#Job agency for truck drivers

[trailerdriver]

Trailer Driver jobs in Lithuania | AnywhereJobs

Are you looking for exciting opportunities as a trailer driver in Lithuania? Look no further than AnywhereJobs! With our wide range of job listings and easy application process, finding the perfect trailer driver job has never been easier. Let's dive into what makes trailer driver jobs in Lithuania so enticing and how AnywhereJobs can help you kickstart your career in this field.

Why choose Lithuania for trailer driver jobs?

Lithuania is known for its picturesque landscapes, charming towns, and bustling cities. As a trailer driver, you'll have the opportunity to explore every corner of this beautiful country while enjoying a stable and rewarding career. Whether you prefer short hauls within the city or long-haul trips across borders, Lithuania offers a diverse range of driving opportunities for trailer drivers.

What qualities do employers look for in trailer drivers?

Employers in Lithuania seek trailer drivers who are reliable, responsible, and skilled behind the wheel. Excellent driving skills, a strong work ethic, and the ability to work independently are key traits that employers value. Additionally, having a valid driver's license, clean driving record, and knowledge of road safety regulations are essential requirements for trailer driver jobs.

How can AnywhereJobs help you find the perfect trailer driver job?

AnywhereJobs is a leading online job portal that connects job seekers with top employers in Lithuania and beyond. Our user-friendly platform allows you to browse through a wide range of trailer driver job listings, apply with just a few clicks, and track your applications with ease. With AnywhereJobs, you can access the latest job opportunities, receive personalized job alerts, and connect with employers looking for talented trailer drivers like you.

Tips for landing your dream trailer driver job

Update your resume to highlight your relevant driving experience and qualifications.

Research potential employers and tailor your applications to each company's specific requirements.

Practice safe driving habits and stay up-to-date on road regulations to impress employers during interviews.

Network with other trailer drivers and industry professionals to learn about new job openings and opportunities.

Start your journey as a trailer driver with AnywhereJobs

Don't wait any longer to jumpstart your career as a trailer driver in Lithuania. Explore exciting job opportunities on AnywhereJobs today and take the first step towards a fulfilling and rewarding career on the road. Join our platform, connect with top employers, and land your dream job as a trailer driver in Lithuania. Happy driving!

[rigonwheels]

The landscape of the trucking industry is changing as we enter 2024; technology, regulations and public demand are determining the way forward. Rig on Wheels is an Truck Driver Recruitment Agency which deals with many issues and follow the trends; For more contact us.

[cdldriverrecruiter]

CDL TRUCK DRIVER RECRUITING USING CLASSATRANSPORT.COM

The Ultimate Hiring Recruiting Solutions Platform for CDL Drivers and Logistics Personnel only at ClassATransport.com - Class A Transport - A Full Service CDL Truck Driver Recruitment Agency

ClassATransport.com 25350 Magic Mountain Parkway Suite #300 Valencia, CA 91355

Local Phone number  

1-800-940-6353

 info@classatransport.com

325,000+ Applications & Resumes Delivered To Transportation Companies NationWide!  We have the audience to help you find Class A and Class B CDL Truck Drivers and Hire ASAP! -

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CDL Truck Driver Recruiting Experts with 19 Years of Experience and over 325,000+ Applications Sent to Logistics & Warehouse Transportation Companies

Title: Efficient CDL Truck Driver Recruitment Strategies Using ClassATransport.com

Abstract: In today's competitive transportation industry, hiring competent and reliable truck drivers is crucial for the success of any logistics company. ClassATransport.com is a leading online platform that offers specialized tools and resources for CDL truck driver recruitment. This post aims to explore the process of hiring truck drivers through ClassATransport.com while providing insights into effective recruitment strategies. It will cover the platform's features, the importance of a well-structured recruitment process, and tips for attracting and retaining top-quality CDL truck drivers when and where you need them. By implementing these strategies, transportation and logistic companies can streamline their hiring process, improve CDL truck driver retention, and ensure a robust fleet for enhanced business growth.  

ABOUT US ClassATransport.com is a 19 year old staffing recruitment solutions agency that specializes in sourcing Truck Drivers & Logistics personnel. We have developed a marketing platform that allows us to find and source applicants anywhere in the continental United States, even in the toughest markets! We target applicants based on position type, requirements and the locations our employers are looking to hire out of.

WHAT WE DO We create digital marketing campaigns for our employers using a unique content delivery system. Our campaigns pinpoint applicants exactly where our employers need them, with the specified requirements. Once we identify the candidate pool, we collect a short-form application from the applicant, which undergoes an automated filtering process and is delivered directly to our employer's email.

HOW WE DO IT We create proactive (go out and get) and reactive (get them to come to us) marketing campaigns for our employers. Our technology targets various sources online and offline to find applicants in the geographic locations where our employers are hiring. Our technology also leverages an "Intelligent Match" system that identifies applicants from our growing base of over 250,000 and invites them to apply.

STATISTICS some impressive numbers * 19 years in the trade gives us stats like below: * 325,000 + Applications Delivered! * 2500 + Clients! * 19 + Years in the trade! * 30,000 + Campaigns completed! * 2000000 + Job Alerts sent monthly!

ClassATransport.com - A Full Service CDL Truck Driver Recruitment Agency

ClassATransport.com 25350 Magic Mountain Parkway Suite #300 Valencia, CA 91355 Local Phone number 1-800-940-6353

info@classatransport.com

325,000+ Applications & Resumes Delivered To Transportation Companies NationWide!

We have the audience to help you find Class A and Class B CDL Truck Drivers and Hire ASAP!

CDL Truck Driver Recruiting Experts with 19 Years of Experience and over 325,000+ Applications Sent to Logistics & Warehouse Transportation Companies

LEARN MORE ABOUT THE ULTIMATE SOURCING SYSTEM FOR TRUCK DRIVERS & LOGISTICS PERSONNEL! * Transportation & Logistics is our specialty! * 1000's of clients and successful campaigns. * Over 325,000 Applications delivered. * Applications & resumes are targeted to you. * Dashboard and mass email access. * Database access to over 200,000 Applicants. * Database access to 400,000 + Owner Operators. * Applicants targeted to you in your desired areas. * We guarantee to deliver applicants! * Nothing exists more effective!

Introduction The trucking industry serves as the backbone of global commerce, transporting goods efficiently across vast distances. To maintain a successful trucking operation, companies must focus on hiring skilled truck drivers through reliable platforms like ClassATransport.com. This essay examines the critical role of ClassATransport.com in hiring truck drivers and offers valuable insights into the recruitment process.

Understanding ClassATransport.com ClassATransport.com is a leading online platform dedicated to facilitating the recruitment of professional truck drivers. With a user-friendly interface and comprehensive features, the platform connects employers with qualified drivers seeking job opportunities. Employers can access a vast database of potential candidates, conduct driver assessments, and streamline the recruitment process.

The Significance of an Effective Recruitment Process 3.1. Defining Job Requirements Before posting job listings on ClassATransport.com, it is vital for employers to clearly outline their job requirements. This includes detailing the type of truck drivers needed, necessary certifications, experience level, and geographic location.

3.2. Crafting Compelling Job Descriptions To attract the right candidates, employers should create compelling and accurate job descriptions. Highlighting competitive salaries, benefits, and career growth opportunities can make job postings more appealing to potential applicants.

3.3. Leveraging Technology for Screening ClassATransport.com offers a range of screening tools to assess candidates' qualifications. Employers can use these resources to gauge driver skills, experience, and safety records, narrowing down the applicant pool efficiently.

Attracting Top-Quality Truck Drivers 4.1. Establishing a Positive Employer Brand A strong employer brand is crucial in attracting top talent. Companies can showcase their commitment to drivers' well-being, work-life balance, and career development to make themselves more appealing to potential applicants. 4.2. Incentive Programs Employers can offer attractive incentives such as signing bonuses, safety bonuses, and performance-based rewards to entice experienced truck drivers to join their team.

4.3. Engaging in Effective Marketing To attract a broader pool of candidates, companies should implement targeted marketing campaigns on ClassATransport.com and other relevant platforms, emphasizing their unique selling points as an employer.

Retaining Truck Drivers for the Long Term 5.1. Competitive Compensation A key factor in driver retention is offering competitive pay and benefits packages. Ensuring drivers are fairly compensated for their work can lead to higher job satisfaction and decreased turnover rates. 5.2. Professional Development and Training Providing ongoing training and development opportunities to drivers can foster a sense of career growth and job security, which encourages long-term commitment to the company.

5.3. Open Communication Channels Establishing open communication channels between management and drivers can help address concerns and resolve issues promptly, leading to a more positive work environment.

Conclusion Efficiently hiring and retaining truck drivers is essential for the success of any transportation company. By utilizing the tools and resources provided by ClassATransport.com and implementing effective recruitment strategies, businesses can secure a competent and reliable driver workforce. Offering competitive compensation, emphasizing a positive employer brand, and focusing on driver retention will lead to improved operational efficiency and business growth in the competitive trucking industry.

CDL Truck Driver Recruiting Experts with 19 Years of Experience and over 325,000+ Applications Sent to Logistics & Warehouse Transportation Companies

[crazycurly-77]

The bet - Chapter 2

After this brief interlude you joined Abby in searching the databases again and tried further to calm yourself down. 

It was not unusual that your boss was standing close to you, but with the bet from Abby in the back of your mind, you were still trembling all over your body. 

This would be a really hard task, but you had to do one out of the two options. And one thing was as sure as hell, no matter which you choose, there will be consequences, whatever form they take.

So you had to ponder this matter really well and decide which consequences are easier to bear. But since Abby presented you this bet you were constantly on edge - especially near Tony and Gibbs, but for whole different reasons. 

Yes, Tony would drive you insane, but Gibbs….??? He had his rule 12 in place and expected his team to follow his rules no matter what happened. 

Sooo….what could he do? Definitely not shooting you, but firing you. 

So it's insanity or losing your job, really a hard decision. 

In the afternoon you found the searched fingerprints in the database of the agency. The person who you are searching for was a civilist and he was located in the next city. 

Abby immediately called Gibbs to tell him the news. 

“Good job, Abs. Y/N come up, you're coming with us." Then he hung up. 

Abby smirked at you “bye! And don't forget the bet!” she said and winked. 

But you only rolled your eyes and waved her goodbye. 

A few minutes later you walked into the bullpen and immediately were ordered to go to the car park. 

Since there was no car available, you took the truck. So far, so good. Tim was in the back, Gibbs took the driver's seat and Tony and you had to sit beside him. 

You tried to get into the truck after Tony, but he insisted that you got in first. So you had to sit squeezed between Gibbs and DiNozzo. Just great. Since there wasn't much space, the legs of the two men and yours inevitably touched each other.

You felt like you were in the hot seat and were grilled.

As always, you were all silent during the drive, probably because Gibbs was driving like a sore thumb again. 

Arriving at your destination Tony got out of the truck first. And just as you unbuckled yourself Gibbs was leaning over you to search something in the glove compartment. 

Your faces were very close to each other.

This was THE opportunity to kiss him without anyone knowing about it.

You froze, but your heart and your mind were racing: 

“Okay, it's now or never and he's only a few inches away.”

You tried to gather all your courage to kiss him. But boy, you were really nervous and more than that and you were totally on edge. You were going to kiss your boss, after all!! 

“Oh my gosh, how embarrassing!” you thought, slowly beginning to wring your hands because of nervousness. 

“Maybe I just…but no, I have to do it.”

There was no way out of this, because then you had to watch movies with Tony which was not really good, too. 

So you had to go through this and afterwards hope that he would forget that this happened and not fire you as you would try to forget it, too. And you would bury your crush on him deep down inside of you like you had done the last months, too. Because of rule 12, you know. 

He was still right in front of you and smelled wonderful like sawdust and was so kissable. 

But then you thought suddenly horrified

“How will he react? Will he reprimand me? I can give him only a little peck, maybe that would be okay for him.”

He was sighing because he was still searching and he was so near to you. 

“Yes, I will do it.” 

Nothing will come out of it. There will never be anything between you two. This will be a once in a lifetime moment, but you will remember it forever. 

Shortly you closed your eyes and dreamed. Once you will feel his lips on yours, if only for a short time and consequences be damned. 

You inwardly tried to gather all you had

“Yeah, just do it girl. He's right here in front of you only a few inches away!!!” 

Meanwhile he still rummaged, but didn't find what he was looking for.

Your pulse raced as was your mind, but you were absolutely frozen.

Then you decided “Okay, I will do it.”

Right at this moment he gave up his search and got out of the truck.

The opportunity was over and you had to summon yourself and follow your colleagues.

(To be continued...)

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Here you will find the other chapters of this story and the other stories I've written to date.

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Tags: @ilovemark1951, @hobby27, @ladyzombiielove

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[ohforficsake]

The Margay: Chapter 8

Benadryl

prev / series masterlist / main masterlist

Summary: Santiago recruits Frankie to contract for a covert agency that pairs them with danger in more ways than one. A series of one-shot snippets taking place during and around missions.

Pairing: Frankie Morales x Sniper!OFC

Word Count: ~ 13.2K words (I made y'all wait, but you get all of this and two spicy scenes)

Rating: Explicit 18+ / fingering, car sex, dirty talk, unprotected piv, creampie, oral (f receiving), comeshot, come eating / language / mentions of past drug use / hostage extraction / canon-consistent violence / Minors DNI

A/N: I know nothing about fixing cars. I know nothing about helicopters. I know that these two love each other. Special guest appearance this chapter by Ben Miller. Benny fans, your boy is a menace and he's wonderful.

Thank you, thank you, thank you all for your lovely comments, for recommending this story, and for screaming with me about these two.

chapter moodboard if you're interested

Divider by @cafekitsune!

MONDAY

AN UNDISCLOSED LOCATION IN HONDURAS.

“MOOSE,” Santiago barks at where Audrey’s bent double over the hood of a Land Rover as he slams their truck door. 

She doesn’t bother to drop what she’s doing, perimeter alarms two miles down the hill had already alerted her to their arrival.

One of them thwaks her on the ass and she knows it's Santi.

Frankie doesn’t do it like that.

“Whatcha got, what’s going on here?” He peers down at wires and tubes. 

“Auxiliary belt’s fucked, where’s my…”

“Catfish get over here, she’s talkin’ your shit, I’ve got no idea.” Pope calls over his shoulder, not realizing that “Frankie” and not the name of some obscure tool is actually the intended end of her sentence. “This thing armored?” He kicks a tire.

“Yep.”

A massive palm spreads over her back, the shadow of his body a cooling balm.

She looks up now.

“Hi,” Frankie smiles.

“Hi,” she grins over her shoulder, craning her neck back for a kiss, and Frankie briefly slips her his tongue because he’s never been able to resist a girl who’s good with her hands. 

