Becca Xxx: Dangerous Cargo

Authors note: - This is a follow on to the previous episodes of Becca XXX Dangerous Cargo. Please read them before reading this or you will not understand the plot or characters

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Becca XXX. Dangerous Cargo. Ch 07

Waking up feeling dehydrated was becoming a habit of mine. I had to peel my dry lips apart so that I could take a sip of water. My neck was painful from sleeping in an awkward position on the sofa and my joints felt stiff and achy.

"Fuck!" I swore out loud as I let out a long yawn and stretched the lactic acid from my muscles.

I looked at the clock on the wall and realised that I'd slept for over nine hours straight. It was six-thirty in the morning and I'd slept right through. Mental and physical exhaustion had taken its toll on me and my body had literally shut itself down until it recovered.

As I stretched and yawned, I got a whiff of myself and it wasn't pleasant. My sweaty eight-mile run had left me stinking and clammy and I was in desperate need of a shower or a bath. My boy shorts felt damp against my labia and I knew I was creamy down there. My pussy always seemed to be wet no matter what I experienced.

I got up and drank a couple of glasses of water while I tried to wake up. My legs felt like lead from the run and I was ravenous to replenish my spent energy. As I tried to decide what to make myself for breakfast, my phone buzzed on the sofa.

Buzz-buzz. Buzz-buzz.

It was always set to silent in case I was hiding from the enemy or snooping around somewhere that I shouldn't be.

As I picked it up, I saw that it was Lexa calling me and I knew I was in trouble. I was supposed to call her last night, but I'd fallen asleep before I had gotten the chance and I now knew that I was going to get an earful from her for not checking in. I hadn't even told her that I was going to check out the pub and warehouse so I hoped she wouldn't be too pissed off with me when I confessed to my night time adventure.

"Becca. Are you alright?" she asked in a panicked voice.

"I'm a bit tired, but apart from that, I'm fine. How are you?" I yawned, nonchalantly.

"I'd be a lot better if I wasn't doing damage control for you and Natalie," she snapped.

"What are you on about? Oh... you mean Natalie appearing on the news the other night?" I giggled. "Yes, I saw that."

"It's not just her. Have you seen the news this morning?"

"Not yet, but let me take a guess what it's about. The police have found two dead drug-dealers in a warehouse. Correct?"

"Exactly, but that's not all. Turn on the TV. It's a lot more serious than that."

I picked up the remote control, wondering what she was so concerned about. As I turned on the TV and switched it to the news channel, it soon became clear to me.

"Oh shit," I gasped.

"Oh shit, indeed. I'm pretty sure that's you in the photo. Right?"

I was staring at a grainy photograph which showed a woman dressed in black, with a hood hiding her face. The news reporter was saying that the police had found two known criminals, shot dead in a warehouse on Wednesday night. There had been reports of gunfire and the police had attended the scene where they made the gruesome discovery. They were appealing for witnesses to come forward with any information they might have.

They were particularly interested in speaking to a female runner who was seen in the area, shortly after the shooting.

I suddenly felt hot at the thought of being wanted for murder. My empty stomach churned and I felt sick. I'd never been remotely interested in being famous and now, here I was, with my picture all over the news for all the wrong reasons. No doubt I'd be front-page headlines in the morning newspapers too.

"That's me alright. What the fuck? Does anybody know it's me?" I asked.

"Fortunately, not. That's the best picture they have of you, but I'd recognise that sexy body anywhere," she said. "I knew it was you as soon as I saw it."

"Where the hell did they get that picture from?"

"There were cctv cameras outside the shops. They captured you leaving the scene. What the hell happened last night and what were you doing there?" she said, sounding pissed off with me.

"My fucking job," I snapped back. "I took as many precautions as I could. It looks like wearing a hoody did a good job of hiding my face."

"Well, I think that's more down to luck than judgement, don't you? Why are there two dead gang members lying in a partly demolished warehouse?"

"I was looking for the sub-machine guns. Based on the intel you sent me about Brian's movements, I thought that place might be being used by him and his network. Brian had spent a few hours outside that location, so I thought I'd go and check it out," I explained.

"And?"

"I didn't find anything. There was nothing of significance there. The place appears to have been a red herring."

