall.

He presses her down, forcing the memory foam pad in the bottom of the bag to mould to her. Even when the pressure is released, the foam mostly retains its shape.

Nikita struggles weakly, feeling another pad pressed on top of her, slowly enveloping her until she is encased and immobile.

With some effort, he manages to secure the zip on the bag and lock it with a padlock.

He looks up at the man in the chair and speaks softly, “Thank you for not staring. I guess that I will leave my hammer and nails alone today. Your boss is still outside and will probably decide to check on things in an hour or so. Sorry for any inconvenience.”

He picks up the holdall and makes sure he has everything he brought, safely in his bag and exits via a rear door, with a wave.



Inside the bag, Nikita tries in vain to move in any meaningful way and knows that the padding around her, will render her all but silent to anyone more than a metre from her.

She takes a slow deep breath and centres herself, “Okay. This is bad. I have not been this helpless since I was at Medteqniq being chopped up.”

Unable to do anything else, she relaxes, “Focus on what you know.”

“I am wanted by the Orichalcum Dawn because of something in my blood. How did he put it?” Nikita thinks, trying to recall, “Something about a catalyst? Best guess is PCS. Which would make targeting me make sense, due to the level of it in my blood.”

“So if that is the why and who taken care of, where are we going?” Nikita wonders, “At least twelve hours away. He would not be able to get me through an airport in this bag. Same for Eurotunnel. Maybe a boat.” Nikita strains to move, “Not a boat, a ship. Cargo liner maybe in a shipping container.”

She tries to twist to take a little of the strain out of her neck muscles, “Does that help me?” She takes as deep a breath as the memory foam allows, to relax, “Maybe. If it is a container ship, then he might take a chance of us being in a container and grant some level of freedom.”

She rests for a moment, embracing her stillness before continuing her ruminations, “And what of the man who captured me? He seems competent and well trained, but not military. He likes to be in charge and dislikes being challenged. He seems cautious, even in the fight he held back and picked his moment carefully.”

“One thing is for sure. He is careful and if I get an opening, it might be small and I will only get one. I need to be as ready as I can be.” She decides, firmly.

Nikita takes slow deep breathes and allows her thoughts to drift and slowly she empties her mind becoming aware of every part of herself and taking her time she clenches and releases each individual muscle in her body.
View my latest story, Revelation, here;

https://tugstories.com/viewtopic.php?f=17&t=8719


To view it's prequel Devastation, please click below;
https://tugstories.com/viewtopic.php?f=17&t=7458
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Post by Caesar73 »

What a Drama is unfolding here, Nikita has been in tight spots before but this one seems to be a tough one. At the moment her kidnapper seems to hold all aces. The Telefoncall makes that clear. Nikita is about to be delivered to a mysterious organization that needs her help. At the moment it seems doubtful that Nikita will get an opening so soon. Excellent!
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Post by GreyLord »

Nikita is in a tight and restrictive hogtie, indeed. It is not clear that forcing her head back makes her any more harmless. She appeared to be totally helpless before he did that. However, I am sure she makes a pretty picture. Too bad it going to waste with her surrounded by memory foam and encased in a carryall. Exciting chapter, [mention]wolfman[/mention].
ImageA List of my stories:
An Unlikely Savior Completed
Spy Task Force Completed
Tale of an Archer Completed
The Bandit Scout on Newhome updated 05/30/23
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Post by wolfman »

Fear not, [mention]Caesar73[/mention] and [mention]GreyLord[/mention], Nikita will be spending some time helpless and in peril. But will she be able to create an opening?
View my latest story, Revelation, here;

https://tugstories.com/viewtopic.php?f=17&t=8719


To view it's prequel Devastation, please click below;
https://tugstories.com/viewtopic.php?f=17&t=7458
GreyLord
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Post by GreyLord »

wolfman wrote: 11 months ago Fear not, @Caesar73 and @GreyLord, Nikita will be spending some time helpless and in peril. But will she be able to create an opening?
I would place at least a small bet that Nikita will find an opening, whether she creates it or not. I don't think that the [mention]wolfman[/mention] would be so cruel as to not make that happen. :roll:
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Caesar73
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Post by Caesar73 »

GreyLord wrote: 11 months ago
wolfman wrote: 11 months ago Fear not, @Caesar73 and @GreyLord, Nikita will be spending some time helpless and in peril. But will she be able to create an opening?
I would place at least a small bet that Nikita will find an opening, whether she creates it or not. I don't think that the @wolfman would be so cruel as to not make that happen. :roll:
I second that motion [mention]GreyLord[/mention] :) Be it as it may? Very intriguing development so far [mention]wolfman[/mention] !
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wolfman
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Post by wolfman »

Nikita feels the bag she is in being carried, then set down on the ground. She cannot say for sure, how long she has been trapped in it, but the fire burning in her limbs tells her it is at least four hours. “Well this is shit.” She thinks, trying to flex the individual cords of muscles to gain some limited relief.

She waits and tries to listen out for any clues as to what is going on, when she hears a heavy metal door clang shut and heavy bolts slid into place.