“Serpentine belt?” He asks when she breaks away.

‘Yeah, it’s cracked to shit. Gonna swap the tensioner too. Let me get the breaker bar?”

“Like a different fucking language,” Pope quips as he opens the driver’s side door and slips inside.

And Frankie’s torn between letting her continue and wanting desperately to take over the job, lest a speck of grease mar her lovely skin. She’s clearly capable of doing this herself, but chivalry wins out and he grabs the long metal rod from the toolbox on the ground.

“Top or bottom?” Meaning which tensioner.

“Bottom, it’s got too much play in it,” she answers, pressing on the bearing to show him.

“Oh shit yeah, that’s loose.”

“God, get a room,” Santi quips from where he’s reclining in the driver’s seat, brim of his cap pulled low over his eyes against the sun.

“Why don’t you do something useful like unload the truck?” Frankie calls as he slots the breaker bar into place. “Hold on let me get a picture of how it’s sitting,” and he reaches in his back pocket as she slides her left arm in front of his face. She’s drawn the belt’s path on the inside of her forearm in pen to help with re-threading the new strip of rubber.

Frankie’s cock twitches.

She knows what she’s doing. 

She always does.

She would have done this without him.

And she lets him in anyway.

He applies pressure to the bar, forcing the tensioner away from the belt and Audrey reaches over him to slip the old rubber strap from the pulleys, her chest grazing his arm as she does.

God if Santiago wasn’t fucking here right now flits across his mind. 

If this isn’t all of his teenage fantasies come to life…

She has the belt off in seconds and disappears as he hits the inside of the breaker bar with his palm to unlatch it. Audrey returns with a wrench, new belt slung diagonally across her torso.

“Crack that nut off for me, baby?” She doesn’t need to tell him, but she enjoys needling Pope, who scoffs from his leather cradle.

Fish’s broad shoulders briefly strain under the cotton of his t-shirt as he gets it loose, winding it off the bolt with deft fingers. He slots the nut into his back pocket out of habit and the mechanism comes away in his hands. 

“Don’t need that, it came with one,” and Audrey dives in with the new tensioner, lining the lugs of the new part up before screwing the new nut part-way on. She slips the new belt off of where she’s wearing it and Frankie helps her line it up, pausing occasionally to check her arm for the positioning, landing a kiss on her shoulder here, dragging his nose up her tricep there. 

Once they have the belt back in place, Frankie tightens the nut on the new tensioner and they both step back.

“Oi,” Frankie pounds on the headlight to get Santiago’s attention. 

“Start her up?” Audrey rests one hand on her hip and shields her eyes with the other.

Santi gropes around for the keys before starting the truck and Audrey and Frankie let it run for a second before stepping forward to inspect their work. 

“Yeah, looks good.” 

“Sounds better than it did,” Audrey adds. 

Fish raises his voice to be heard over the engine, “shut her off, Pope.”

Frankie fiddles around, checking the tightness on all of the bolts within his reach before they work together to replace the fanbelt shroud and reconnect the air filter pipes.

“Where in the hell did you learn to do that?” Fish rubs the heels of his palms together when it’s through, squinting against the sun.

Audrey slams the hood closed. “Friend with a Messerschmitt has a thing for old cars too.” 

Frankie’s gotta meet this guy.

But right now he has a more–pressing–problem and he excuses himself with a “gotta hit the head.” He figures cool water on the back of his neck will unwind him enough that he can face them again.

_____

Hours later the three of them are hunched over the dining table, staring daggers at a site plan that’s dotted with an array of plastic army figurines.

There’s a poker chip in the center. A four-year-old hostage that needs extracting. The daughter of a diplomat being held for political leverage.

None of them are happy about it.

But they’re also among the handful of people in the world who can get her out alive. 

Each of them feels that obligation acutely.

“We need another man,” Audrey crosses her arms over her chest.

“The compound is just too big. Too many fucking people,” Santi scratches at his beard. “If we need Fish in the bird ready to run, that’s already too sparse. And if we need you up here,” he points to tight concentric circles on the plan that signify high ground, “keeping the path to the bird clear, I can get in quietly, no problem, but I can’t get out with a hostage in tow.”

“What if I go with you?” Frankie pipes up, “it takes less than 90 seconds to get this in the air,” he points at a toy helicopter with an index finger.

“90 seconds could be too long. And god forbid something happens to you in there and you can’t fly that bird,” she taps inside the building. “Then we have two sets of dead weight and a hornet’s nest on high alert. I wouldn’t be able to get there in time to fly everyone  out.”

Pope twirls a pen between his fingers and Frankie places and replaces the helicopter at different points around the map before returning it to its original position at the private airstrip.

“That’s the only spot that works. Anywhere else draws attention and/or goes against the intel on their route,” he concludes, rubbing at his eyes with his thumb and middle fingers. 

“How do we know that’s not drawing attention anyway?” Santi bites the inside of his cheek as he gestures at the helicopter.

“There’s been a nature documentary crew in and out of that airstrip for weeks. The bird Davis’ guys lined up is  the same make and model with all the same markings,” Frankie answers. “It’s just bulletproof.”

Santi turns to Audrey, “can he get someone else out here?” Meaning their boss.

“Getting someone out here isn’t the problem, getting someone out here that I trust is. Everyone I knew in there is long gone.”

“You still got any friends?” Santi’s brow knits.

“Not ones who do this kind of shit anymore.”

“Pope,” Frankie pipes up after a beat. “Ben?”

“Yeah,” Santiago lights up, “yeah, you think he’d be up for it?”

Frankie shrugs, “worth a shot. Benny’s down for anything.”

“Ben is…Miller?” Her brain reaches back and spits out what she can remember of the Lorea briefing and bits of the stories they’ve told about a “Benny.”

“Yeah.” They both look at her expectantly. 

They need the final party’s buy-in.

“Tell me more.”

“He’s solid. Ready to do whatever it takes to get a job done,” Santi starts.

“A bit brash at times, maybe,” Frankie tempers Pope’s enthusiasm. “A little wild when he drinks, a little hot under the collar,” he scratches at this beard. “But not in the way that disobeys orders.”

“He runs clean during a mission, Aud. Doesn’t like an operation that doesn’t go to plan. Doesn’t leave messes. Puts his own life on the line when it matters.” Santi says firmly. “Might be a bit of an adjustment period though.” 

“Might be.” Francisco apparently agrees.

“In what way.” She stares them both down.

“He, uh…might have a little bit of a hard time taking your orders at first.” Santi runs a hand through his hair.

“He’ll push you a bit,” Frankie again scratches at his chin. “Not because he wants to run it.”

“Just because he doesn’t know you,” Santi finishes, arms crossed, hip resting against the edge of the table. “But he’ll fall in line.”

“Anything else I should know?”

“He uh,” Santi takes his eyes over her form, “might come on a bit strong,” Santi says.

“He’s gonna want to fuck you, Aud.” Frankie translates.

“That I can handle. All of this I can handle. Do you trust him?” Her green gaze slides between the two men.

“I do.” Pope answers with conviction. 

Frankie responds, “with my life.”

She stares hard at Frankie before drumming her fingers on the table. “Okay. I’d like not to lose time and waste the intel on this. Davis can have a screen run on him tonight if he’s game. Can he get on a plane tomorrow?”

“I’ll ask,” Frankie sits up and reaches for his phone. 

It dings in response thirty seconds later. 

“He’s in.”

And she immediately slips her cell phone out of her back pocket, stepping into the other room to make arrangements with Davis. 

_____

“Nothing more to do tonight. We’re gonna take this thing out on a test run,” Frankie tips the brim of his cap up far enough to swipe curls off of his forehead as he makes his way through the kitchen.

“It’s 9pm, it’s dark,” and no sooner is it out of Santiago’s mouth than he catches Frankie’s drift.

“Mind your business, Pope.”

“Roger,” Santi turns back to his beer and the baseball game he’s watching on his phone. “If you aren’t back by midnight I’m calling in a BOLO for two idiots fucking in the back seat of a Land Rover.”

“I was actually in the mood to do it on the hood,” Audrey quips as she appears at the foot of the stairs.

“Fine, just don’t leave come stains that I have to look at when I’m driving it tomorrow.”

“No promises,” Audrey winks and Pope scoffs.

Frankie slaps him on the shoulder on his way out the door.

“Lucky fuckin’ bastard,” Pope murmurs under his breath and takes a swig of beer.

_____

Half an hour later, Frankie has her naked in the sea, legs wrapped around his waist, lips at her throat before the brim of his cap knocks her in the chin.

“Francisco, what is the deal with this thing, you shower with it on?” She reaches to spin it around backwards.

“Just my favorite hat,” he returns to sucking on her collarbone, tongue accepting the bitter burn of salt water so long as it’s laced with the taste of her skin.

“What is Standard Heating Oil?”

“No clue. Found it in the dollar bin at Goodwill one day.”

“Fascinating.” He has no tie to this hat save for the fact that it’s his and it goes everywhere with him.

“Used to get made fun of as a kid. For having curly hair,” he tucks his chin into the juncture of her shoulder.

The brush of his beard tickles her skin as he continues.

“Just always preferred to cover it up, I guess.”

Audrey takes the hat off and slips it backwards onto her own head. 

Her fingers wind in his curls.

And she holds him without prying.

“Used to get made fun of a lot as a kid. My hair. My nose. Wasn’t really into sports either.”

“You’ve just named some of the things I like most about you,” Audrey kisses at his jaw. “What were you into, Frankie?” She whispers.

“Liked to read, I suppose,” he muses.

And she hums, nuzzling her face into Frankie’s shoulder. “I like that about you too.”

He’s warm and open like this as they listen to the soft lap of waves against the shore. She holds him as if it could seep into her bones.

After a moment Frankie whispers, “I, um. I used to—not—be good at handling all of this. My past and my present.”

And she pulls back a fraction to gaze softly into dark eyes.

“I used to use.”

And her hand in his hair strokes gently over the nape of his neck as un-shed tears set brown eyes swimming.

“Coke. I just kind of fell off the wagon,” he nods like he needs her to agree that this doesn’t change him. 

Audrey holds his face in her palms, thumbs gently skimming over the apples of his cheeks.

“Got hit with a license suspension a few years ago. Then Pope came through with the Lorea job and that—that didn’t—” he trails off.

“Ended up getting the license back but—”

Frankie stares over her right shoulder out into the horizon.

“Everything else fell ap—”

And Audrey presses her lips to his because she doesn’t know what more to do than allow her body to speak where the prospect of words seems trite in comparison. She presses her lips to his cheek and wraps her arms tight to his neck until he returns her hold, tighter than before.

“I haven’t, though,” he murmurs against her skin, nodding his head again.

“In two years. I haven’t used.”

And she knows what lives in the spaces between those words.

I haven’t used since you.

And it terrifies her.

I can’t save you.

I can’t fix you.

I can’t be that for you, Frankie.

And yet.

She is. 

He’s quiet for a long while in her arms. Body slowly giving up its tension to the water before he murmurs, “you float, baby.”

And her brow furrows in the moonlight.

“I sink. In the ocean,” he muses as he pulls back to look at her. “You’re like a life vest.”

And Audrey chances a joke, looking down at her full chest and muttering, “well…”

Frankie’s tongue darts out to lick at his bottom lip. “Nuh uh this too,” his hands slip down to grip hard at her ass.

And whatever that was before has passed.

Audrey welcomes it with a laugh and a kiss at his jaw. 

“I missed you,” he whispers and again fits his chin into the curve of her shoulder.

“Oh, Francisco,” she sighs and presses her nose to his wet hair, inhaling the salted smell of him.

“I know it’s only been three weeks,” he starts to apologize. 

For his attachment.

“I missed you too,” she preempts and arches into him, gripping his neck tighter.

“Can I tell you something?” Frankie pulls back, whispering against her chin.

“Of course,” is her answer, but she stiffens ever so slightly.

Because he’s said it far too intimately.

And mercifully more than three words tumble out of his mouth.

“I saw you fixing that truck today,” he noses at her jaw to whisper against her lips. “I could have fucked you right there on the hood.”

“Oh yeah?” Audrey whispers with the beginnings of a smirk playing on her lips.

“I was so fucking hard.” 

“Is that why you ran away?” She laughs. “You know Pope was half asleep.”

“Yeah, but you’re loud, baby,” he lets out a sly murmur. “Would have been a hell of a wakeup call.”

“Ah, and you’re quiet as a church mouse.”

Frankiee grins with guilty teeth in his bottom lip. 

“Could have taken me with you,” she presses her lips to his, opening just a fraction to allow his tongue into her mouth, “to wherever you absconded to.”

“The lady deserves better.”

“Mm, like the hood of a car?”

“Done.”

She lets him go and starts racing towards the shore.

Frankie follows after her, catching her around the waist and hoisting her onto the hood of the Rover, massive hand hooked around the nape of her neck with a grin splitting his face.

Audrey reaches for him, hand wrapping around the girth of his half-hard cock, working him as his forehead briefly thumps against hers. 

“Oh, fuckk—,” Frankie hisses. “Baby. Baby, baby, baby—” he rumbles through the lowest registers of his voice as the fingers of one hand trail up the back of her calf. Frankie’s palm settles on one knee before he roughly pushes her thighs open wider. 

“Look at me,” he whispers.

Audrey slants her gaze down at him as he stares back from under hazy half-closed lids.

Frankie slips his middle and ring fingers into his mouth, sucking the salt from them as her jaw drops open, brows knitted with want. His fingers slip between her folds in time with his tongue between her teeth to deliver the taste of salt to her the moment his fingers slip inside.

“Wet already? Ohh baby,” Frankie purrs into her mouth. “My pretty, dirty baby,” he pants, hips thrusting his cock into her fist now.

She moans into his mouth and arches, pressing her breasts against his chest before she freezes.

“Frankie, get in the car.”

“I want you right here,” he skates his nose up her neck.

“Frankie, there’s a truck coming, get the fuck inside.”

And no sooner does she say it than his ears catch the distant whine of a diesel engine winding up the coastal highway.

“Oh, fuck,” he chuckles, corseting her waist in his generous hands and picking her up off the hood, making sure she has her feet before grabbing the pile of their clothes from off the hood. 

They dive into the backseat of the truck, Audrey first and Frankie close behind such that they end up a tangle of limbs, leather squeaking under wet skin. 

Frankie drapes himself over her, a wet curl falling into his eyes as he peeks up out of the window, tracking the truck’s path.

“Fifty meters,” he reports before mumbling “fuck, I’m sorry baby,” as Audrey shifts under him where knees and elbows fell at painful angles.

“‘S okay, how are we doing?” She glances up at the thick column of his neck above her.

“Ten meters,” Frankie counts it down, “five,” he ducks down out of view momentarily before tracking the truck the other way. 

