Around The World In 80 Babes: Chapter 32 – Death In The Family

Around the World in 80 Babes

by: TRL

Chapter 32: Death in the Family

Disclaimer: The following is a work of fiction. It’s
meant to be taken that way, so please see it as such.
Additionally, the following piece of work contains
significant amounts of violence, not all of which is
suitable for younger children. Let your kids go read a
sex story that expouses the joy of the naked female
body – this story is a bit too bloody for the
young’uns. Oh, yeah, don’t read if you’re opposed to
sex (Even though without sex, you wouldn’t be here.
Deal with THAT conundrum, anti-sex freaks!) Everyone
else, Enjoy!!!


June 29th, 2005

Radison Hotel

Mexico City, Mexico

As midnight broke over Mexico City, a coat of sweat washed over Marissa Call’s naked body. The hand inside her crotch was expert in it’s touch. The fingers slid over Marissa’s clit like flowing silk. Lips caressed her nipples like rose petals. Gentle caresses washed over every warm, aroused spot on Marissa’s body.

As one night stands went, this one was one of Marissa’s better ones. Her partner for the evening, the beautiful Salma Hayek, was treating her like a treasured lover, instead of a whore like many of Marissa’s past clients. Marissa wasn’t sure exactly how Salma had known about her, though she got the impression the actress had learned of her through one of Marissa’s other celebrity clients. Quite frankly, Marissa was impressed with how her name was getting around in the secret lesbian community in Hollywood.

Still, she was here to do a job, and it was a job she was thoroughly enjoying.

From what Marissa had been able to get out of her, Salma had experimented with lesbian sex years ago, but had all but given it up until she’d done her movie “Frida.” During that movie, because of the character’s bisexuality, Salma had come to embrace her own desires for female flesh. When she’d spotted Marissa and recognized her from what she’d been told by another of the secret lesbians, Salma had all but demanded Marissa’s body for a night. Offering fifteen thousand in Euros, Salma knew how to get Marissa’s attention. Had the actress known she would be staring in one of Richard Stall’s secret sex tapes, she might not have pressed to hard to have the young blonde in her bed. But Marissa wasn’t going to tell her that.

Salma had barely said a word since the two had gotten into bed, but she’d communicated expertly with her hands. Marissa’s entire body seemed to shiver with a hefty buzz. Pleasure seemed to radiate out of every pour in her body.

Salma muttered something in Spanish into Marissa’s ear, and before the young blonde knew it, she was rolled over onto her stomach. Salma’s strong hands were suddenly on Marissa’s ass, kneading the flesh and sweat playfully.

Then, suddenly, Salma shoved a finger up Marissa’s ass. The blonde American gasped, but had taken enough object up her ass in the past not to feel any pain. Salma seemed to delight in this, and really started working the 19-year-old over, adding an additional finger, and whispering more Spanish in Marissa’s ear. Marissa didn’t know what she was saying, but she imagined it was dirty and loved it.

As far as she was concerned, this was some of the best sex she’d had since she’d joined up with Richard Stall and his crazy scheme to videotape celebrities having sex.

* * *

June 29th, 2005

The de la Graza Hacienda

Just North of Saltillo, Mexico

As Midnight broke over the de la Graza Hacienda, a coat of sweat and blood washed over Michael Burke’s body, followed by a nasty spike in pain in his back. The hand grinding itself into his shoulder belonged to a man larger than Burke by a significant margin. Though Burke didn’t know his name, he knew the man to be a professional killer and nearly impossibly to beat in a fist fight.

Burke now also knew the man to be gay, with a nasty tendency to beat his lovers while fucking the. Burke had learned this the hard way – literally. The man had just raped and beat Burke to within an inch of his life.

“There,” the large man said, getting off Burke and wiping at the blood coating his lower stomach. “Now you know what sex with a real man is like.”

“Go to hell,” Burke croaked, and then coughed up some blood. He’d be shocked if he didn’t have a broken rib or two now.

“Now, now,” the man said, shoving Burke’s head down into the pillow roughly. “Is that any way to talk to the last person you’ll even have sex with?”

“You fag,” Burke muttered.

The large man leaned in close, murder glinting in his eyes. “Don’t forget – you’re a fag now, too.” With that, he punched Burke hard in the head.

* * *

June 29th, 2005

Radison Hotel

Mexico City, Mexico

“Harder! Harder!” Salma Hayek moaned as Marissa, now on top, rammed a whole fist into the actress’ pussy, driving the busty woman crazy.

“Damn, Marissa, can you make a woman moan or what?” The voice inside Marissa’s ear belonged to Tomas Lambert, Stall’s computer expert who’d designed the camera system Marissa was wearing, had a tendency to watch the tapes as they were being recorded. He also had a habit of commenting on what he saw.

