Becca Xxx - Spring Tide

Authors note: - This is a follow on to the previous episode of Becca XXX. Spring Tide. Please read it before reading this or you will not understand the plot or characters

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Becca XXX. Spring Tide. Ch 02.

Despite Lexa telling us to go to Penzance and track down Valentin, we had decided to take a different course of action. Walking into the local whore house and asking for a job didn't seem the right way to go. The owner's suspicions would have been raised immediately.

We needed to wait for more information and I had more faith in Arrow than I did in The Facility's team. I knew she'd come up with something. I'd seen her work first hand in Bronzefield and she knew her way around the dark web better than anyone. Maybe it was her autism or her inquisitive mind, but once she was set a task involving computers, she shone like the star she was.

After she was released from prison with Naomi, with a little help from my new friend Sullivan of the CIA, I had considered getting her a job at The Facility. In the end, I'd decided against it, mainly due to how vulnerable she seemed. It was better to keep her away from the realities of what we did and the bad people we had to deal with. Arrow definitely had other issues and she appeared to be disgusted by sex which made me wonder what had happened to her to make her that way.

Naomi didn't know either and neither of us liked to push her for answers. We thought it may be down to her autism, but it wasn't a regular symptom of that type of disorder. It was far more likely that something had happened to her when she was younger. Maybe someone had taken advantage of her vulnerable state and sexually abused her. That would have been enough to turn most people away from sex. It was definitely the right decision to keep her away from all that. On the plus side, it meant I had a completely impartial analyst to carry out the background work while I did the dirty, violent stuff.

As for me and Nat, the opposite was true. We'd been trained to endure the experience of rape and sexual abuse and make the most of it until such time that we could strike back. With what we'd been told about our potential adversaries so far, it was almost inevitable that we'd end up on the wrong end of a rapey fuck.

That was all part of the job for us and it was the biggest weapon in our arsenal. I hadn't met a criminal yet who wasn't distracted by a beautiful young girl who was willing to perform any filthy sex act they desired. The art of seduction came easily to us, but the difficulty with this mission was finding our marks in the first place so we could draw them in.

Until we had more credible intel, it wasn't worth blowing our cover early by going to Penzance. Instead, we'd decided to drive up to Bude and check out the alleged target - GCHQ. I still failed to find the connection with the initials Arran had found on the dark web - GH - and the target being GCHQ. Even the Russians knew that's what it was called. The only thing I could think of was that they cut it short to throw us off the scent or to make their communications easier.

The journey from Sennen Cove had taken just over two hours and it was nearly lunch time by the time we arrived. Natalie had driven with me riding shotgun - quite literally. Our Volkswagen transporter may have looked like a beaten-up old surf wagon, but it was a wolf in sheep's clothing.

The engine, suspension and brakes had all been upgraded. It drove and handled almost like a car, but the modifications didn't stop there. The two front doors were internally steel plated as were the backs of the seats. They would stop all but a heavy calibre bullet if the need arose.

Under the passenger side dashboard was a sawn-off shotgun clipped in place out of sight, but within easy reach. We both had a UCP pistol fixed under the seat by Velcro, along with an MP7 sub machine gun hidden in the roof lining of the living space. We even had a sniper rifle squirrelled away under the rear cargo floor.

We knew we were going up against trained Russian operatives and we weren't taking any chances. Although we were hunting them, it didn't mean that they didn't know about us. Spy craft was always a two-way street and Victor may well have had his people on the inside of MI5, Interpol or even The Facility. If they knew we were looking for them and what vehicle we were driving, we were as much a target to them as they were to us. For that reason, we remained vigilant, carrying out counter surveillance drills until we got to Bude.

"We'd better head for the beach and check out the surf first," said Natalie. "If anyone's following us, that's what they'd expect."

"Agreed," I nodded. "The forecast is much smaller for this afternoon. The swell peaked this morning, then there's a lull for maybe a week before the next swell arrives. We might get a session in later, on the incoming tide."

"Oh... I was actually thinking more about the work side of things," she tittered. "But, yeah, fuck it. I've not surfed here before."