The low burr of the bags zip being undone fills her ears and she and feels the pressure on her body ease slightly. A moment later, the pressure is fully released when the pad above her is removed from the bag.

Nikita groans when her captor once again seizes the cable between her ankles and upper arms and lifts her from the bag.

He places her on the floor and takes a step back. “Are you OK?” He asks, dryly.

She nods as best she can, thinking, “Don’t give him a reason to make things worse. Try not to antagonise him, at least for now.”

Nikita feels the tension in the cable pulling her head back, ease and feels a hand on her forehead stopping her from lowering her head too quickly.

“We are in a sound proof container. Any noise you make will only annoy me. No one is coming to help you.” The man says, pausing for a moment before asking, “Do you understand?”

Tentatively she nods, trying not to aggravate the knots, in the muscles of her neck. She remains still, when she feels the man fumble with the straps of the face mask, first loosening it and then removing it and pulling free the sponge in her mouth.

She gasps for air, finally able to take deep breaths and blinks in the light. “Thank you.”

“Why are you thanking me? You don’t know why I have taken the mask off yet.” He says, without emotion.

She looks up at him, where he stands over her, thinking, “He is playing games. So I will play straight.”

She takes a deep breath and speaks softly, “Whilst that is true, I think I may have some sense of you. You seem professional and thorough. I am saying thank you because, I am grateful.”

Something almost imperceptible softens in her eyes and stance, “You are welcome. I will admit that there is a reason that I have removed the mask. Truth is, I would like to talk to you for a few moments.”

Nikita nods softly and shrugs, “Well, you have my full attention. What would you like to talk to me about?”

He bends down and slips his hands under her, gently lifting her. He lays her on one of the two cots in the shipping container and rolls her onto her side, to face him.

He takes a seat on the floor next to the cot and looks into her eyes for a moment. “We will be in here for a few days and I don’t want to keep you as heavily restrained as you are. I need to know, if I go easy on you, will you behave yourself.”

Nikita decides to be honest, “I would appreciate it and will toe the line. However, I am not going to lie, if I have a chance for freedom, I will probably take it.”

He opens his mouth to speak and closes it again, eying her curiously, “I set you up.” He begins, “I primed the Stag, with an issue that he would need your help with, knowing you would turn him down and send him off with a flea in his ear. Then set up an ambush knowing you would help him.”

He takes a moment to brush some hair out of Nikita’s face, before continuing, “I read all of your mission logs and every piece of Intel I could find on you and I had a solid picture of what would happen today. My prep was perfect, right down to the custom made restraints, designed to fit you perfectly.”

Nikita listens to him speak, thinking, “Where is this going?” She watches his body language and feels confused, “He is totally relaxed and at ease, but there is something on his mind.”

“Everything indicated that you would fight back like a Hellion and hold nothing back, just like your sisters, which to be fair, you didn’t do. Psyche reports indicated that you would either go catatonic or ballistic once restrained, knowing that you will basically be farmed, based on your past.” He shakes his head, “However, here you are. Completely lucid.”

He looks at her for a moment, trying to find some truth in her eyes, “Why did you hold back?”

“Honestly? “She asks rhetorically, “I didn’t and still don’t trust the Stag and didn’t want to show too many of my capabilities and put a target on my back.” She pauses for a moment, “For what it’s worth, I regret holding back.”

He can’t help but suppress a smile, “I’m sure you do.” He sighs, “Now I have a problem. You have said you will try to escape if you get the chance, however, I could just leave you are you are and problem solved.”

Nikita decides to take a chance, “That is a problem. To be fair, logic would dictate, leaving me as I am. I guess the question in light of that is, why would you change my restraints?”

“Indeed that is the question.” He says softly. “I know we will be travelling for a while and the damage your current position will do to your body, would be considerable.”

Nikita frowns, “If that is the case, why the argument with the woman who I am guessing hired you about removing some of the restraints.”

“The High Priestess likes to think she is in charge. It pays to remind her, who really has the power.” He confesses with a shrug.

“High Priestess? Really? Has she paid up yet?” Nikita asks, curiously.

“Not yet. Still a few hours to go.” He says, with an even, controlled tone.

Nikita thinks for a moment and takes a chance, “If she doesn’t, I will pay.”

“You will pay?” he asks, with a snort of derision, “Do you have eight million pounds to spare?”

“It appears that despite your research, you still have much to learn about me. With a phone call and a bottle of good rum, I can get it.” Nikita says, with a smile.

“I will bear that in mind.” He says thoughtfully, “I am going to trust you, for now.”



Nikita grunts in pain as the cable securing her ankle to her elbow restraints is loosened and removed allowing her to straighten her legs.

He unlocks the metal bands around her ankles and removes them. Replacing them with leg cuffs separated by a foot of chain threaded through a bar at the foot of the bed. Next he removes the metal bands securing her forearms but leaves her hands in the spheres. He climbs on her back, straddling her rump before her removes the restraints on her upper arms. He takes her wrists and moves them to the head of the bed and handcuffs them to the bar of the cot that serves as a headboard.