"And yet two corpses were found there, having been shot in the head at close quarters. Would you mind explaining to me how that happened?"

"They were dealing drugs at the shops. One of The Mancs tried to steal their stash and I got caught up in the middle of it."

"Did you kill those men?"

"Of course I did. They were going to execute a young kid who must have been in his late teens at the most. I had to intervene," I replied.

"So, you killed two of Brian's boys to save a rival gang member?"

"Absolutely. The fact that they were two of the guys who tried to rape me on Friday night, makes it even more fitting," I giggled.

"This is no laughing matter, Becca. I told you to be careful who you hospitalised. Your actions have a habit of coming back to haunt you," she pointed out. "What happened to the kid?"

"I let him go back to The Mancs. He told me if he went back to his crew empty handed, he'd probably end up dead."

"So, you gave him the drugs? My god, Becca. What were you thinking?" she gasped

"I didn't give him the drugs. I gave him a pistol and told him to claim responsibility for the killings," I corrected her. "I figured it would cover my tracks. The Lees already think their rivals are causing all the problems. At least it distracts them from the truth."

"Well, it certainly had the desired effect. Keep watching the news. There was another gangland killing a few hours later by The Lees. It's becoming tit-for-tat with these guys and The Lees wanted instant revenge. They attacked a car at a known stronghold of The Mancs and have a guess what type of weapon was used?"

"An MP7?" I sighed.

"Correct."

"That makes sense. I saw Brian and a van load of guys leaving the Slaughtered Lamb pub last night. I figured they'd be out for revenge."

"What time was that?"

"About eight thirty."

"That fits in," she stated.

As she said that, the news reporter continued. A second shooting had taken place outside a pub called The Merry Monk. The TV showed a car with broken windows which was riddled with bullet holes. Three men who were known to the police had been killed in a drive-by shooting using automatic weapons. Again, police were appealing for witnesses.

"Holy shit. At least this proves that Brian was involved in it. I definitely saw him getting into a white van with a large green bag. The bag looked heavy and could easily have contained the MP7's."

"Luckily, no one else was killed, but I've got to go and explain this to the police chief and get your face taken off the news. It was bad enough seeing Natalie at the protests, but you've gone one step further."

"I'm sorry, I had no idea," I apologised. "At least that's another five drug dealers off the streets. It looks like my plan worked. It forced Brian to show his hand and now we know it's definitely him doing the shootings."

"I suppose that is one good thing that came out of it," she agreed. "But you need to up your game and find the source."

"That's what I'm trying to do," I snapped. "I was being proactive."

She went quiet for a moment as the news report faded into something else.

"How did you get hold of a weapon?" she suddenly asked.

"What?"

"You said that you shot them both. Where did you get your gun from?"

I let out a long sigh. There was no point in lying to her, she'd find out sooner or later anyway. As soon as they tried to match the weapons to the crime scene, they would know it wasn't the same gun.

"I used a Makarov," I admitted.

"For fucks sake, Becca, I had a feeling that you never handed all the weapons back in after your last assignment."

"Well, it's a good job I still had it," I protested. "It would have gone very differently if I hadn't."

"I suppose you're right... but you're not supposed to be armed without authorisation. Why didn't you tell me about it?"

"I figured it was better to beg for forgiveness rather than ask for permission," I laughed.

"Very funny, but now I have to explain to the police that one of my agents has been walking the streets with a Russian pistol about her person. They like to know about these things in advance."

"The police have got nothing to complain about. My actions are thinning out the numbers for them. There are four rapists off the street; two of which are now dead. John Patterson's gone, plus three other members of The Mancs. I've done more damage to this criminal network in five days than they have in years."

"I'll be sure to point that out to them. I know what you're saying is right, but we still have rules to follow. Dead men can't speak, but you need to be careful that this kid who you let go, doesn't come crawling out of the woodwork," she replied.

"I doubt I'll ever see him again. I'm trying to infiltrate The Lees, not The Mancs."

"That doesn't matter. If he sees you, he could blow your cover and then you'll be in a whole world of trouble. The Lees will want you dead and The Mancs will want an explanation. Just keep your head down and find the source, you're not there to take on the drug gangs," she instructed.