"Crooklets is the main break in the town with Widemouth Bay to the south and Sandymouth Bay to the north," I explained. "We should be ok for a longboard session just before high tide at one of the beaches."

We both had two surfboards strapped to the roof of the van. Our shortboards were designed for bigger surf. They were faster and more manoeuvrable than a traditional long board, but required a steeper faced wave to keep them planing. Without forward momentum they would sink.

Longboards on the other hand were a lot more buoyant and would float whether they were moving or not. They were a mellow ride and although they could still be used in heavy surf, they performed better in smaller, fatter waves.

"There's a car park right on the beach at Crooklets," I pointed out. "Pull up and we'll see if we're being followed."

"I haven't seen any one suspicious, but ok."

We turned into the main car park and drove as close to the seafront as we could get. It was as quiet as Sennen Cove. The holiday season hadn't started yet, despite the glorious weather we were getting. Nat turned off the engine and we sat still for a moment watching the entrance to the car park for anything suspicious. We'd both made mental notes of any vehicles that had been behind us during the journey. Most had turned off, but not all.

That didn't mean that anyone following us was a Russian hit squad. Surfers often toured around Cornwall to get to the best breaks depending on the conditions and could easily have taken the same journey as us.

We waited for five minutes but saw nothing suspicious. We exited the van and walked across the sand dunes until we could see the surf conditions in the distance.

"Looks small, but the wind conditions are favourable," said Nat.

"Yeah, it's going to be blowing a light offshore breeze for the rest of the day," I replied. "This'll work once the tide pushes in. Let's go and check out the proposed target."

We got back in the van, but this time I got in the driver's seat. GCHQ was perched on a cliff top about five-miles away to the north.

"This is a wasted journey," said Nat, pulling out her iPad. "There's no way the Russians could attack this place. It's heavily protected for obvious reasons."

"Maybe they've seen a weakness they could exploit," I pointed out. "We need to look at it from their point of view."

"What do you mean?"

"If it was the other way around and we wanted to attack this place or shut it down, how would we do it?"

"We'd have to carry out reconnaissance first. We'd need a way in, plans of the compound, the number of security staff stationed there, CCTV camera positions etc. and that's just for starters."

"Ok, pull up Google satellite images and let's see what we're dealing with before we do a drive-by."

Nat started tapping and pinching the screen and soon found GCHQ, zooming in for a closer look.

"It's a huge complex," she said. "The main entrance is on the east side. It looks like it has a security gatehouse and there's a fence all the way around. There're buildings in the south area and then a number of radar domes and satellite dishes scattered across the rest of the compound."

She tilted the iPad so I could see the screen. If anyone was watching us, it would look like we were consulting the surf forecast. These days, half the population seemed to have their faces glued to a phone screen or tablet, so we certainly didn't look out of place. As I looked at the imagery, I could see the layout as she'd described it. Huge white radar domes were clearly visible and looked like giant golf balls sitting on the cliff. Bude was the main communications centre and eaves-dropping station for anything from organised crime to military operations.

Ethan and Lexa had mentioned that it could be targeted by Russia in order to give the Russians an advantage in the war with Ukraine. A lot of the orders and intel given to the Ukrainian troops came from GCHQ and crippling it could spell disaster for them and give Russia a foothold into Europe.

"The main entrance looks like a no-go," I said. "If it were me, I'd infiltrate through the fence on the western perimeter. It looks like there's a footpath that runs right past it," I pointed to a light brown trail that could be seen against the grassy cliff top.

"Agreed, but then what?" Nat shrugged. "We'd need to know where to go and what to attack. Plus, if I was a Russian operator, I'd want to make it look like an accident. They can't use explosives or it will give the game away."

"A freak gas explosion would be their best bet, but it would have to be huge to disable that place. Let's get ourselves up close and personal with it. It always looks different on the ground."

I started the engine and left the car park, heading north to the installation. We checked that we weren't being followed and fifteen minutes later we were there.