“Man, if you get half as nasty while you’re in bed with Burke, that man is luckier than any guy I’ve ever met,” Lambert muttered.

Marissa ignored him and kept stroking away at Salma, bringing an earth-shattering orgasm to the lusty latin actress, but not stopping.

Suddenly, Lambert was very quiet. Marissa thought it odd for a moment or two, but then Salma reached up and grabbed her blonde lover by the tits, and pulled her down atop of her. Soon, Marissa wasn’t thinking about Lambert at all.

* * *

June 29th, 2005

The de la Graza Hacienda

Just North of Saltillo, Mexico

Richard Stall frowned as he looked out across the brightly lit courtyard of the de la Graza Hacienda. A large birthday party for Alana de la Graza was well underway, but Stall was having a hard time enjoying any of it. He and his traveling companions had been stuck here in Mexico for a while now, and they had to smuggle young Alana de la Graza out of the country in the morning, lest they suffer the wrath of her father, Garcia de la Graza.

“You are not having fun, Mr. Stall?” Garcia de la Graza asked as he came up behind Stall.

“You’ll excuse me if I say no,” Stall said. “It’s getting late, after all, and I have a long couple of days ahead of me.”

“You surprise me, Mr. Stall – I would’ve thought you the type of man who could sleep on a plane,” de la Graza said.

“I most certainly can,” Stall said. “I just prefer not to.”

De la Graza smiled politely. “If you’d care to go to bed, I assure you my daughter will not be insulted.”

Stall smiled. “I think perhaps I will, then. I’ll see you in the morning, Mr. De la Graza.”

“Indeed you will, Mr. Stall,” de la Graza replied. “Indeed you will.”

Stall turned around and headed towards the stairs, passing a young woman in a rather revealing maid’s outfit. Ignoring her, Stall began to wish it was morning already – the sooner he and his people left, the sooner they would be in England. At least there, Stall could begin to take control over his life again.

Suddenly, there was a loud screech in his ear, causing Stall to flinch.
“Boss! Boss!” Lambert’s voice screamed through Stall’s head. “They’ve got Burke! They’re killing him!”

“What?” Stall said aloud, clutching his ear, half in pain, and half to hear Lambert better.

“Mr. Stall?” the young woman in the maid’s outfit asked, coming up next to him.

“The same guy who busted into the house in Miami!” Lambert said. “He’s killing Burke right now!”

“Where is he?” Stall demanded. The woman was getting close now, only a foot or two away from where Stall was standing.

“In the room! Hurry, Boss. Hurry!”

“De la Graza!” Stall screamed, brushing past the girl and running back out towards the party.

The drug lord met him at the opening. “What is it, Stall?” de la Graza asked. The man must have been used to troubled screams, because he already had one of his glocks out, and three of his guards were next to him, weapons drawn.

“Someone’s killing my driver,” Stall said angrily. “Right in my own room!”

De la Graza looked at Stall for the briefest of moments, then started spouting orders in Spanish. Suddenly, the whole compound was alive.

“Let’s go,” de la Graza said, handing a pistol to Stall.

* * *

Raven had been six inches away from Stall, a small knife in hand, when the damned Englishman had gone screaming for help. That could only mean one thing – Crow had either been caught or seen. The jig was up.

Running around a corner, Raven ran head first into two of de la Graza’s guards. Swiftly, she brought the knife up and slashed the throat of the first guard, then jabbed her hand into the throat of the second one. Both dropped dead before they knew what hit them.

“Crow?” she muttered into her radio, breaking the precious radio silence they needed up to this point. “Crow, where the hell are you?”

* * *

The knife cut into Burke’s left hamstring slowly, burning every nerve in his leg as it went. Burke screamed aloud, his throat aching in pain.

“Scream all you want,” Crow said, smiling down at the naked man before him. His lust for sex satiated now, his lust for blood had taken over. The tiny knife he carried with him had already placed a series of cuts along Burke’s back and his ass. Now, the larger knife Crow usually kept on the small of his back served as the perfect torture device.

Had Crow been paying a little more attention, he might have heard Raven’s warning. Instead, her radio call came in just as Crow pulled the knife out of Burke, eliciting another scream.

* * *

Stall and de la Graza ran around the corner just in time to see Raven pick up the Uzi dropped by one of the two guards she’d killed. Spotting them coming around the corner, the young woman let loose a burst of fire that very nearly took the heads off. Only the quick thinking of one of de la Graza’s guards saved the two millionaires when he drove them to the ground by leaping on them.

“Damn you Stall!” The woman cried out, firing off another burst before running up the stairs.

“Friend of yours?” de la Graza asked.

“I thought she was your maid,” Stall shot back.