“I think we’re clear, baby.” 

And the moonlight streaming through the sunroof catches in her eyes, turning them a shade of seafoam. 

Illuminating something that he can’t quite unpack right now through the haze of lust.

Frankie fits his mouth to hers again, suddenly possessed with the need to feel. His palm slides down to cup one breast, pinching her nipple before spreading wide over her ribcage. 

He runs greedy fingertips over her skin as he moves, kissing at her stomach and biting at her inner thigh.

She props herself up on her elbows and takes his cap from her head, tossing it onto the driver’s seat before raking a hand through her curls and reaching for his cheek.

He turns his face to kiss her palm.

And Frankie almost lets something slip on a sigh.

“I—”

“Need you,” he swallows hard. “I need you, Aud,” Frankie’s voice is a cracked whisper when he pauses to look up at her. 

“Have me, Frankie.”

And he again kisses her palm before sucking her thumb into his mouth, crawling back up her body. His right hand snakes down to pump his cock, the other fitting into the crease of her thigh. 

“Are you—?” He murmurs against her lips.

“Frankie—” she chokes on a desperate breath and he thrusts inside of her such that they both cry out, Audrey’s nails sinking into his tricep, Frankie’s mouth open, teeth catching at her jawline. 

“Oh God,” he rests his forehead against hers as she tangles her fingers in his wet curls, tipping her face to suck on his bottom lip.

“Frankie, move,” she urges and he does, slowly at first. Long, deep strokes before he sits up, hands settling on her hips as his speed builds. 

He’s not slow about chasing his own release. 

One knee on the floorboards, the other foot hiked up on the seat with her leg over his hip, fingers digging into the curve of her waist, yanking her against him to meet his every thrust. Audrey braces one hand against the door, and the other on the back of the seat.

Frankie’s a man in a trance. 

Breath hissing through clenched teeth, gaze fixed on where he sinks inside of her. A curl falls loose across a forehead growing damp with sweat. 

Audrey arches in his hold, “you feel so good Frankie.”

“You’re so tight, baby.” 

When he reaches up to grip one shoulder he pulls her ass clear off the seat.

But even in this one-track haze Frankie is quick to protect her, arm looping around the small of her back, and the other coming to the crown of her head, guarding it against the roof as he twists to sit on the seat with her on top of him. 

He pauses a moment with wide, panicked eyes, as though he’s surprised even himself. 

“Smooth, Morales,” she grabs his face between her hands and slips her tongue into his mouth. “Very. Fucking. Smooth.”

And she’s in control now. 

Audrey leans back to brace her hands on his thighs, rolling her hips, allowing them both to feel every inch of each other. Frankie’s head falls back into the space between the headrests, hands roaming her skin, squeezing at her breasts, fingers fitting into the spaces between her ribs, thumbs running down over her abs before settling below her navel, feeling how his cock fills her from the outside. 

“Oh shit,” Frankie’s head snaps back, lip curled as he watches in lurid fascination. Audrey indulges him for a moment before she shifts forward, one hand on the seat, the other on his chin. 

“Look at me.”

And he angles big brown eyes up at her before she kisses him with an open mouth. 

Frankie licks warm and wet down her neck, sucking at the salt of her skin mixed with seawater. He buries his nose between her breasts as he meets her hips halfway, palms skating over her back, one hand tangling in the curls at the base of her neck.

It’s too much when she meets his gaze again.

The way that lust has blown her green eyes dark. The way that plush lips hang open and wet from his tongue. The humid heat of bodies and the smack of flesh.

The way she looks at him with something he can’t name.

And Frankie can’t hold back anymore. He’s rough with her now. Building with frantic speed that has her bracing one palm against sunroof glass with her head thrown back, the sound of skin-on-skin echoing around the truck.

“Fuck, you’re so deep,” she keens.

“Yeah?”

He knows.

One hand moves to cup the base of her skull and roughly pulls her face back to his. 

“You like that?” Frankie presses his forehead to hers, grabbing her hard by the hips, and thrusts up hard into her cunt.

“Fuck,” she whispers.

“Yeahh you do,” he smirks, tipping his face to kiss her. “I know what my girl likes.”

He holds her hips, fully inside of her, the head of his cock pressed deep, guiding her back and forth to grind against him. Putting pressure on her clit. 

“Frankie, Frankie, Fr—ohh,” she breathes.

She can feel him smile against her mouth. 

“You gonna come for me, baby?”

She moans and tries to roll her hips but Frankie’s fingers dig in. 

“My pace, baby.”

And she groans in frustration.

“No, none of that,” he chuckles darkly, one hand sliding along the crease of her hip to rub circles against her clit.

Audrey digs the nails of one hand into the seat and wraps the other hand around the back of Frankie’s neck.

His tongue slips back into her mouth and he rolls his hips without pulling out, just barely teasing at that spot deep inside of her that makes her fall apart. 

“Jesus, Frankie,” she throws her head back. He watches her chest heave. The way the curves of her breasts catch the moonlight shining through the sunroof. He latches his mouth to one, tongue laving over sensitive skin.

The hand on the back of his neck grips hard at his hair and Frankie slips the flat of his teeth over her nipple before she tugs, bringing his mouth back to hers.

Frankie’s arm wraps around the small of her back as his thumb and his hips speed up, growling now. She reaches down, skating her hand over where his rests. Her fingers replace his thumb on her clit and Frankie squeezes the globes of her ass.

“Frankie, I don’t think…”

“Turn around,” he commands.

And she arches an eyebrow, slowly climbing off of him, both moaning at the loss of contact. Frankie urges her around, a palm skating between her shoulder blades, pressing her forward to lean against the back of the passenger’s seat. She languidly drapes her arms over either side of the headrest. 

Frankie shifts on the seat and slowly sinks inside of her again.

“Ohh fuck,” she sighs, forehead thumping against leather. 

Frankie spreads his thighs wider.

“Sit, baby,” but he doesn’t allow her time to react before yanking her down onto his lap, fully sheathed inside of her. He moves slowly at first testing this new angle before leaning forward, dropping kisses down her spine.

“That better?”

And she hums a laugh, glancing back over her shoulder. Frankie’s eyes flick up to her and he grins, nipping at her skin. 

He hooks a hand over her shoulder as he fucks her with the other on her waist, building in pace until his hips lift off the seat with every thrust as she bucks her hips back against him. Audrey reaches between her legs to rub her clit and Frankie growls.

“Yeah, baby.”

And the angle is perfect now and Audrey starts to cry out from the depths of her chest. “Frankie, that’s it, that’s it, that’s it, that’s—OH.” She braces her free hand on the back of the seat and Frankie feels his balls tighten when she pushes back against him as pleasure sears through her.  

Frankie slows his thrusts, moaning as her walls milk his cock.

Audrey finally exhales on a ragged cry and Frankie wraps an arm around her waist to pull her against his skin as hips pick up speed, chasing his own release. 

She arches in his hold, head falling back against his shoulder. Frankie hips snap hard with a shout as his cock pulses, his body shuddering with it. 

Nose smashing against her cheekbone. 

Teeth softly nipping at her jaw.

Audrey reaches up to cup his cheek, lips pressing softly to the corner of his mouth. Frankie kisses her properly, slow and wet as palms rub across her stomach, up her ribs and over her breasts as his tongue slips into her mouth.

The windows of the Rover have gone foggy with heat.

He wraps his arms around her waist and holds her to him, softening cock still inside of her, chest heaving as she moans softly through ragged breaths, still tingling.

Frankie kisses at her cheek and up to her temple before whispering, “was that…?”

“So good.” She shifts and Frankie holds her tighter, head thumping against hers.

“Don’t. Don’t leave me yet,” he pants.

“Frankie,” she scratches lovingly at his scalp. “Baby. I really have to pee.”

And he laughs a self-satisfied laugh against her hairline.

“Okay,” he shifts her, pulling out of her heat with a moan. “Wait,” he holds her with an iron arm around her waist, swiping a hand through the fog on the window, checking that it’s clear before he cracks the door. 

He shifts her onto the seat as he steps out first.

“I’m a big girl, Frankie, I can…”

He holds both hands out to her, corseting her waist, intending to half lift her down onto the beach. “You’re gonna fall, Bambi Legs.”

And she can’t help the hearty laugh that it pulls from her.

True to form, her legs falter the moment her feet hit the sand, but Frankie holds her to his chest, staring down at her through warm brown eyes, tucking her hair behind her ear with a wink. 

Frankie kisses her on the forehead and spins her around towards a small outcropping of rocks. “Go on, Bambi,” he swats her on the ass.

“Can I have my underwear at least?”

“No,” Frankie screws up his face and scoffs, reaching into the tangle of clothes in the backseat to fish out her thong. He has it crushed to his nose when he turns around.

“Perv,” she quips with a grin, swatting him on the arm with them after he hands them over.

She returns to find Frankie leaning against a tire, back door open, barefoot and clad in his jeans and cap, one of her cigarettes dangling between his lips. 

“Excuse me, sir, you can’t smoke there,” she quips as she molds her body against his, slipping her hands into his back pockets. Frankie lights the cigarette and blows the first puff out of the corner of his mouth before holding it to her lips. She inhales before Frankie follows suit.

Audrey pulls away from him, reaching for her sports bra and linen pants. Frankie presses his chest to her back after she pulls them both on, reaching for his t-shirt.

“Leave it,” she spins around and Frankie pops the cigarette between her lips as she runs her hand over his bare stomach.

“Yes, ma’am.” Frankie smiles before his eyes fall on the backseat. 

“We gotta clean this.”

Audrey slips around him, cigarette dangling from her lips, and pops the trunk open, rummaging around for a moment before tossing a packet of Clorox wipes in his direction.

Frankie cleans the seats as she starts the truck and rolls the windows down.

They drive back to the safehouse along the coastal road in companionable silence, wind whipping around the cabin, carrying wisps of cigarette smoke on salted breeze. 

Audrey drives with one hand, fingers of the other laced with Frankie’s.

_____

TUESDAY

When Santiago slips into the driver’s seat the next day for their early morning recon run, the first thing he does is briefly peer over the top of his sunglasses.

“Goddard, I can see your ass-print on the hood.”

“How do you know that’s not Morales,” she quips from the backseat.

“Morales has no ass.”

“Well, you said no come stains.” She pops her gum in the backseat as she loads another magazine into her rifle. “Nothing about ass prints.”  

Frankie pulls the brim of his cap down against Pope’s searing stare and bites the inside of his cheek to hide his smirk.

“Unbelievable,” Santi starts the ignition. “You two are unbelievable.”

“Unbelievably good at fixing that belt.” Frankie quips, banging one palm on the dashboard as they pull out of the drive.

“Fuck you, Fish.”

“She did that already.”

Audrey cackles from the backseat.

_____

Six hours later, Benny shows up on the doorstep of their safehouse.

Audrey greets him in leggings and a worn green t-shirt. 

“Well hell-o,” Benny peers down at her over the frames of his aviators.

“Miller?”

“Yup, yeah. Ben Miller,” he holds out his hand. 

“Audrey Goddard,” she offers a sturdy shake. “Come in, come in. The boys are just through in the back here,” she gestures through to the backyard.

Fish and Pope are locked in a sparring match, Frankie’s arm around Pope’s throat, wooden knife pulled out, ready to jab between Santi’s ribs before Pope taps him twice on the arm.

“Boys?’ Audrey calls.

Both of their heads turn in her direction and immediately they erupt in camaraderie. 

Hugs and claps on the back, big smiles all around. 

Audrey slips back inside, allowing them a moment to catch up.

After they’ve said their hellos Benny nods towards the house, “so uh, who’s that? She come with the place?”

“Moose? Nah. She’s running this thing.” Santi grins. 

“Like the coordinator?”

“No, like the Mission Commander, Benny.” Frankie scoffs. 

“No shit,” Benny perches his hands on his hips.

“Well. She technically outranks you,” Santi whacks Benny’s chest with the back of his hand. “Don’t overstep.”

And overstep is the first thing that Benny does.

“So you’re the Mission Commander?” Benny barks when she returns.

“Yes,” Audrey sets a fresh pitcher of water on the patio table.

“What’s your background?”

“I’ll have Davis email you my full roster,” she slips dark shades over her eyes against the sharp afternoon sun.

“Can’t tell me yourself?”

“We don’t have that much time.”

“What branch?”

“Never served under a branch.”

“So you never served.”

“I’ve been serving for almost 25 years, Miller.”

“Benny, did you not get—” Santi starts.

“I did. Didn’t read it.” Benny’s eyes are still locked on hers from behind mirrored aviators. “Alright,” he nods toward the lawn. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”

Frankie lets out a low whistle. “You’re about to be humbled, Benjamin.”

“Maybe,” he calls, not believing it for a second. “You’re tiny, though,” he says to Audrey, who slips off her shades and tosses them to Frankie.

Audrey’s no waif, but Benny is nine inches taller and has fifty pounds on her. 

And Benny fights guys bigger than he is down at the gym all the time. And wins. 

There’s no way in his mind that she can best him. 

“Take those off, pretty boy,” she points at his shades.

“‘S fine.”

“Alrigh,” she toes at the dirt, “not on me if they break.”

“Alright, keep it clean you two. No punches, no kicks, nothing permanent,” Santi calls. “Aud, you got knives on you?”

She reaches into her boots and pulls two out to hand over.

“Benny?”

“Nah, I just got off a plane, man.”

“Alright, set it up.”

 Benny jumps a few times before holding his fists up to his cheeks in a guard.

Audrey drops her right foot back and crouches.

And Santi gives the cue.

Immediately Benny closes the distance between the two of them, scooping her up and throwing her over his shoulder like a ragdoll. She’s quick to react, twisting to hook the inside of her elbow around the back of her knee, pulling tight such that the crease of her hip and the top of her thigh apply pressure on Benny’s neck, choking off his carotid artery.

He has no choice but to tap out, aviators hanging awkwardly off of the end of his nose.

“Okay,” he finally hands them off to Santi, raking his hair out of his eyes, “two out of three.”

Santi gives the signal again and Benny goes for her knees this time, immediately dropping her to the ground. They tussle for a moment before Audrey locks Benny in a triangle choke that he can’t find his way out of.

He taps out against her collarbone.

“Okay, three tries,” Benny grunts, blue shirt starting to darken with sweat.

“Benny, that’s—” Fish tries to intervene.

“It’s fine, Frankie,” Audrey’s chest is heaving as she holds up a hand in his direction. “Let him have it.”

They get back into position and when Santi gives the signal Benny is immediately behind her, trapping her neck in a chokehold between his arms, huge palm applying pressure to the back of her skull.

Frankie twitches but Santi holds out a hand.