"I know that. These things just seem to happen to me and I have to go with the flow. Hopefully, I'll get a bit closer to Brian on Saturday night. That's my only real lead," I replied.

"Let's hope so. Just concentrate on Brian and forget about The Lees and The Mancs. The police will be sorting all that out once you're done," she said. "Now, is there anything else to report? Is there anything else you've not told me?" she sounded like a mother asking her child to admit to something before she found out about it from someone else.

"I don't think so. Oh... wait... there was one other thing... me and Steph fucked each other on Tuesday night," I laughed.

"I meant about the mission," she sighed.

I imagined her rolling her eyes at me at the other end of the phone.

"No, I can't think of anything. I've got a bag of cocaine sitting on my kitchen table though. I'm not sure what to do with it."

I didn't mention the two-grand in cash which was also in my bag. I was planning on keeping that to add to my emergency fund.

"Is that the bag you took from the dealers who you killed?"

"Yes. I didn't want to leave it lying around. What do you suggest I do with it?"

"Keep hold of it for now. We quite often use drugs like that to pay people off for information, they don't always want cash. I'm sure it will come in handy for something."

"Ok. I'll hide it at the back of the wardrobe, just in case. I better go, I need to get ready for work," I said, trying to sign off.

"OK, but keep me informed of any more rash decisions before you carry them out, Becca. Stay safe and I'll see you soon."

I wanted to ask her about Natalie, Tony and the numbers and about where I fitted in to the bigger picture, but I thought better of it. I was already in trouble and I didn't want to push my luck with Lexa. Not now that I was starting to get somewhere with Brian. She could easily have me pulled off the assignment and that's the last thing that I wanted.

"Will do, boss. I love you."

"I love you more."

She hung up.

****

Thursday and Friday had been pretty uneventful at work, apart from a very brief meeting with Brian on Friday morning. He seemed a little flustered, maybe by the death of two of his gang. He had caught me in passing and had told me that he'd pick me up on Saturday night from my flat on the Cedars Estate. I had asked him if I needed to bring anything or dress in a certain way and he'd told me to just come as I was, in comfortable clothing.

That had left me in a bit of a dilemma, as I had no idea what he wanted me to do for him. I doubted I'd be running around with my very own MP7, but I also doubted that I'd be going to a five-star restaurant for a romantic meal for two. In fact, he'd been deliberately vague about the whole thing. I assumed he was testing my intuition so I opted for a safe option.

I wore a pair of blue-denim jeans and flat-soled ankle boots. The boots looked fashionable, but were also practical enough for me to be able to run if I needed to. I wore a tight-fitting, grey T-shirt with the slogan "Crack Whore" written on the front in white lettering. I thought it was quite apt if I was going to be hanging around with drug dealers and it also made out that I was easy. Even picking out clothing when undercover, required a lot of skill and judgement. I only hoped that I was making the right decision. I finished the outfit with a black leather biker's jacket to look a little more menacing.

My aim was to fit in with these criminals without looking like I was trying too hard. Getting the balance right was crucial. If I underwhelmed people, they would see me as a shy and timid addition to the gang and I would be an outcast from the start. If I overdid my look, they might see through it and think I was an undercover police officer, which would be even more dangerous for me. Just because Brian trusted me, didn't mean that the rest of his people would. I had to be careful.

Based on this, I decided to change my hair style for the night. I'd always liked the look of female Viking warriors and I loved the way they wore their hair. Their hair style consisted of tight side-braids above the ears, transitioning into a more gentle, flowing appearance at the back. Not only did it look sexy, it also changed my appearance in case anyone recognised me from the news report. My face had been covered when the cctv had captured me, but I wasn't taking any chances. The style also gave me a harsher appearance and a more intimidating persona, portraying someone who was feminine, but one who was not to be messed with. It had taken me an hour to do my hair, starting with the temple braids and moving on to the side braids. I only did the right-hand side of my head, leaving the other side to hang loose. My fringe was swept back over the top and then blended with the rest of my hair which I wore loose and natural.