Nikita feels him climb off of her and wriggles on a bed a little to get comfortable, as she lays chained on her front. “Wrists locked to opposite corners with these balls on my hands and feet chained so I am slightly stretched. Not much chance of getting out of this position either.” She thinks, unhappily.

He places his hands on her thighs and works the muscles of her legs with his strong, firm hands. She closes her eyes and thinks, “Despite the oddness of the circumstance this does feel quite nice, in a really odd way. I suspect he is trying to lull me into a false sense of security.”

She sighs feeling his hands grip her left foot. His thumbs work the ball and sole of her foot, draining all tension from it before he works her other foot.

Nikita sighs, closing her eyes just enough to let him think she was relaxing but enough so she could see a little, so she can review the layout of the space they occupy.

“The two cots are the far end of the container, furthest from the door. Chemical toilet by the door. Small food prep area. Not much room to move around but I have stayed in worse places. This seems a little smaller than the inside of some containers, probably due to the sound proofing. Some pulleys and other lifting gear, with the smell of engine oil here, I am guessing it is sometimes repurposed as a workshop.” She muses as he works the muscles of her lower back, working his way up.

“If there is nothing you can do, do nothing.” Nikita thinks, allowing herself to relax and enjoy the sensation of the massage as her captor works the muscles of her shoulders.

He works in silence, with utter focus his fingers and thumbs probe and kneed the knots in his captives muscles, moving on as soon as the knot is gone, ensuring her caresses every inch of her flesh.



“Thank you. I know you didn’t need to do that, but I appreciate your efforts.” Nikita says, with a little warmth.

“No problem. To be honest you have a great figure and it is no great chore to explore it.” He says, with a shrug.

She allows gentle laugh to escape, between her lips, “Perk of the job, eh?”

His phone beeps and he scoops it up and stares at the screen for a moment, then sets it down with a scowl in his eyes. “Er, sorry. What did you say?”

“Perk of the job. Kidnapping people so you can have your wicked way with them.” Nikita says, then almost immediately regrets it, fearing she has gone to far.

His eyes flash with anger and he grabs the facemask again. Nikita tries to twist away, pleading, “I am so sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you. Please.” Any further words are lost to the sponge jammed forcefully into her mouth and the masks unforgiving interior, as it is pulled tightly over her head and around her face clamping her mouth shut.

“I give you some measure of relief and you insult me, as if I am some degenerate. How dare you?” He growls angrily.

Nikita feels her wrists unlocked and then brutally re-secured behind her back with metal cables. He pulls them tight and she winces as they bite into the tender skin and flesh of her wrists. She grunts in pain, feeling her elbows pulled back and bound viciously together with more cable. She tries weakly to resist, when he releases her ankles from the cuffs and binds them tightly with more cable. “OK. He really is a bear not to be poked. For someone so professional, he is really thin skinned. I will have to work hard to get him back onside, if that is even possible.”

Nikita tries to twist away from him as he loops a cable around the bindings between her wrists. She hears him walk away from the cot and tinker with something in the centre of the room. “You mock my kindness, so you will suffer my cruelty.”

She hear a grinding of gears and a moment later screams, unable to stop herself from being dragged backwards towards the centre of the container.

Nikita howls in pain, as she is dragged off of the bed, landing hard on her behind, ramming the plug deeper inside her. She scrambles to stop herself, or at least slow her progress but it is no use.

She braces herself for the worst, feeling her wrists pulled higher, the closer she gets to the middle of the room, “He has me hooked to the pulley and is going to make me stand with my hands high in the air behind me.” She thinks, fearfully.

He pays no heed to her whimpers and cries as the cable ascends, instead dispassionately watching, as her hands raise higher and higher, until her feet no longer touch the ground and she hangs over a foot off of the floor “Keep still if you can, otherwise you’ll dislocate your shoulders.” He says, coldly, locking the chain between her ankle cuffs to a ring set in the floor.

He ignores her heavily muffled pleas and lays on his cot. He closes his eyes and lets her pain filled pleas be his lullaby guiding him to sleep.



Nikita hangs limply from her wrists, mournfully sobbing. Unable to gain any relief she resigns herself to her situation, “I cannot get free without help. The cables are too tight and my hands are useless inside these balls.”

“This guy is skilled, but highly unstable. I cannot rely on his cooperation if it comes down to it and there is no way I can trust him.” She takes a long slow breath and hangs her head, coming to a sombre realisation. “He is a narcissist, who needs to control everyone and everything around him. He wants total dominance without resistance. Also, he seems to be able to use Orichalcum without hindrance. I am going to have to watch the backchat and play his game.”

“This guy will make a mistake and I will end him quick.” Nikita thinks morbidly. “This is a waste of the little time, I have left.”

Nikita hangs in sleepless darkness, feeling the slow trickle of blood from her brutal wrist and elbow bindings, make is way down her arms. In enforced silence and agony, she begins darkly planning his end.
View my latest story, Revelation, here;

https://tugstories.com/viewtopic.php?f=17&t=8719


To view it's prequel Devastation, please click below;
https://tugstories.com/viewtopic.php?f=17&t=7458
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