Audrey jumps with her legs in the air, using their weight to swing Benny forward, turning as she lands and slipping her head from between his arms. Benny braces himself on his palms and immediately constricts, balling himself in an effort to cut off her ability to hook any of his limbs. In a flash she leans on his back, wrapping an arm over one shoulder and the other under the opposite armpit, prying one elbow away from his torso with a jab of her knee. Her leg hooks it and kicks back, taking Benny’s arm with it to its full span. She locks the top of her foot over her calf with his outstretched limb between her legs and spreads her knees, the pressure from her hips bending Benny’s arm the wrong way until he frantically slaps at a patch of dirt.

She instantly unfolds from him and rolls away into the grass.

“Alright,” he pants, holding out a fist, still face-down on his stomach. “You win.”

Audrey taps it with her own knuckles, fighting for breath. “You alright?”

“Yeah,” Benny swallows hard through his panting, “Yeah I’m good.”

He sits up and stretches his arm for good measure.

“Can we be done here?” Frankie asks, unsure that his heart can handle seeing her in danger, and positive that his dick is going to act up seeing her get herself out of it. “It’s fuckin’ hot.”

They take turns with showers between the safehouse’s two bathrooms, until Frankie slips in with Audrey.

“Thoughts?” He asks quietly, wetting his hair under the spray.

“He made good choices out there,” she hands him the bottle of shampoo. “Smart in a fight.”

“Yeah, Benny fights down at the local gym. Kind of a small-town celebrity.” He sneaks a kiss at the nape of her neck as he scrubs at his scalp before rinsing. “I didn’t know you could do that, though.” 

“Getting too old for much hand-to-hand these days,” she winks over her shoulder at him as he grabs the conditioner bottle from her, raking cream through her curls before slicking the excess through his own hair.

“He got you good back here,” Frankie delicately runs thick fingers over the bruises blossoming on the wings of her hip bones from when Benny took her knees out from under her. 

Frankie wraps his arms around her waist, holding her to his chest a moment.

“Don’t like seeing you like that.”

“This is what we do, Frankie,” she soothes a palm over his forearm.

“Yeah.”

And he gently turns her head to slip his tongue into her mouth, enjoying this moment to themselves.

Frankie warmed by the water. 

Audrey warmed by Frankie.

_____

They rejoin the boys in the kitchen where Santi has started on steaks and Benny has thrown in to whip up roasted vegetables. 

Frankie cracks open beers and passes them around.

Afternoon flows into evening. Beer flows into liquor. 

Camaraderie abounds.

Somewhere around 10pm, when Audrey excuses herself to the restroom, the whiskey in Benny’s veins springs a question loose.

“Alright, boys,” his voice is low. “Which one of you is hittin’ that because if you’re not, I’m gonna.”

“That’s pretty bold of you to assume she’d have you, Benny,” Pope reaches for his glass.

“It’s that white boy confidence,” Frankie quips from where he’s leaned back in his chair and Santi snorts, nearly spitting out his drink.

“I mean—” and Benny makes a show of running his hand through his hair. “But seriously, is she single?”

“She’s not gonna fuck you, Benny.” Santi grins.

“Alright, okay. I see you, Pope,” Benny smacks the back of his hand against Santi’s arm.

“I think I have to turn in, boys,” Audrey sighs when she returns, reaching for her glass without sitting and tossing back the last of her gin. “We’ll run it through top to bottom tomorrow and get you geared up,” she nods at Benny. “I have Davis’ guys refreshing the intel. Provided everything still checks out, we’ll execute on Thursday as originally planned.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Benny nods. Bourbon eyes starting to fall heavy on the sway of her hips. 

She places her glass in the sink before moving to gently grab Frankie’s chin one hand, thumb and middle fingers fitting in the bare patches in his beard, and bends to give him a quick, chaste kiss.

He hooks an arm around her waist when she moves away, hauling her against him again, “I’ll be there in a sec,” he assures her before craning his head up for her lips again.

“No rush,” she soothes a hand over the span of his chest, “I might be back down for water, but you boys enjoy. G’night.”

When she’s upstairs and out of earshot, Benny erupts in hushed tones.

“CATFISH, YOU DOG.”

Frankie grins and blushes in that order.

“Damn,” Benny muses to himself as he takes another sip of whiskey. “I would not have guessed.”

“Ah c’mon you should know better, Benny.” Santi jabs a thumb in Frankie’s direction. “Big Dick Morales, remember?”

“BIG. DICK. MORALES.” And Benny holds his hand up for a high-five that Frankie rolls his eyes at, crossing his arms against his chest instead. “Damn.”

“Bastard finally found his glass slipper,” Santi quips.

“Jesus Christ, Pope,” an agitated Frankie rubs at his eyes. “Okay can we—” Frankie winds his hand forward through the air, wanting desperately to move away from this line of conversation. 

Benny leans in across the table, finger pointed at the ceiling in reference to the woman upstairs, “the whole thing? Fuuuck.”

“Dude, you can hear the two of them like three rooms over,” Santi snarks.

“Oh well you gotta enlighten us, Catfish,” Benny spreads his arms and leans back in his chair.

“I ain’t tellin’ you shit, Benjamin.” Frankie quips, swallowing a mouthful of whiskey.

“Ah, c’mon, Fish. You know me and this one are painfully single.” Benny smacks Pope on the arm again. Like literally, my balls ache.”

“That’s not a real thing,” Frankie shakes his head.

“It is!”

“Then get acquainted with your hand, Benny, I dunno what to tell you.”

“She is smokin’ hot, Catfish. Can I at least get some material here…”

Frankie shakes his head and starts, “I’d suggest you try www dot p-o-r…”

And there’s a snort from the stairwell

Audrey in black sleep shorts and a Nine Inch Nails t-shirt, metal waterbottle in hand.

And she watches the tips of Benny’s ears start to burn.

Even Santiago sits up a bit straighter.

Frankie covers the smirk on his face with the heel of his palm.

Because he knows Audrey’s about to put Benny back in line for the second time today.

“Don’t let me stop you, boys,” she pads over to the sink on bare feet to fill her bottle.

Fraught silence hangs in the air until Benny pipes up.

“We uh, we were just asking Big Dick Morales over here to tell us his secret.” Bourbon has made Benny’s tongue loose. “Seems like you could have anyone and yet you chose this guy. Must know something we don’t.”

Audrey has a measured tolerance for many things. 

Slandering her lover is not one of them. 

“Benny,” she places her water bottle on the table. “Benjamin?” And she drapes her arm across Benny’s shoulders in a move that sends him rigid in his chair from the slouch he was in.

“You really want to know his secret?”

Benny swallows hard. 

“He’s sweet. He’s smart. He’s funny. There’s no peacocking with him. It’s that easy, Benny.”

Benny snorts like he doesn't believe her. 

Sober Ben Miller would never steal a friend’s girl. Drunk Ben Miller is a 6’3” blue-eyed, dirty dishwater blonde who’s never been told ‘no.’

And Audrey needs to disavow him of whatever little fantasy he has that distracts him from the task at hand and makes him think she’ll end up in his bed after the celebratory round of drinks when this is all through.

She cranes low to whisper near Benny’s ear, eyes glinting where they’re locked on Frankie’s mischievous, half-lidded ones. “Okay, here’s a secret, Benny. You ever found that spot that’s so deep it makes your lady see stars? Not the one up front, any idiot can find that. It’s way back in there, tucked away because it’s the most precious place you’ll ever go. That one spot that sets her whole body reeling for minutes afterward. You ever found that?”

And she waits until Benny answers, “no.”

“No? Santi, you ever done that?” She doesn’t move, and doesn’t break Frankie’s stare as she asks it.

“Once or twice,” it’s the truth, but Santiago smirks because he knows what she’s doing and agrees that it needs done. “It’s been years though.”

“Wild. Frankie hits that every. time.”

She claps him on the back, “you should try it, Benny. Good communication is key, but you’ll get there.”

And she hooks a finger into the cap of her water bottle and heads for the stairs.

Frankie throws them a salute with two fingers and follows right behind her.

“Was that too harsh?” She whispers when Frankie turns the lock on the bedroom door, brown eyes wide.

“Baby,” he grabs her around the waist, peppering her face with the softness of his lips and the scrape of his scruff. “That was so. fucking. sexy.” He trails his nose down her neck, licking and sucking at her skin.

“I only told the truth, Francisco,” she throws her arms around his neck.

And Frankie presses her to him, palm accidentally catching on her bruises and she winces.

“Fuck, I’m sorry,” he apologizes with lips on her neck.

“‘S okay,” a kiss, “get in bed, Frankie.”

Frankie hums, tongue licking behind her teeth. 

And she crawls under the duvet, settling on her side as Frankie quietly strips down to his boxer briefs, placing his cap on the nightstand.

Frankie hums as his lips find her ear and his hand cups her breast, making her arch back against him with a moan.

“Shhh baby,” Frankie soothes. “Not sure how thin these walls are.”

“Pope doesn’t give a shit.”

“Benny might. Wouldn’t want to scare the kid.”

“That’s a grown man, Francisco,” she whispers as she twists in his hold, hand cupping his jaw. “And I don’t really care what Benny hears,” her fingers slip down his stomach, nails catching on the trail of hair leading under his waistband.

She smirks against his lips, “how did that conversation even start?”

“Mhmm,” Frankie squeezes her thigh and pulls her closer to him, nose skimming her cheek. “Benny wanted to know if you’re single.”

“Am I not?”

“No. You’re mine.”

And he moves before Audrey can process Frankie having laid their situation that bare in front of her. He rolls and pulls her with him to lie on his chest, hand cradling her skull as his lips find hers.

But he senses her hesitation.

“Do—do you want to fuck Benny?” His eyes are suddenly soft. Unsure of himself.

“No, Frankie, I don’t want to fuck Benny.” She adjusts to straddle his hips and sits up, raking her hair out of her eyes.

“Then wh—”

“Shhh, Frankie, please,” she soothes both hands over the slight swell of his belly. “Tonight, I’m yours,” she cranes down to kiss him, “and for the rest of this trip, I’m yours.”

But it all sounds so temporary.

And he wants so desperately to push back. To ask what happens in the after. 

What happens when she goes home? Does she lay in bed alone, sleeping like a baby, or is her bed warmed by someone else? 

Does she wish for his company when she goes to the movies, does she need someone to hold her shopping bags at the mall, who packs her groceries in her fridge, or does she do it all alone?

Does she make herself come and wish it was him?

Is he some secret she keeps stashed away?

Is there another?

Does she think of him at all?

“But—”

“Francisco. Leave it.” Her gaze is granite. “Please. Please let us just have this. Right here. Right now.”

And the thing in her eyes is back again. The thing he can’t quite name.

But there’s want there too.

And it’s only the whiskey with a side of beer that allows him to acquiesce.

“Okay,” he whispers, kissing her deeply before sitting up, palms skating up the panes of her back before flipping her over, parting her legs with his shoulders.

And he means okay out of desperation. The visceral need to prove his worth to a woman that could slip through his fingers and into another man’s bed on a whim.

There would be a taker downstairs.

And okay he’s going to do his best.

Okay, he’ll pour want—need—through his fingertips.

Okay.

He’ll crack granite.

And Frankie has all the right moves. The skillful flick of his tongue, the hollowing of his cheeks, and the pump of his fingers.

But Audrey’s brain won’t let her come.

“Baby,” he looks up from between her thighs, rubbing a palm down her stomach, “where are you?”

She takes a deep breath as he rakes his hair off of his forehead and runs his tongue over a bottom lip wet with her slick.

“Fuck, I’m sorry, baby.” She props herself up on her elbows and Frankie gently lets her legs fall open to climb up her body, the tip of his nose brushing hers.

“What’s wrong, gatita?” He whispers.

And that word feels a world away from where they are now.

“Think I’m just distracted, Frankie.”

“It’s okay. It’s okay, that’s okay, baby,” he tucks a stray curl behind her ear before shifting around to lay next to her. He settles on his side, pulling the duvet up enough to take the tent in his boxer briefs out of the equation.

She stares into the middle distance while Frankie sits with her in the silence. 

Palm still rubbing her stomach under her t-shirt.

Trying to soothe himself with her skin.

He’s losing her.

She settles down next to him, his hand settling on her ribcage, thumb rubbing soft circles into her skin.

Big green eyes settling on brown ones that are doing their best to hide panic.

When she reaches for his cheek his lids flutter closed, her cold hand a balm to his burn.

Audrey maps the contours of his face with reverent fingers. Palm curving over the roundness of his cheeks. Nails catching on his beard. Thumb tracing echoes of the joy that accumulates in the corners of tired eyes. 

She runs her index finger lightly over the scar on the bridge of his nose.

She presses a kiss to his lips.

And he offers a soft smile when he opens his eyes again.

“Frankie,” she whispers, running her thumb feather-light over his bottom lip, “do you remember what I told you. That second night?”

“You told me a lot of things that second night,” he runs his fingertips down her spine.

“But what I always come back to is—”

“You’re beautiful.”

They both whisper it at the same time.

The corner of Frankie’s lips quirk in a gentle smile that dimples one cheek.

“You’re beautiful Frankie,” she kisses his chin. “I need you to know. You’re beautiful.”

And it soothes him in the moment. Enough that his eyes start to slip closed, pulled at first by the weight in his chest. The need to shut out this reality. 

She turns in his arms to press her back to his chest and he pulls her in to him, tucking his nose against her neck.

Settling into each other like they do every night they share a borrowed bed.

And Frankie slips off, warm breath skating over her skin.

But Audrey’s heart still pounds in her ears.

_____

They shift around each other in the night.

Frankie’s legs tangling with hers.

Her fist clenching in the cotton of his shirt.

His palm cupping her warm breast. Staying there.

Audrey’s tongue slipping into his mouth.

Frankie pulling at her waist urging her on top of him.

“Baby, I need you—” he swallows hard. Unable, through the haze of sleep, to stave off the seep of apprehension into his viscera. 

Desperation.

It bleeds into the haze of his dreams and back out into reality when her weight blankets him.

He skates his nose up the side of her neck, hot puffs of breath dampening her skin before he nips at her ear, “now. Right now baby.”

Take this feeling from me.

Let me prove that you’re mine.

She sits up from where she straddles his hips, pulling her t-shirt off as Frankie rights himself to lave his tongue over one tight nipple.

Audrey wraps her arms around his neck and his hands settle over her shoulder blades before he lays her backwards, kissing a path down her form as her fingers tangle in his hair.

He feasts until her body goes taught with pleasure, every throb of her walls around his fingers a beat of reassurance to his buzzing mind.

She keens his name when she breathes again.

“I’m here, baby. I’m here,” he hurriedly tugs his boxer briefs down, pumping his thick, weeping cock.