My thoughts turned to Natalie at times like this. She'd have made light work of doing my hair and she'd have said that I looked like one bad-ass bitch. She'd also love the underwear I was wearing. As I had no idea what I was getting myself into, I decided to cover all bases. My outer wear may have looked skanky, but I chose some flimsy delicate underwear. I wore skimpy, red satin knickers and a matching bra. They were sexy and comfortable so they killed two birds with one stone. I doubted anyone would be seeing them anyway.

Finally, I had decided to arm myself for the evening, but not with the Makarov. I had spent the afternoon mulling it over, but I'd decided that it would be suicidal to go out with a pistol stuffed down the back of my jeans. Instead, I had opted for the flick knife. I had unpicked the stitching on the inside of my jacket to create a small pocket inside the lining, large enough to conceal the six-inch black knife. It sat vertically along the seam that ran from my armpit to my waist and would be practically undetectable. It was a risk, but after what had happened at the warehouse, I wasn't taking any chances.

The time was fast approaching seven o'clock, which was my pick-up time, so I downed a shot of vodka to steady my nerves and left my flat. I placed the paper tell in the door frame and took the lift to the lobby. There was no point in doing any counter-surveillance, Brian already knew where I lived. I had filled in the job application form with my address after all.

It was a freezing cold night with clear skies and the pavement was already starting to feel slippery underfoot. The frost was starting to take hold as I walked to the bus stop with my hands in my jacket pockets. Brian's car was already waiting for me, with fumes steaming from the exhaust pipe. He must have left the engine running to keep the heater warm. I checked through the windscreen as I approached and I saw that he was alone. Nervous anticipation and fear of the unknown washed over me, but I pushed it into the pit of my stomach and took a deep breath to calm myself down.

"Hi Becca. Get in," said Brian, as I opened the car door.

I slipped into the passenger's seat and closed the door behind me.

"Hi. How are you?" I asked.

"I'm great. It's the weekend and it's time for some fun," he laughed. "How are you?"

"I'm good... I think. I'm not sure if I've made the right decision," I replied, with a slight tremble to my voice.

The tremble wasn't put on, I really was feeling it. At least it would seem more natural that I was nervous and apprehensive.

"Of course you've made the right decision. You need the money and I need your help," he shrugged. "There's nothing to be nervous about."

"I know, it's just that I hardly know you and you haven't even told me what sort of work I'll be doing. You've been a bit vague about it all. I understand if it's illegal and I can assure you that I won't tell anyone about it, but what do you want me to do?"

"I do need you to keep quiet about tonight. I live a double life, Becca. Whatever happens tonight, stays between us. Do you understand?"

"Yes. I can keep a secret, don't worry about that," I laughed nervously. "Where are we going?"

"You'll see when we get there," he said, putting the car into gear and pulling off. "Just make sure you do exactly as I tell you."

"Of course."

We left the tower blocks behind us and headed onto the main road. There was a lot of traffic about, mainly taxis, taking people into town for a night out.

"I love what you've done with your hair by the way," Brian swooned. "You look like a warrior Princess or something."

"Thanks. I fancied a different look. I quite often change my hair at the weekend. Do you like my T-shirt too?" I opened my jacket and stuck my chest out so he could read the words written on the front.

"Crack Whore? That's very fitting. Does that mean you like drugs or are you referring to the crack between your legs?" he laughed.

I wasn't sure if this was a test, but I had to answer truthfully. I'd never taken drugs before and I didn't want to start now.

"I think you know the answer to that one," I giggled. "I love being a whore."

"You've certainly not disappointed so far, but tonight is a different story."

We seemed to be heading in the opposite direction to the Slaughtered Lamb pub so we obviously weren't going to The Lees stronghold. If anything, we were heading for the sleepy suburbs where Janice lived.

"How far is it?" I asked.

"Not much further now. We've got to do a house visit."

It was the first piece of information he'd given me all night. Why would we be doing a house visit in a nice neighbourhood? Maybe someone owed him money, or maybe he was picking up a stash to deliver to his dealers. Saturday night must be a busy night for his gang, with all the clubbers and party animals being out on the town. I figured that Brian was going to show me the ropes so he could use me as a drug mule or a courier. If he was taking business from The Mancs he would need to cover a wider area. He would need 'runners' or 'bagmen' to distribute the duffle bags that I'd seen on Wednesday night.