The place was very imposing and looked like something between a prison and a space centre. As we drove past, we saw a huge barbed-wire outer fence with a gap of about twenty metres to an inner fence.

"I'm betting that the gap between the fences is full of motion sensors and cameras," said Natalie. "No one's getting through there undetected."

"You're not kidding. Look at the security gates too," I replied, as we drove past the entrance, taking in the sheer size of the place. "They've got armed guards at the gatehouse and anti ram-raid bollards. It would be suicide to carry out a full-frontal attack."

"You're right. I still think Lexa has got this all wrong, but it does seem like the only target in the area. The initials GH almost fit, but attacking this place seems impossible."

We drove on a little further, glancing through the chain link fence at the rest of the facility.

"I bet even NASA would be jealous of those satellite dishes," laughed Nat. "They look like something from a sci-fi movie searching for extra-terrestrial lifeforms."

"Or a bunch of perverts trying to pickup the German porn channels," I giggled. "I bet they could pick up some freaky shit on those."

"You always have to lower the tone," sighed Natalie, playfully. "You're such a dirty bitch."

"You wouldn't want me any other way," I laughed.

I swung the van into a farmer's gateway to turn around. We had reached the end of the compound and there was nothing else beyond it. We just looked like a couple of dumb surf chicks who'd taken a wrong turn.

I drove back the way we'd come and took in more details as we approached from a different angle. We could see the numerous buildings from this direction, built on the south end of the installation. The mind boggled at what must be going on in there and the amount of top-secret information they housed. I could almost hear the hum of electricity in the air and the sound of information being transmitted and received through the giant satellite dishes. We made it past the entrance again and were eyed suspiciously by the armed guards. Maybe they were just bored and liked the look of two fit young girls driving past or maybe they were noting our registration number. I guessed it would be a little of both. It didn't matter anyway; we'd have been logged on the ANPR cameras outside the base.

There was a car park on the other side of the road as we drove away which was huge and packed with vehicles.

"This place must employ hundreds of people," said Natalie, noticing the same thing.

As she said that, something clicked in my mind.

"Maybe the Russians don't need to break into the place after all," I stated.

"What? You think they may have an inside man?" she stared at me for a second, thinking the same thing.

"It's a possibility. If they have someone on the inside, they could do the dirty work for them or even get them on site," I said, thinking out loud.

"That might work, but the vetting process for GCHQ is so stringent, surely they'd discover a Russian agent working there."

"They may have been there for years," I pointed out. "They could be a sleeper. Plus, anyone can be turned with the right persuasion. Money or blackmail can work wonders on people."

"They can, but even with an inside man, I still don't see this as a target. I think they've got it all wrong."

"Why are you so sure?"

"Because Hamilton didn't mention Bude - he said Sennen Cove. If he knew about this it would have been far easier for him to say 'Bude' instead of 'Sennen Cove' with his dying breath."

"You might be right," I replied. "He was fading fast so I guess Bude would have been easier to say."

"Perhaps we should let Lexa know our thoughts? She could get GCHQ to run new background checks on all the employees to see if any of them have links back to Russia."

"Not yet. I don't want her moaning that we've strayed off her mission plan. She's probably right about this being the target even though it seems implausible. We need to get our asses to Penzance and find Valentin to see where it leads like she suggested," I said.

"Agreed, but we need some food and the surf should be picking up soon. We may as well stay here for the rest of the day. If Lexa asks, we'll just say we were doing some recon on the area to see if it was being staked out by the Russians," Natalie laughed.

"Even the Russians wouldn't be stupid enough to sit around staring at the place all day long, but it works for me. Let's get some lunch."

****

It was three o'clock in the afternoon by the time the tide was far enough in to make Crooklets work. The swell was small, but it was better than nothing. The incoming tide had added an extra foot to the waves giving them a height of two to three feet.

"At least the paddle out will be easy," laughed Nat, as we pulled the boards off the roof of the van.

"It'll be nice and relaxed compared to this morning," I replied.

We were already suited up and ready for action when we saw four surf vans arrive into the car park. We recognised them immediately as the same ones we'd seen that morning in Sennen Cove.