He rubs the head of his cock through her folds before sinking in slowly, mouth dropping open a fraction with each inch that he gives her. 

Audrey’s back arches off the bed, hand flying to cover her mouth.

Frankie weights her form with his, kissing at her knuckles, begging for the moans trapped behind them.

She allows it.

Allows Frankie’s tongue into the wet of her mouth, still tasting of her.

Allows him to sit up and bring both of her legs together, holding her ankles with one massive hand as she reaches back to grip the edge of the bed. He guides one to each shoulder, fingers digging into the meat of her thighs. 

Knocking against something sacred.

And she’s trying. 

Trying not to scream for him.

Not to let slip how she needs him.

Here. Like this.

All ways. Always.

But Frankie settles one palm low on her stomach and applies pressure with the heel of it. Feeling the bulge of his cock as he fucks into her. 

A bit more pressure and the crown of his cock catches her g-spot. Over and over.

Sending sparks across her vision.

And Audrey loses it.

Composure.

Sanity.

The scream choked in the back of her throat.

The tenuous hold she had on the tide of pleasure that breaks over her now, causing frantic hands to reach for his wrist and nails to sink into his thigh.

Walls throbbing around his cock.

She’s probably woken the whole house.

Good.

Frankie’s jaw clenches through the pulsing of her cunt, thumb slipping through the slick he pulls from her core to wind against her clit.

He can’t keep the moans in now.

And so he gives them to her.

Leaning forward with one leg still over his shoulder to bite at her bottom lip.

“You’ve got one more in you,” he inhales through his teeth, “don’t you, baby? One more, come on baby.”

“Frankie,” she sobs, swallowing hard, “you know better,” she grips at the sweaty roots of his hair. “You know better than that, baby.”

And he growls from somewhere deep in his chest, sitting up enough to let her leg down.

But he lets it down across his body, slipping his cock from her heat and flipping her over onto her stomach with the momentum of it.

Audrey immediately braces herself on her forearms as Frankie thrusts back inside of her, the weight of his body falling against her not a moment after.

“I do know better,” he mashes his nose to her temple. “I know my baby likes it like this, doesn’t she?”

And it’s so sordid. The speed with which Frankie’s hips move now, skin slapping against hers. The way his tongue licks a stripe over her ear. The wet squelch of his cock through her slick.

The grunts he can’t help when he’s this close. 

Audrey grins with teeth in her bottom lip from under a cascade of black curls.

“I can feel it, you know,” Frankie purrs, beard scraping against her cheek before his nose follows suit. “Feel when I’m in that spot.” He sucks on her neck before sliding the flat of his teeth against her skin.

She lets out a sultry hum.

“Like it was made for me. So fucking tight around my cock.”

And all she can do is moan in response because he’s slowed his pace. There’s the slightest circle to his hips with every thrust.

Grinding deep—hard—as if to prove his point.

He’s doing it spectacularly.

“Jesus, Frankie,” she moans, head dropping into the space between her forearms. 

She’s warm gold in his hands, pliable and glistening. Bending with his attention. Made malleable with his want.

Something precious.

He props himself up with one arm and runs a reverent palm down her spine before fitting fingers to the curve of her waist and slipping under her hips.

She keens the moment he starts toying with her clit.

“Harder, Frankie,” she gasps with the breath that he hasn’t stolen from her ribcage.

He moans, a deep, cracked thing as he buries his face between her shoulder blades.

The snap of his hips jostles her against the mattress, slowly at first before Frankie’s rational brain shuts off.

He slips his fingers from her, reaching for her thigh and pulling it up towards her waist, fitting his knee behind it.

Hips grinding her clit against the bed.

His pace builds until his moans drown out her fractured sobs of pleasure, teeth scraping at her shoulder, her body blanketed by the breadth of his form. 

She slips one hand down to work her clit. “Frankie, yes, yes, ye—”

“C’mon, baby. Yeahhh—”

“Oh fuck. Frankie. Frankie, Frankie, Fr—” Her body bows, back colliding with his chest the moment he moves to kiss her with a open, uncoordinated mouth as her walls clench hard around him.

“‘M gonna fucking come,” he hisses in her ear. “Gonna come. Gonna—fucking—cover you with it.”

And she keens between the aftershocks and Frankie’s promise, burying her face in the tangle of sheets.

“You—yeahh—you want that? Want my come? Fuck, baby—” he chokes out.

And it takes everything he has to pull out of the grip of her cunt at the last minute, wrapping his fist around his heavy length, pumping his cock twice before thick ropes of come streak across her spine.

Frankie roars, rushing to slam his cock back inside of her, still throbbing with his release, body twitching and trembling with pleasure before he stills.

Audrey’s soft moans call him back to her. 

Fragile, wrecked things, tangled with heaving breath.

Frankie pulls out with a groan from them both as Audrey protests the loss of his heat at her back.

Until the hot wet of Frankie’s tongue slides over her skin.

He cleans her of his come with a greedy mouth, lips sucking up her spine as he does.

“Fuck,” she whispers.

Finally he returns his full weight to her, one hand splaying against her jaw and bringing her face back towards his.

He tastes of himself. 

Bitter salt and insatiable lips.

Audrey’s face drops back into the sheets when he lets her go, arching up against him with the need to feel his solid weight.

His warmth.

Frankie gently gathers her hair in one hand, peppering her neck and back with kisses before he rests his chin into the curve of one shoulder.

She’s molten now.

“W’s that okay?” He whispers.

And she’s incapable of doing anything more than letting out a throaty, satisfied hum and pressing a kiss to the scruff of his cheek.

Frankie musters enough strength to pull her with him back up to the head of the bed, tucking her against his chest, palm soothing over her back as she nuzzles her nose against his neck.

Audrey’s hazy, murmured, “you’re beautiful,” is the last thing either of them hear before sleep takes them again.

_____

THURSDAY

“Boys, we have a slight wrinkle. They’ve got three more jeeps out here than they did yesterday,” Audrey reports as she stares through a pair of binoculars from where she’s parked a mile away from the compound.

“Benny and I could slash those tires before heading in,” Santiago’s voice crackles over comms.

“Too risky and you wouldn’t have time. They’re on the opposite side of the compound from your entry point.”

“Problem is, more trucks means more men,” Benny chimes in.

“It also means unfamiliar faces. Might actually make it easier to slip in,” Frankie muses.

“I have a distraction in my back pocket, but report back when you’re in position,” Audrey radios.

“I bet you do.”

Frankie growls, “she means an RPG, Benny.”

They suffer through fifteen minutes of silence before Santi reports back. “You were right, Fish.”

“Let us walk right in,” Benny murmurs.

“Consensus seems to be they’re prepping to move the hostage in about an hour. We’ll ingratiate ourselves until then.”

“This’ll be easier than we thought, boys.”

Frankie hisses, Audrey shushes, and Santi shoots him a pointed stare.

“Don’t fuckin’ say that Benjamin.” Fish growls.

“It’s not done yet,” Audrey murmurs.

Ten minutes later, Benny asks, “Moose, did those Jeeps look armored?”

“Unfortunately for you, no.”

“Okay, we have a slight hiccup,” Benny’s voice is low. “Their planned extraction route has changed. They’re heading in the opposite direction from the airstrip.”

“Great,” Frankie mutters.

“So, my way,” Audrey chimes in.

“The planned route runs right past you, Moose,” Santiago adds.

“We could still take the risk. Break at the last minute?” Benny suggests.

“Too dangerous if those Jeeps aren’t armored. Aud can start knocking them off but they’ve got more men than we accounted for and we dunno how many vehicles they’re going to mobilize,” Fish scratches at his chin and reaches for a map.

“Moose, that Rover have a turbo on it?”

“It’s got two, Benny. But we still can’t make that run to the safehouse. The jungle’s too dense and they’ll be too hot on our tail the minute they get wise. We have to get the hostage into the chopper and Frankie’s gotta make the final run.”

And it’s like she and Frankie have the same idea at the same time.

“So, this is risky—” Fish starts.

“The beach.” Audrey says.

“Think that would give you enough space?”

“If you can be there the minute we break through.”

“I can.”

Audrey’s quiet for a moment, running through contingencies. “Okay boys, we’re gonna do a live handoff.”

“You’re not gonna stop, Aud?” Santi asks, voice jumping half an octave.

“I don’t think we’ll have time. Think you and Benny can handle that switch?”

“You hop in the bird and I can hand her up,” Benny mumbles to Santi.

“Yeah,” Pope nods with bright eyes. “Yeah, that’ll work.”

“We’re good if you both are,” Benny reports.

“Frankie, you good?” Audrey asks.

“I’m good. Give me a five minute warning before hostage extraction, I’ll get this up and hold the area.”

“Okay. Santi and Benny, you come straight to me. No sense in taking men out if they’re headed this direction anyway, it’ll just tip them off. But that means you boys are gonna have to floor it. Give me as much lead time as you can.”

“Done.” Benny answers.

“I’ll drive. You get in the back with the girl,” Pope nods.

“Yeah.”

“Anyone have any questions?” Audrey asks.

She gets three ‘no’s.’

“Everyone clear on their role?”

She gets three ‘yes’s.’

“If anyone has any doubts, speak up now. If not, everyone confirm, individually, that this plan is a go.”

Without hesitation, everyone answers ‘confirmed.’

“Alright boys. Benny and Pope, are you both in position to start the clock?”

“Yes.”

“Okay. I’m officially marking five minutes until extraction. Frankie, get her up.”

“Roger.”

Ninety seconds later Frankie confirms he’s in the air and has cleared the airstrip.

“Benny and Pope, you’re cleared to move in accordance with the timeframe.”

They’re out and in the back of the Jeep in another seven minutes. An unknown man slips into the passenger seat thinking he’ll hitch a ride with the boys, and Benny covers the girl’s eyes and ears with two massive hands as Pope fires a silenced shot at the man’s temple before he floors the truck.

They catch up to Audrey in another two minutes.

“They’re sixty seconds behind us,” Benny blurts out as he opens the door, immediately grabbing the girl out of the backseat. “Sorry about this, sweetheart,” he mumbles as he picks her up and hurriedly transfers her into the Rover, sliding in behind her and slamming the door.

She’s quiet and pliant, but there’s panic in her eyes. 

“Santi, there’s two minutes on that,” Audrey simultaneously tosses a live charge to Santi who slaps it onto the Jeep, right over the gas tank, before he slips into the passenger seat, slamming his door as Audrey hits the accelerator.

“Frankie, we’re on the move. ETA to the beach is seven minutes.” Santiago reports.

Audrey catches the little girl’s wide brown eyes in the mirror.

“Hey Diana,” she says with far more calm in her voice than she has any right to have. “I’m Moose. This is Pope,” she gestures to Santi who turns around and offers the girl a winning smile, “and that’s Ben next to you.”

“I know all of this is a lot. But we’re here to get you home.” Santi assures her.

“You ever been on a helicopter, Diana?” Audrey asks again and the boys pick up on where she’s going with it.

“One time,” the girl answers in a soft voice.

“That’s awesome!” Benny chimes in. “Did you like it?”

She nods.

“Well, there’s a helicopter coming around just for you that’s going to fly you to your parents.”

“Okay.”

“We’re gonna help get you inside, but we’re gonna need you to be really brave, okay?” Santi says. “The guy flying the helicopter is called Catfish, he’s my best friend. And I’m going to be with you the whole time.”

She nods, eyes still wide with fear.

“We’re gonna have to move pretty fast once we get down to the beach okay?” Benny says as they hear the charge Santi set go off in the background.

“We’re gonna crawl out through there,” Pope points at the sunroof.

And she starts shaking her head ‘no.’

“Hey, Diana?”

This from Audrey.

“I just wanted to tell you that I think you’re the bravest person I’ve ever met.”

“Really?”

“I really do!”

She brightens a bit at that.

“I know you can do this. And these boys are going to keep you safe, that’s what they do best. Keep people safe. And then in less than an hour, you’ll be with your parents.” She meets the girl’s eyes in the mirror again. “I promise.”

“You pinky swear?”

Audrey laughs and reaches one gloved hand behind her.

“I pinky swear.”

And she feels a small tug at her hand.

Benny holds his pinky out and Diana wraps her small finger around it before doing the same with Santi.

“Frankie, beach in one,” Audrey reports.

“Roger,” he returns over coms and thirty seconds later they hear the thump of rotor blades. “They’re about two minutes behind you.”

“That’s your ride, Diana,” Santi flips the switch to open the sunroof as he crouches on the passenger seat.

“Diana?” Audrey asks.

“Yeah?”

“Keep your eyes shut real tight for me until Pope tells you to open them again, okay?”

And the little girl shuts her eyes and covers her ears as Audrey wrenches the wheel to the right and hits sand.

“Frankie, I’m going to aim for 60 mph, or I’ll run out of beach too quickly,” she reports.

“Roger.”

And Audrey lines the Rover up on firm sand as the thump of rotor blades grows louder. Wind and sand whip around the cabin as Santiago climbs out of the sunroof.

When Frankie gets the bird close enough, the downdraft from the rotor blades keeps sand in the cabin to a minimum, but creates a wake around the Rover.

Audrey’s only able to see about a hundred feet in front of her at any given time.

“Frankie, my vis is shit, callout if we’re gonna hit anything.”

“You’re clear for at least two miles if you hold it straight. Rock outcrop that would take some maneuvering just short of mile three.”

Two minutes. They have two minutes.

Santiago grips the roof rack in a crouch until Fish brings the helicopter skids within two feet of the truck. 

He easily launches himself onto the skids, Frankie expertly accounting for the impact. 

The bird doesn’t even rock.

Audrey chances a glance up at the chopper.

This is gonna work.

She gestures for Benny to get into position. 

He urges Diana onto the front seat, and mercifully she doesn’t put up a fight.

Benny climbs onto the center console, but the moment he sticks his head out of the sunroof, bullets start flying.

Santiago instantly reacts, laying down suppressive fire as Benny hoists himself up, hooking one foot under a bar of the roof rack, knee on sunroof glass to straddle the open space before he reaches down into the cabin, hoisting Diana up off of her seat with a hand under each arm, his back to the gunfire, shielding her.

Immediately she clings to his neck.

It’s a small blessing when bullets pause.

They don’t want to hit the girl, and Audrey mutters “thank fuck,” under her breath.

Benny assesses their angle and makes eye contact with Santiago who lays his rifle down. 

“Close the sunroof!” Benny yells over rotor blades and wind, and immediately Audrey reaches up to comply, giving Benny more space for solid footing.

It takes less than three seconds for the motor to slide glass closed, but Audrey swears it takes at least a year off of her life.

Benny’s dialed in and readjusts in an instant, standing to his full height.

Frankie and Audrey hold the vehicles dead even with each other, hurtling across the beach at highway speed.

Benny doesn’t hesitate, putting one foot on the skid of the chopper before gently loosening Diana’s hold on him. Santi puts a foot on the skid next to Benny’s and gets well within arms reach. 

Benny still holds Diana close to his body, Pope instead reaching for her.

“On three!” Benny yells, blonde hair whipping around his face.

“ONE.”

Santiago places his hands under Benny’s, making sure he has a firm grip on the girl.

“TWO.”

Benny holds her out just a little farther.

They lock eyes and both nod.

“THREE.”

Benny’s hands drop away and Santiago pulls her in tight to his chest, falling backward into the helicopter as Benny takes his foot off the skid.

“FISH, WE’RE CLEAR GET OUTTA HERE,” Benny crouches down on the roof, screaming into comms as Audrey flips the switch to open the sunroof again.

Benny drops back into the Rover as Frankie pulls hard to the right, peeling out over the ocean and out of range of the bullets that have once again started flying.

Benny reaches through the cabin to grab his rifle off of the back seat and immediately starts firing out of the sunroof as Audrey slows down enough to turn around without rolling the Rover, bringing the truck to a stop.

There’s half a mile between them and the rocks.

Thirty seconds.

She scrambles into the back seat and reaches into the trunk before slowly poking her head up in front of Benny.

Audrey shuffles to the right for clearance, stands on the back seat, and slings a metal tube up over her shoulder.

Half a second later she launches off an RPG.

Anything that remains when the smoke clears is easy work.

Benny takes out three men and Audrey picks off the tires of the one Jeep that made it through.

Everything finally falls silent, save for the muted sounds of the ocean and the crackling of fire—dulled by their ringing ears. 

Audrey reaches for the transmit button on her comms.

“Beach is clear.”

She glances back at where Benny is standing on the passenger seat behind her.

Audrey reaches out a hand.

And Benny shakes it with a laugh.

“Let’s get the fuck out of here, Benjamin.”

“Roger that, Moose. Roger. That.”

_____

Benny tries to hail Pope and Fish over comms periodically on their way back to their safehouse, but between the distance and the terrain, he doesn’t get anything back.

He tries calling and texting, but nothing gets through.

“They’ll have ditched the bird, and it’s probably four hours by car,” Audrey muses as she pulls into the safehouse drive.

“So maybe 6:30? 7?”

“Probably about that.”

“‘Kay.”

But the pauses between their words are thick with worry despite everything still going according to plan. 

They both shower and change into comfortable clothes, Audrey calling in a status report and cleanup while Benny makes hotdogs for their late lunch. 

They fall into conversation that’s far more comfortable now.

He pours Audrey a gin and soda around 5 pm when he can tell she’s still on edge. 

He fixes one for himself too and suggests they sit on the front porch.

6:30 pm comes and goes and Audrey parks herself on the hood of the Rover to light up a smoke.

Benny sits down next to her, propping sandaled feet up on the bullbar.

“Want one?” She angles her packet of Parliaments in his direction.

“Nah,” he politely shakes his head. “Don’t smoke. But you’re good, I don’t mind.”

And she huffs a laugh because Benny’s the one who followed her over here.

He tells her fight night stories to pass the time as she chain smokes, hoping to distract her enough to soothe her buzzing nerves. 

And his.

Audrey pulls a sweatshirt on to guard against the chill.

When 7:30 rolls around, Benny slips a cigarette out of the box and asks if she can give him a light.

Audrey smirks and acquiesces. 

At 8:15pm, Audrey’s phone lights up, notifying her that something has tripped the perimeter alarm.

She quickly unlocks it and holds it up between her and Benny as she presses play on the video.

It’s a car they don’t expect, and in the fading light, it’s too dark to make out who’s inside. 

Benny calmly slides off the hood and opens the Rover, tossing Audrey a rifle and grabbing a pistol for himself before quietly shutting the door. They move in silence to meet behind the truck, staring through the cabin out through the front windscreen, waiting for the car to appear.

It slips calmly into the drive as they both hold guns at the ready. 

Santiago steps out first with a smile on his face. The moment Frankie appears from behind the driver’s seat, Audrey drops her rifle and takes off running.

“Audrey,” Frankie sighs as she collides with his chest, knocking the air from his lungs. He wraps one arm around her back and cups the base of her skull, pressing her tight to him.

“The FUCK took you so long?” Benny booms as he lays his pistol on the hood.

“Stopped for coffee,” Santiago quips, giving Benny a hug and a pat on the back. “Nah, their security detail had car trouble, so we swapped them out so they could move. Frankie fixed this piece of shit up, but it took some time.”

“Gave Benny and I some time to bond,” Audrey moves to give Santi a quick hug now as Benny wraps Frankie in his arms and thumps him on the back.

“That was some real Fast and Furious shit, boys!” Benny whoops.

“Yeah it was,” Frankie returns to Audrey’s side, arm draped around her shoulders.

A smile of pride playing on his mouth.

“Y’all hungry? We’ve got hot dogs,” Benny throws a thumb over his shoulder at the house.

“Fucking starving.” Frankie laughs.

_____

Mirth and liquor flow freely for the rest of the night.

“Okay, so wait, wait. Y’all gave me shit, but Benny doesn’t have a callsign—” Audrey points at the man in question..

“Benny’s callsign is ‘Benny’,” Santi swallows a mouthful of whiskey.

“Sorry, what?”

“Well,” Frankie braces both hands on his thighs with a grin. “This one—this one ti—” but he can’t get it out without dissolving into a fit of laughter. “Benny is ‘Benny’—like Benadryl.”

“Yeah, walk me through that,” she rakes a hand through her curls.

“He got stung by a bee one day, took two Benadryl and slept through an entire training exercise.” Santi is grinning so hard that his face hurts.

“Benadryl can do that, yeah.”

“No. Babe,” Frankie laughs, resting a hand on her shoulder, “he slept through the training exercise WHILE he was out in the field.”

Benny is blushing now.

“He would come to enough to get into a helo, but then he’d fall asleep. Strapped into the seat,” Santiago gestures at his chest through howls of laughter.

“He got out of the bird, got into position on the ground with his rifle like he was about to line up a shot and fell the fuck asleep again,” Frankie wheezes, bracing his hand on Santi’s shoulder as he folds forward in his chair.

And she can’t help but laugh at the sight of Frankie having lost all composure.

“Fucking blanks flying everywhere,” Pope makes a cutting motion with his hand, “my man is OUT COLD.”

“There are pictures,” Frankie wipes at his eyes.

“Yeah, yeah, fuck you,” Benny grumbles, but there’s a smile hiding just behind his lips. “I assume you know about these two idiots.” This to Audrey.

“I do, yeah,” she smiles as she takes a sip of gin.

“You gotta tell me how you got Moose now.”

“Oh,” Santiago reaches into the pocket of his sweatpants for his phone, finding the picture before sliding it over to Benny. “She saved our asses by nailing that shot.”

“Oh, cool.”

Benny isn’t quite impressed.

“Through night vision from a mile away, Benny.” Frankie adds.

His eyebrows shoot up to his hairline now and he holds Santiago’s phone closer to his face.

“Damn, Moose. That’s sick,” he slides the phone back to Santi, “thought it was because of your tattoo.”

“YOU’VE SEEN IT?” Santiago screams.

Benny holds his hands up in front of his chest, “she had a tank top on earlier, I didn’t know it was some kind of secret.”

“It’s not, Benny. Santi just thinks it is,” she winks as one hand idly winds in Frankie’s curls.

“Unbelievable,” Santiago shakes his head.

“I like you, Moose.” Benny holds his glass up in her direction.

She taps the side of hers to his, “I like you too, Benny.”

“You do excellent work,” he swallows a sip, “clean, precise, efficient. Think on your feet. Hell of a shot. You wind this one up,” he points to Santi, “and this one is in love with you,” he gestures towards Frankie. 

And Audrey hides it in the moment, pulling her hand away from Frankie’s hair under the guise of reaching for her glass.

The truth is.

Benny’s just said the last thing she wants to hear.

next

Taglist: @harriedandharassed @missladym1981 @sarcasm-theotherwhitemeat @toomanytookas

If I've missed you, please let me know, and if you'd like to be added, I'm happy to add you!

Old chapters are hosted on the OFFS Library page. New chapters will be posted here at Ohforficsake.

Shoot me a message @ohforficsake or comment under this post if you would like to be added to the taglist for updates! Thanks so much for reading.

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Writing Analysis: Of Mice and Men (Cultural References)

Bindle: A bag, sack, or carrying device.

Bindle Stiff: Hobo; transient who carries his belongings in a sack.

Bunk House: A sleeping quarters intended for use by multiple people.

Talcum Powder: Very similar in texture to baby powder, talcum powder was used mainly after bathing or shaving.

Apple Box: A box used for storage or as a stepstool capable of holding a person's weight.

Scourges: A widespread affliction, an epidemic illness or the consequence of some natural disaster, like fire, flood, or a migration of locusts.

Pants Rabbits: A sexually transmitted disease, known as pubic lice.

Graybacks: The equivalent of ticks or lice.

Liniment: A topical cream for the skin that helps with pain or rashes.

Jerkline Skinner: Lead driver of a team of mules

Stable Buck: A derogatory name for an African-American man who works in the stables.

Stetson Hat: A famous brand of hats, especially cowboy hats.

‍Swamper: A general assistant; handyman.

Murray and Ready: An employment agency, specializing in farm work.

Work Slips: Proof that people had been hired to do a job.

Cultivator: A farming tool used to stir and soften the soil either before or after planting.

Cesspool: A well or pit filled with drainage or sewage.

Slough: A muddy or marshy area.

Tart: A woman who tempts men or who is sexually promiscuous.

Buck Barley: To throw large bags of barley on a truck.

Lynch: To illegally execute a person, generally applied to the hanging and/or burning of African-Americans in the south.

Slug of Whiskey: Equivalent to a hip flask of whiskey.

Gut Ache: A stomach ache.

Airedale: A type of dog, specifically Terrier.

Pulp Magazine: During the 1920s-1950s, inexpensive fiction magazines. From 1950 on, the term also came to represent mass market paperbacks.

Luger: The Luger pistol was an expensive, high maintenance weapon manufactured and used primarily in the German army.

Euchre: A card game played in England, Canada, and some parts of the U.S.

Two Bits: Twenty-Five cents.

Rag Rug: Rugs created from rags that were tied together by knots.

Kewpie Doll: A particular style of doll, one that was usually won at carnivals.

Phonograph: The first device for recording and playing sound, most specifically music.

Parlor House: Could be considered a restaurant, but more often parlor houses were brothels.

Hutches: A form of furniture, very similar to a wardrobe.

Welter: A boxer (refers to welterweight, a weight class in boxing).

Nail keg: A wooden barrel that could usually hold 100 pounds or more inside.

Russian Hill: Affluent residential neighborhood in San Francisco, California.

Travels with a Donkey: Travels with a Donkey in the Cevennes (1879), one of Robert Louis Stevenson's earliest published works.

Varro: Marcus Terentius Varro (116-29 B.C.E.), Roman scholar/author and horticulturist.

Velasquez's Cardinal: Seventeenth-century painting by Spanish painter Diego Rodriguez de Silva y Velazquez.

Zane Grey: American adventure novelist (1872-1939).

Source ⚜ Writing Notes & References

[batboyblog]

The Biden administration on Wednesday issued one of the most significant climate regulations in the nation’s history, a rule designed to ensure that the majority of new passenger cars and light trucks sold in the United States are all-electric or hybrids by 2032.

Cars and other forms of transportation are, together, the largest single source of carbon emissions generated by the United States, pollution that is driving climate change and that helped to make 2023 the hottest year in recorded history. Electric vehicles are central to President Biden’s strategy to confront global warming, which calls for cutting the nation’s emissions in half by the end of this decade. But E.V.s have also become politicized and are becoming an issue in the 2024 presidential campaign.

“Three years ago, I set an ambitious target: that half of all new cars and trucks sold in 2030 would be zero-emission,” said Mr. Biden in a statement. “Together, we’ve made historic progress. Hundreds of new expanded factories across the country. Hundreds of billions in private investment and thousands of good-paying union jobs. And we’ll meet my goal for 2030 and race forward in the years ahead.”

The rule increasingly limits the amount of pollution allowed from tailpipes over time so that, by 2032, more than half the new cars sold in the United States would most likely be zero-emissions vehicles in order for carmakers to meet the standards.

That would avoid more than seven billion tons of carbon dioxide emissions over the next 30 years, according to the E.P.A. That’s the equivalent of removing a year’s worth of all the greenhouse gases generated by the United States, the country that has historically pumped the most carbon dioxide into the atmosphere. The regulation would provide nearly $100 billion in annual net benefits to society, according to the agency, including $13 billion of annual public health benefits thanks to improved air quality.

The standards would also save the average American driver about $6,000 in reduced fuel and maintenance over the life of a vehicle, the E.P.A. estimated.

The auto emissions rule is the most impactful of four major climate regulations from the Biden administration, including restrictions on emissions from power plants, trucks and methane leaks from oil and gas wells. The rules come on top of the 2022 Inflation Reduction Act, the biggest climate law in the nation’s history, which is providing at least $370 billion in federal incentives to support clean energy, including tax credits to buyers of electric vehicles.

The policies are intended to help the country meet Mr. Biden’s target of cutting U.S. greenhouse emissions in half by 2030 and eliminating them by 2050. Climate scientists say all major economies must do the same if the world is to avert the most deadly and costly effects of climate change.

“These standards form what we see as a historic climate grand slam for the Biden administration,” said Manish Bapna, president of the Natural Resources Defense Council Action Fund, a political action committee that aims to advance environmental causes.

Mr. Bapna’s group has calculated that the four regulations, combined with the Inflation Reduction Act, would reduce the nation’s greenhouse emissions 42 percent by 2030, getting the country most of the way to Mr. Biden’s 2030 target.

Get in Losers we're going to save the planet.