"The voyeurs have arrived," I giggled. "Maybe they're following us."

"It might look that way, but I doubt they're Russian agents," said Nat. "They're just here for the surf like us. It's the only beach that will be working in these conditions and this state of tide."

The vans parked on the opposite side of the car park and the eight guys piled out. They had an excitement about them as they looked out across the dunes to assess the surf. They seemed satisfied that it looked rideable without the need to get closer, so they began to take off their hoodies.

"Should we return the favour and stand here staring at them while they undress?" I laughed.

"I don't see why not," Natalie replied, leaning against the back of the van and making it obvious she was looking at them.

I joined her and began to take in the details of their vehicles. All four vans were Volkswagen Transporters varying in age. There were two white ones, a blue one and a red one. The owners had opted for different decals and wheels or coloured trim, but they all had one thing in common. The rear tailgates each had a sticker on the back in black and the words: "The Surfiety" emblazoned across them. It was in fancy writing and had a wave logo at the beginning. It was a clever play on words mixing the word surfing with the word society.

"It looks like they're all part of the same club," I pointed out.

"Yeah, the voyeurs club. I bet they just like hanging around in car parks watching girls getting changed," she sniggered.

There were two guys in each van and they seemed like a close-knit group. They worked together to get the longboards off the roof, taking them out of their bags and laying them gently on the floor. They then opened the rear doors of the vans to retrieve their wetsuits. They were laughing and joking and started to undress when one of them noticed us staring.

He nudged his friend and nodded in our direction. There was a brief exchange of words and laughter and then they just shrugged and carried on undressing.

"It looks like we're about to get to the good stuff," said Nat. "I wonder who's got the biggest cock."

"I doubt we'll see much. They look well practiced at getting changed without revealing too much."

They took their T shirts off first, almost synchronised with one another. Toned abs came into view first, followed by well defined pecs and then rippling shoulders. They weren't big muscle men; their bodies had been earned from hard work paddling through heavy surf. They were lean, but strong where they needed to be. Surfing builds core strength and upper body power in the shoulders and lats, but also requires good flexibility that a hulk wouldn't have.

"Mmmmm, they've got good bodies on them," Natalie cooed. "Even the older guys look in decent shape."

"There's many a good tune played on an old fiddle, Nat," I laughed.

The men varied in age from late-twenties to mid-forties. They didn't have the usual scruffy surfer's look about them which is portrayed in the movies. The long blonde-haired, beach-bum type who says "dude" all the time was rarely sighted at real surf breaks. Maybe it was a common sight in California, but in England they were few and far between. These men all had cropped hair, which looked well kept. They were clean shaven which didn't just mean their faces. Their chests looked smooth as though they had been waxed or shaved possibly to make drying themselves easier or maybe they just preferred it that way. Body hair on men these days was classed as unsightly as a hairy pussy.

We carried on staring as they turned away and pulled their shorts down. We got a nice view of their pert white buttocks, but their genitals were obscured.

"Nice asses," I swooned. "It's a shame they're shy."

It surprised me that these guys weren't more flirtatious with us. I was expecting them to be flashing their cocks in our direction or even doing that side-to-side wobble with their swinging dicks that men do to show off. They seemed reserved, almost polite and definitely more interested in getting in the sea to catch some waves. Other than a glimpse of a flaccid shaft or a shaved ball sack dangling between their legs from behind, we saw very little.

"Well, that's a fucking disappointment," sighed Natalie as the guys pulled up their wetsuits. "It's ok for them to stare at us naked, but when it's the other way around they turn their backs on us."

"To be fair, they weren't being as obvious about staring at us as we are at them. Fuck it, lets go and catch some waves. You'll have to make do with my pussy instead."

"Eewwww not again," she made a disgusted face and then turned it into a smile and a wink. "I suppose I'll have to if that's all that's on offer."

We picked up our boards and left the boys to it. Maybe they were new age men who didn't hit on girls in public car parks. With so many so-called "modern-women" rejecting male attention and crying rape at the first opportunity, who could blame them for being cautious.