[jewishbarbies]

random things I would do if elected president, in no particular order:

ban LED headlights nationwide, no exceptions

make it illegal to donate to a political campaign if yearly income is above 100k

forgive all student debt (college, medical school, law school, etc.)

ban PACs and super PACs

require a special license for pickup trucks of a certain size with a specific drivers test

mandatory yearly drivers tests for people over the age of 55

make it illegal for politicians to use all social media in an official capacity

install a free public railway that connects all major cities in all 50 states

give Hawaii back to indigenous Hawaiians along with a promise of monetary reparations and/or supplies for an agreed upon period of time

give Puerto Rico back to the Puerto Ricans with monetary incentives for american citizens who move back to the states

ban the purchase of single family homes by any corporate entity in all 50 states

create a care program for migrants and refugees with housing, food, and supplies along with free English classes and courses on their preferred job field (with credits applied if enrolling in college plus a more streamlined path to citizenship starting with a work/school visa) paid for by taxes they’re already going to be paying working here anyway

complete overhaul of the american prison system with an implementation of rehab and mental health facilities, community projects, education and job training with no sentence longer than the completion of these courses/treatments unless for high crimes and special cases

bring home economics, culinary, and finance courses to middle and high schools with specialized AP courses for fields like human/veterinary medicine, law, engineering, environmental science, etc.

create a federally funded program for college students who want to become teachers, including specialized classes, free tuition, and sign on bonuses when employed at your first school as a one time tax credit with proof of employment

run federally funded educational tours and classes with volunteer opportunities at all national parks, with $10 general admission at all parks

require cities with a population over 1k to allocate funds/resources for warming stations, homeless and women’s shelters within city limits and maintain them year round

ban all fireworks no exceptions nationwide

mandatory voting in state and federal elections

executive order to make it illegal for politicians to earn more than the average yearly salary in their state/county/district/etc. at all levels of government

mandatory college education requirements for running for political office

anti inflation laws preventing the selling of goods and services for more than double the cost nationwide

make food waste in the agriculture industries illegal with tax credits for donating unsellable but edible food to shelters, churches, charities, and food banks

increase indigenous sovereignty in all 50 states, with regulations to prevent price gauging and predatory sale prices of goods and services to reservations, and increased legal protections for recognized tribes

work with local tribes to create programs delivering food, water, medicine, and supplies to households on reservations that sign up, 1-2 times a month like a food bank

create a federal agency of environmental scientists, biologists, etc. that work with indigenous peoples and maintain/protect land and local ecosystems in all 50 states through any means necessary with cooperation of the indigenous people

create additional tax credits for families, people with disabilities, students of any kind, home buyers, and farmers/agricultural workers

free school lunches in all schools in all 50 states

this is a non exhaustive fantasy list, don’t take it seriously. I’ll probably add more things I think of later.

[redamoureux]

:00 if you could, maybe a yandere! hank x s/o who used to be an A.A.H.W agent? when they meet again, instead of s/o trying to kill them like they’re always have, reluctantly - they just flee?

─ Bad Blood

Yandere Hank J. Wimbleton Headcanons/short

↳ content warning: yandere themes, obsessive behaviour, stalking, shooting, violence, mild blood, murder, forced/dubious relationship, intimidation, hank's oddly kind of a soft yandere here

• genre: romantic

Working in an agency that's literally built to merely hunt one specific criminal is never an easy job. But with little place to work and protection around, you were obliged to accept the policy or you wouldn't get to see another day.

Auditor, the leader of the faction can be described as rather a cruel and vicious boss. Even though you've never met him directly, just by hearing whispers and tittle-tattle around the place never fails to make you falter.

So it doesn't suprises you when news about a massacre occured in one of the many base around the city reached auditor, he simply told his henchman to call up the janitors and clone even more grunts.

You were annoyed by this behaviour of him. Not only did he let his employees work in such poor condition, he also can't respect the values of lives. You thought the idea of this whole ordeal is just pure stupid. And most of the remaining mortal grunts like you also agreed, but your resentments are clearly silent, for the most part.

And the last but not least of your problems, Hank J. Wimbleton. Pratically being the root of the apocalypse happening nevada, he brings troubles or death for basically anyone he comes across. Heck, you were suprised that this man manage to even have a team in the first place.

One day, you were casually just sitting at the passenger seat of the agency's truck delivering supplies to another base that supposedly located not far away.

And the next thing you knew, another smaller vehicle drove right next to you, a hook suddenly emerges from the back of it and flew up above the truck's roof. While you and the driver were momentarily distracted by it, a bullet hits the window and shot the driver. Your startled state turned into panic and you immediately jumped out of your sitting position to grab the steering wheel, trying to control the truck while your leg tries to hit the brake.

Then something hits you on the head, knocking you out thus losing control over the truck and making screeching sound before crashing, almost rolling it over.

While you lay unconsciously on top of the driver's body, the smaller car's wheels halts just feets away from ths truck and two men comes out. The black figure near the broken window stares intensively at the two body before a voice behind him called.

Gaining your concious back by the throbbing pain in your head, you groan lightly before you took a glimpse at your surroundings and heard distant talking just outside the truck. Keeping yourself to shut up from the pain, you took the weapons stocked up under the seats and loaded it. Bracing yourself, you pushed the door open, getting the attentions of the men before you emerged and shot all around them immediately.

Fortunately, you were succesfully able to shot one of the guys and distracting the other, leaving only one familiar face to fight. Hank J. You gulp, wishing you really don't have to deal with him─ but you know your chances. And you're not dying without a fight atleast.

You kept on shooting, but he was be able to miss most of it and so you quickly changed guns when it ran out of bullets, before jumping out and running behind the truck. He followed closely and looked behind the truck, ready to kill, to find noone. A sound of car engine starting up makes his head perk up and he turns around to find the team's car moving forward at him at a fast speed, to which he quickly dodges. You kept speeding up until eventually they goes out of view.

With your heart pumping fast with adrenaline, you looked the rear mirror, seeing your ruined and blood stained form, you took deep breaths and have set one final plan in your mind.

Walking in the empty street, your footsteps clicks against the rocky road as you tinkered around with a broken tablet in your hand in attempt to turn it on. You bit the insides of your cheek as you remixed the wires again and pressed the power button.

Your attempt were proven fruitful when the tablet made a startup sound and the logo flashes up. You smiled at your succesful try as you happily looked at the screen. Suddenly you heard a short scream coming from an alley nearby which you stopped on your tracks.

You looked around to see where the sound may have came from─ when another long scream was heard once again, and this time you were be able to sense that it was coming from one of the alleys behind you. You ran towards the source of sound as a sound of bone cracking and a scream was suddenly heard again which made you hold your breath and lean against one of the closed stores.

You exhale and turn to take a peak, your eyes widen in horror as you gaze landed at the dead bodies on the ground, blood splattered almost everywhere as you saw a strong arm dropping down an ripped off arm. You mind screamed at you to run, and you were about to do so, when you heard pained whimpers. Squinting your eyes slightly, you saw a horribly injured grunt flump on the ground, staring at the tall shadow before them in terror and fear of their life.

You felt a sudden urge to save the grunt as you took out a syringe filled with some muscle relaxant drug and stared at it. You knew this has the high chance of possibly risking your life instead, but you're willing to try. Without a second thought you closed your eyes and sneaked up towards the man quick enough before he finishes off the grunt.

You stabbed the taller grunt with the syringe in the shoulder which made them to turn around and you punched him in the face. He let out a slight groan and buried his eyes in his hands to recover for a moment. You took this chance and helped the stunned grunt to get back up. As you're doing just that, you saw the taller grunt getting back his senses, so you whispered to the grunt you've helped "go!" With no hesitation, they nodded and ran.

Your relief was short-lived before you feel yourself being grabbed by the throat and thrown back harshly into the wall of the dark alley.

Groaning, you slump down the wall, feeling immense pain through your whole body from the impact. You merely looked up fearfully as the shadowy grunt slowly approaches you with shining, cracking red goggles. You swallow the knot in your throat and closed your eyes, preparing for the worst.

But nothing came.

Confused, you looked up and was taken aback with the grunt staring deeply into you, leaning in much closer than before. "Uh.." then all of a sudden, he pulled you up and carried you over his shoulders like a sack of potatoes. You immediately tried to retaliate, kicking your boots and yelling but it was hopeless.

Eventually you gave up, feeling annoyed. You weren't even sure what or where he's planning to do or go, yet you were too tired to think so you eventually slept. Then you were rudely woken up when you were plopped down a hard chair.

You shook your head a little before the view of your surroundings fully came in. A few grunts walks around in what seems like a factory some sort doing their works and a grunt wearing sensor goggles and mask. He's looking at his computer sits infront of you before glancing up at you. "So this is the one that you wanted to recruit?" He questions, you turned to your side to see the grunt from before nodding. Now that you were able to see his full form, now did you realize that it was Hank. Being next to him, you began to sweat.

"Welcome in the team then."

─────

Well, getting recruited and a decent payment with the unexpected help of a criminal certainly is not an everyday thing.

Your now employer, 2BDamned, or doc for short, saw your repaired tablet in your bag and asked if you were able to demonstrate more of your skill. You did. You fixed some machine there that broke down. Which was also the reason how you're landed a job as an engineer in the team.

It was fairly.. normal you could say. The other grunts there were pretty nice to talk to, some would be fearful when seeing you though, and you weren't really sure why. The work condition is definitely better than what in AAHW provided. One small problem though. Hank.

I mean sure, it's expected, hank is hank, doing hank things. But something is just off about how he behaved around you. He would just stand next to you, saying nothing while watching you do work. One time you were rushing to go down the stairs to meet doc but you slipped and fell down. You heard heavy boots approaching fastly and within seconds hank was by your side, offering a hand to you. You took his hand and stood up with a little struggle before thanking him and tried to let go of your hand but he wouldn't budge. So the entire meeting with doc was tad awkward with him just holding your hand.

He also likes to appear out of nowhere. You were just casually shopping at the remaining stable grocery shop in the city when suddenly there was a shadow cast over you and the cashier trembling and sweating looking up behind you. Which would result you to sigh, knowing that it's him.

You weren't sure how to respond to any of this behaviour of his, so you kind of just let it happen. Sometimes he can be pretty creepy sure yet, you're just grateful that he's not suffocating you to death and letting you live a fairly normal life. So the least you could do is tolerate his behaviour. Hoping that it just wouldn't go worse.

REBLOGS AND FEEDBACKS ARE APPRECIATED!

@redamoureux

[handweavers]

"The magnitude of self-descriptors as devised by North American trans men or favourably assigned to trans men by other transgender communities implies a drive for meaningful self-expression that emanates from substantive agency, even if this agency is conditioned, interpreted and curtailed by existing cultural semiotics. In many cases, purposeful self-description lends itself heterogeneously yet effectively to self-empowerment and self-realisation. At the same time, the astounding variety of these appellations and their meanings lay bare the instability, fuidity and evolution of becoming a trans man. A signifcant self-designated name for one trans man ‘may be another’s Gender Trash’. It could hold signifcance only for a specifc period of time before other more compelling labels emerge and take its place. Contrastingly, Malaysian trans men may not necessarily possess the cultural capital, legal and political resources, or religious liberty to engage in similarly diverse pursuits of self-description.

Miriam J. Abelson’s recent study unearths the negotiations of trans men with dominant manifestations of American masculinities such as ‘hypermasculine men, regular guys, progressive men, and faggy men’ as conditioned by issues of ethnicity, class and geographical space. Malaysian trans men also encounter such negotiations, although issues of ethnicity, class and space often do not seem to be at theforefront of their consciousness in such deliberations. Instead, issues of identity, social engagement, dysphoria, transitioning and religion appear to take centre stage in their subjectivities. Admittedly, any denotation of what it means to be a man in Malaysia—or any part of the world—is always a precarious project, given that each man is socialised into, and consequently self-polices and self-defines ‘man’ in accordance with the specifcities of his lived realities. Yet it is possible to locate the political, sociocultural and religious rhetoric that determines and shapes notions of ‘manness’, ‘manhood’, ‘manliness’, ‘maleness’ and ‘masculinity’.

Malaysian studies on men indicate that male masculinities are conditioned by class, ethnic and religious factors. For instance, traits such as crudeness, boisterousness, physical strength and disputatiousness among Malaysian Chinese male truck drivers stand in contrast with the dignity, authority and self-restraint among male truck owners. Moreover, machines fgure largely in cultural interpretations of a technology-driven masculinity among Malaysian Chinese working-class men. Financial stability, job security, good physical health, sexual virility and male-designated genitalia are prized as ‘manly’ traits. Patriarchal practices also serve to corroborate both ethnic, sociocultural and Malay-Muslim dictates of masculinity. Same-sex attractions between men—often erroneously ascribed to trans women—is unanimously condemned as illicit in largely conservative Malaysia, mostly due to the convergence of ethnic (read Malay-Muslim), Islamic and nationalistic ideologies. There is also an uncontested and steadfast belief that masculinity is superior to femininity in Malaysia. These contributory elements of masculinity impact heavily on formations of gender identity among trans men."

— J. N. Goh, Becoming a Malaysian Trans Man

[trailerdriver]

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[forty-lives]

Purity of Arms

This is a painting about Shadia Abu Ghazala School massacre on 13th December last year.

In the UN's Office of the United Nations High Commissioner for Human Rights in Occupied Palestinian Territory, it is said "between 2000 and 2300 hours, IDF reportedly surrounded and raided Al Awda building, also known as the “Annan building”, in Al Remal neighborhood, Gaza City, where three related families were sheltering in addition to Annan family. According to witness accounts circulated by media sources and EuroMed Human Rights Monitor, while in control of the building and the civilians sheltering there, the IDF allegedly separated the men from the women and children, and then shot and killed at least 11 of the men, mostly aged in their late 20’s and early 30’s, in front of their family members. The IDF then allegedly ordered the women and children into a room, and either shot at them or threw a grenade into the room, reportedly seriously injuring some of them, including an infant and a child."

As someone living far away from Gaza Strip, I am aware this is not my story. But I was moved to paint this after coming across Massacre in Korea, a 1951 painting by Picasso. It depicts the scene of what is assumably the No Gun Ri massacre or the Sinchon Massacre. Although Picasso was a Spanish man, he was equally moved by the news of the massacres as anyone and remembered through art.

The title, "Purity of Arms" is derived from The Spirit of the IDF. Under the section, 'Purity of Arms', it says, "An IDF soldier will only exercise their power or use their weapon in order to fulfill their mission and only when necessary. They will maintain their humanity during combat and routine times. The soldier will not use their weapon or power to harm uninvolved civilians and prisoners and will do everything in their power to prevent harm to their lives, bodies, dignity and property."

This is in their Ethical Code Pamphlet which is put into the pocket of every soldiers during their basic training. This blue pamphlet carries 4 fundamental values and 10 additional values, with Purity of Arms being one of the latter. You can see at the bottom left of the painting, this pamphlet is being dropped.

On the green chalkboard, in Arabic, "لماذا لم تدقوا جدران الخزان؟" is written twice. It means "Why didn't you knock on the walls of the tank?" This is a famous line from Men in the Sun by a Palestinian writer, Ghassan Kanafani.

In this novella, three Palestinian men are smuggled to Kuwait by a truck driver in order to look for jobs elsewhere. These men are forced to hide inside the truck's large tank through the desert's various check points. Just before arriving at their destination, the driver is delayed by the officials at the border who probe him about a prostitute named Kawkab. The truck finally passes through the check point after a while, and the driver enters Kuwait. He opens the tank but he only finds the three men's corpses; they have already died from the extreme heat. The driver tosses the bodies into a trash heap. In the final line, he yells: "Why didn't you knock on the sides of the tank? Why didn't you bang the sides of the tank? Why? Why? Why?"

On 6th December, Refaat Alareer, a late Palestinian writer and poet, was surgically bombed in his home by an Israeli airstrike along with his brother, brother's son, sister, and her three children. This came about after weeks of death threats he received. I have read Light In Gaza after this. From the book, I learned that this line "Why didn't you knock on the walls of the tank?" became a popular metaphor in Palestine. As written by Jehad Abusalim, it stands for "reclaiming collective agency, and that the people’s existence, or life, depends on disrupting the unjust status quo through resistance and uprising".

We know today that Palestinians have been knocking on the walls of the tank. We hear them on social media. Although many of us are powerless to stop the Israeli aggression in a single day, but we are powerful enough to hear their knocks and do what we must as our consciences compel.

In Gaza: Stay Human by Vittorio Arrigoni, he wrote, "I want the truth to redeem these dead." If my conscience insists that I paint something for the people in Gaza Strip, then I hope what it does is the same as what Arrigoni wanted through telling the truth.

At the bottom middle of the painting, there is a child whose hands are tied. His hands are dirty. This is a reference to a childhood event Refaat Alareer talks about during an interview with Haymarket Books. Him and his friends were playing soccer in their neighbourhood. Suddenly, Israeli soldiers chased them and they ran into his home. They were forced to stand against a wall and the soldiers checked the children's hands to see if they were dirty. They were trying to see if they threw stones. They were children. Of course their hands were dirty, and their hearts were racing.

In Lights in Gaza, he writes about a similar incident that happened to his 13 year old friend: Lewa "was chased by an Israeli settler who shot him dead from point - blank range in front of his classmates. The Israeli settler did not want to punish Lewa for throwing stones, for Lewa did not throw stones. The settler wanted to teach those who threw stones a lesson, by killing a kid. In front of the eyes of scores of little scared kids going back home from school. And a few meters away from Lewa’s home. His mother’s shrieks still ring in my ears."

In a Haaretz article written in 2020, one Israeli sniper brags on how his pair shot "42 knees in one day", breaking the then "knee record" during the demonstration on May 14th, 2008. This is the continuation of the policy set during the first Intifada, by Yitzhak Rabin’s orders in January 1988. Israeli soldiers were ordered to break the bones of the protesters. This was meant to cripple the Palestinian youths before their growth. There is one famous incident that was captured on camera on February 26th, 1988. In the video, the soldiers are seen beating and breaking the bones of then 17 years old Wael Joudeh and his cousin Osamah for 30 minutes.

In the painting, the child on the right is missing a leg. An older woman below him is shot in the foot and is being bandaged by another woman. These are the results of deliberate attempt at crippling them.

On the right side of the painting, there is a poster with a black olive tree. Images of olive trees are often used to represent 'Sumud', meaning "steadfast perseverance". But it is also used to symbolise Palestinian national identity in general. In the painting, its roots are being shot, signifying the erasure of Palestinian family lines by the army.

In The Drone Eats with Me: Diaries from a City Under Fire by Atef Abu Saif, he writes: "wars stand as markers in a Gazan’s life: there’s one planted firmly in your childhood, one or two more in your adolescence, and so on . . . they toll the passing of time as you grow older like rings in a tree trunk. Sadly, for many Gazans, one of these wars will also mark life’s end. Life is what we have in between these wars."

No more lives should be marked by wars.

[cdldriverrecruiter]

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[overalls4all]

This is Tobias. He is a typical citizen under the Overalls for All Act. Everyday he wakes up, changes into his overalls for the day and take s selfie to send to the Central Overalls Monitoring Agency. The Agency ensures all men are in compliance in the Act. Today Tobias is wearing Carhartt overalls, one of this favorites.

Tobias then watches the morning news broadcast, standing at the appropriate times and reciting the appropriate slogans and oaths. His favorite part is the Overalls Pledge, where he pledges to wear overalls every day and spread the values of hard-work and traditional masculinity to those around him. Before the law, Tobias never thought much of his personal values, but now he was thankful to have a government that told him what values to live by.

Having absorbed the news and reaffirmed his loyalty, Tobias leaves for work. On the way he glaldy greets his neighbors, fellow working men in overalls. His friend Tom is wearing Dickies overalls and Kevin is wearing Liberty overalls. Tobias is grateful for the freedom to wear overalls of his choosing, while still sharing a uniform with his fellow men.

Tobias arrives at work. Today he has some deliveries to make. Tobias used to be a writer, but such jobs were deemed "insufficiently masculine". Now Tobias is a delivery truck driver. The occasional heavy lifting fulfills the "manual labor" requirement, so long as Tobias spends his weekends working at a local farm. Tobias missed his old job at first, but after seeing so many social media posts and news reports on the importance of manual labor for men, he came around. He was glad he kept himself informed!

He enters the elevator on his way to drop off a package. Suddenly he has an urge to take a picture of himself carrying the packages. The view of himself in overalls carrying something heavy fills him with masculine pride. Tobias never considered himself very masculine before the law, but it was such a trend to post "manly" pics of oneself online. He posted the pic on social media and immediately got some comments from other men in overalls:

"Looking like a real man!"

"Those overalls are so cool! Overalls for All!"

"Proud to see my little bro in overalls. Dad would be proud, Tobias!"

Tobias arrives at the door of his delivery. He knocks and the door is answered by a young man, about Tobias' age, wearing the same pair of Carhartt overalls. The two men chuckle and tug at their overalls straps.

"Overalls for All!" says the young man.

Tobias smiles and with a second thought responds, "Overalls for All!"

The slogan was second nature to men like Tobias, who obediently followed the new law. Tobias had been apprehensive about the law, but was never the kind to stand up to authority. Turns out that submissive quality fits in perfectly in this "new normal". Tobias is happy now. He never expected to feel so empowered by those three simple words: Overalls for All!

[thethistlegirlwrites]

Liars

The truck’s engine roars, sand flies from under the tires, and the rope behind it snaps taut.

Sierra raises her rifle to her shoulder, but it’s much too late.

The heavy plywood silhouette slams into her, knocking her backward into the sand.

“Too slow,” A voice as rough as the gravel under her snaps. “This isn’t poppin’ coyotes in the backyard anymore.” 

Sierra sighs. “Point made.” The cardboard prop she was using to simulate a rifle is now a crumpled mass in the dust next to her hand. A similar stake is resting next to it. Neither of them had reached a deadly position before she was bowled over on her ass.

Every new recruit, she’s told, is put through the same test. 

Choose a weapon. Face down the silhouette vampire on its track, pulled by the pickup that simulates the speed at which they might be facing down a rush attack.

And see whether they’d live or die.

Sierra’s first two choices of weapon were no good. And she’s never shot a handgun in her life. Picking that would have been suicide.

“Now do you see why the rules of engagement are bullshit?” 

Sierra pushes herself to her feet. “Because I’m standing out in the open in the middle of a track where even if I did get my finger on the trigger or my stake in position, my spotter would never see it in time to tell the driver, and even if the driver put the brakes on right then, I’d still get bowled over by the momentum?”

Weaver, her de facto instructor, gives her an approving, if frowning, nod.

“You’re pretty sharp, kid.” 

“I grew up with street racers. I’ve been driving with them since I was tall enough to reach the pedals. I know when something is designed with the sole intent of frustrating and pissing off the newcomers.” 

She’s not stupid.

She is angry.

But not because of this rigged training exercise.

“When is someone going to tell me what I actually came here to learn?” 

“When you’re ready to do something about it.” 

Weaver’s giving her an odd look. There’s something no one in this compound is telling her. When she told them about the journal and the date of the last entry, it was like she’d dropped a match in gasoline. 

Someone knows something about her dad’s death. And it’s something big. She has no intentions of waiting patiently for it, but these people don’t keep records of any kind. Whatever they know, it’s locked up in someone’s brain.

Weaver’s in on the secret, from the way he’s been watching her. 

“You promised you’d ask around. Said someone here ought to know something. I just want some answers about the vampire who killed my father.”

“That. Not who.”

Sierra nods. “The vampire that killed my father.”

“Right there is why you’re not ready.” Weaver leads her over to a table full of weapons. “You still don’t see those things for the monsters they are.”

“My dad is dead because of them. I think I understand just fine.”

“You ever killed something wearing a human face before?” Weaver asks. 

Sierra shakes her head.

“I did. Used to work for those spineless shills that call themselves hunters. But I learned real fast we were losing too many people because we weren’t fighting these things on their own terms.” Weaver picks up a silver-loaded shell and flips it through his fingers. “What don’t you see on this table?”

Stakes. Knives.

“Close combat weapons.”

Weaver nods appreciatively, again with that unreadable look. 

“Forget everything you've seen or heard about fighting these things. Stakes just finish the job and make sure they stay down, but that's never going to be your first strike. The vampire is an ambush predator. Ambush is the only way to hunt them back.” He picks up a modified rifle. “If they see you first, you’re as good as dead. But no one at the agencies understood that. Waved that baseless treaty in my face when I tried to make them see reason. It’s a sham. Can’t make an agreement with something that ain’t even human. Or alive. It’s as stupid as making a treaty with a damn virus.” 

Sierra can’t argue with that. 

She picks up a rifle of her own. Lighter, leaner than Weaver’s, but with the same complex night-vision scope bolted to the top of the barrel. “Did you know my dad?”

“Knew a lot of hunters. That journal wasn’t exactly a gold mine of clues.”

Sierra already knows that. The most she could gather was that her father had worked for some sort of vampire hunter organization in Amarillo. He hadn’t mentioned names, aside from his sibling and teammate John, but that name is a dime a dozen. Mostly, the journal was a scattering of clumsy poetry, random musings and observations on life, and first drafts of what appeared to be press responses to vampire incidents that must have been big enough to hit local news. Cover stories to keep people from learning the truth.

Maybe it’s inevitable, once you get wrapped up in this shadow world, to tell lies and obscure the realities. 

Because Weaver, and half the people here, are lying to her. 

Telling her they’ll ask around to see if anyone knows something. That she’ll get answers when she earns them. While dragging her around on a short leash because for some reason, they want to hang onto her. 

Maybe it’s just because if she went lone wolf, she’d get in the way of their own operations. It’s probably good tactical sense to keep all the vigilante vampire slaying in the area under one umbrella. 

She doesn’t believe that’s all it is, not for one second. 

But this is still the most likely place for her to find the answers she needs. She’s hit dead ends everywhere else. So for as long as it takes to get the truth out of someone, she’ll stick it out here.

Even if it means putting up with their heavy-handed training tactics.

No matter how many vampires she needs to kill before she gets to the one she really wants.

She highly doubts she’ll just happen across her father’s killer. In fact, he might be long gone by now. But maybe she can stop someone else from sharing her dad’s fate. She might as well be doing this as spending another night trying to drown the knowledge she can’t just box away again with adrenaline and alcohol. With the pedal to the metal on an empty street or a stranger’s hands tangling into her hair. 

And unlike her racing, it’s not even illegal.

Or at least, she doesn’t think it is. It can’t be murder if the thing you’re supposedly killing isn’t even alive in the first place. 

“Remember, those parasites will show no mercy, so don’t feel bad pulling the trigger.” Weaver adjusts Sierra’s grip on the rifle so her finger rests along the guard, then nods toward the practice range where a set of printed targets with comically exaggerated fangs are set up against bales. “They ain’t human, after all.”

(You can read this story and more from this universe on my WorldAnvil here!)

@catwingsathena @nade2308 @the-one-and-only-valkyrie @telltaleclerk @ettawritesnstudies  @writeouswriter 

[conradscrime]

The Disappearance of Jeffrey Andrew Dupres

July 6, 2023

On April 24, 1980, a 3 year old boy named Jeffrey Andrew Dupres and his mother, Denise, were outside their home in Slave Lake, Alberta, Canada. Just before 1 pm that day, Jeffrey told his mother he was going to play with his next door neighbour, a 5 year old named Rodney. 

Denise went inside and switched over her laundry, the window was opened. A few minutes later Denise heard Rodney’s dad calling out for him to come inside. At this point Denise looked out the window and did not see Rodney or Jeffrey. Denise believed that Jeffrey had gone inside Rodney’s house with him. 

About 20 minutes went by when Rodney showed up at Denise’s door asking for Jeffrey. Realizing he was missing, Denise immediately called the police at 1:45 pm. The police actually told Denise they were too busy and suggested she continue to look for her son with neighbours. 

At 2:20 pm, Denise called police again. It took them over an hour to get to her house. There were hundreds of volunteers that showed up to look for little Jeffrey, with the news of his disappearance spreading quickly. Jeffrey’s father, who had been working away, Ray, came home and the two parents searched for their son for the rest of the night. 

On April 25, 1980, the search continued. Teachers and 200 students from high school helped searched, and throughout the day many of the same locations had been checked multiple times with no luck. 

The community really came together to search for the little boy, taking it extremely seriously. One man even quit his job supposedly when he was told he would not be allowed to have time off to help search. 

Denise had asked authorities multiple times if they could get the Armed Forces Search and Rescue to come help look for her son, however they ignored her pleas, and the Armed Forces did not show up for almost a week. 

Soon enough, a witness came forward and her and her two kids who also witnessed the abduction were flown into Edmonton and hypnotized. 

Supposedly the woman who kidnapped Jeffrey was an “attractive female in her mid-20′s.” She was about 5′2 feet tall, 110 pounds with shoulder length brown hair. The truck she was riding in was a 1978-1980 custom painted Chevy/GMC short box pickup with chrome bumpers and wheels. The driver of the truck was a male in his early 30′s who was clean shaven, with short reddish-blonde hair. 

Both of Jeffrey’s abductors were described as “relatively small.” Apparently this woman was seen trying to get Jeffrey to go towards the truck. When Jeffrey got close enough she grabbed him and the truck drove off. 

Despite there being a witness who came forward, Denise herself was accused of murdering Jeffrey in the summer of 1980. They asked her to do a lie detector test. 

In 1986, an investigator stated that he had a gut feeling Jeffery was still alive. The same year, the national missing children’s database was developed and Jeffrey’s case was compared to 100 other missing children. There was never any “tell-tale” similarities according to investigators. 

If the woman and the man who abducted Jeffrey were alive today, the woman would be in her 60′s and the man in his 70′s. If Jeffrey was alive today he would be 46 years old. 

It has been over 43 years since Jeffrey Dupres was abducted and there is no further information on his case. 

Tips can be sent to Slave Lake RCMP by calling 780-849-399. An independent tip line has been set up by Recover Agency offering a $5,000 reward for information leading to Jeffrey’s whereabouts.

Source: CanadaUnsolved