* * *

There was no time left to wait. As she ran up the stairs, checking over her shoulder repeatedly to make sure no one was going to shoot her in the back, Raven pulled out the detonator for the explosives she’d placed around the compound. She’d placed them with the intent of using them to make their escape after they’d succeeded in killing Stall. Now, however, they’d have to be used early.

She thumbed the button, and braced herself.

The entire building shook, despite the fact that most of the explosives were arrayed outside, many quite a distance from the building. Most of Raven’s targets had been the jeeps de la Graza’s men used to patrol the compound. Out of the fifteen he had, only four survived the initial carnage. The fact that three of the booby-trapped jeeps were parked near de la Graza’s fuel tanks made the blast that much more powerful.

The jeeps hadn’t been her only targets, though. All the elevators in the compound went at the same time, three of them crashing down to the bottom floor. One happened to be holding six of de la Graza’s men, and five of them were lucky enough to die in the explosions. The sixth died when the elevator crashed four stories down in a heaping, smoking wreck. Even the hydraulic lift went at the same time, though it got welded closed at the top of it’s run, making it unusable. No one would notice this until days later, when the fire-ruined barn would finally be accessible due to the fuel tank fire.

Outside, de la Graza’s prized anti-aircraft gun blew at the same time, setting fire to the small collection of dry trees nearby. By the time morning would come, all the brush around de la Graza’s Hacienda would be gone, consumed by the quick moving fire. Five Mexican firefighters would lose their lives fighting the blaze before it could reach Saltillo, though the town itself wouldn’t see any damage.

Finally, smaller explosives planted around the compound would damage walls and spread shrapnel about like the party favors de la Graza’s guests had been playing with earlier. Several dozen people died in those small blasts, mostly de la Graza guards, though several party guests were injured and killed at the same time.

In one quick flick, Raven had decimated Garcia de la Graza’s most important facility in his drug empire. And she and Crow hadn’t even gotten out yet.

* * *

Crow had been just about to slice Michael Burke’s dick off when the building shook. He blinked hard, as if coming out of a waking dream, and leapt off the bed, reaching for his radio. It slipped in his hands, which were soaked in Burke’s blood, but managed to get a hold of the device before he dropped it.

“Raven, what the fuck is going on out there?”

“You idiot, your cover’s blown!” Raven’s voice came over. Suddenly, the door to the room burst open, and Crow’s partner in crime came rushing in, holding an Uzi and a bloody knife.

“My cover was blown?” Crow said. “You’re the one who set off the explosives!”

“To cover your ass!” Raven shot back. “Somehow, Stall learned you were slicing up his driver!”

Crow shot a look over at Burke, who actually smiled through the pain at the assassin.

“We’ve got cameras everywhere,” Burke grunted.

Crow roared and shoved his knife deep into Burke’s stomach, eliciting one final scream from the other man.

“You have got to learn to keep your pants on when we’re on assignments,” Raven muttered, handing Crow the Uzi.

“Now what?” Crow asked.

“Now we get out,” Raven said, heading towards the balcony. Looking out, she could see the entire compound on fire, the barn almost completely ablaze. De la Graza’s men were running about like crazy, most of them either getting guests out or trying to fight the fires.

“You certainly know how to make a distraction,” Crow said, coming over and looking over the balcony’s railing. “We’re only one story up here. We can jump.”

Raven was already lifting her leg over the railing. “What are we waiting for?”

Suddenly, the door to the room flung open. Two of de la Graza’s men came flying in, guns firing. Crow mowed them both down as Raven dropped to the ground below. Crow followed her over the rail. The last thing he saw in the room was de la Graza himself entering the room, Richard Stall right behind him.

Clearly, Stall was going to survive another night.

Crow hit the ground running. At least he’d killed that annoying little driver of Stall’s. And he’d gotten a good little fuck in at the same time. Maybe next time, he’d get to do the same to Stall himself.

* * *

“MICHAEL!” Stall screamed as he raced to the blood soaked bed. Burke’s dark skin was so coated in his own blood that he looked like he’d bathed in red paint. Nasty cuts on his arms and legs bled eagerly, and the nasty knife that had done most of the damage was still sticking out of his stomach.

“Boss?” Burke croaked.

“Get a doctor!” Stall screamed at de la Graza.

“You must be kidding,” de la Graza said. “There’s no way he’ll survive.”

Stall shoved the gun in his hands into de la Graza’s stomach. His voice as cold as ice, he repeated his request. “Get a doctor. Now.”

“There are others who are wounded-” the Drug lord protested.

Stall very nearly pulled the trigger. “Get. A. Doctor,” he said again, his rage evident in his eyes. De la Graza took one last look at Stall, then nodded towards a guard, who was quickly on a cellphone.

“Michael,” Stall said, leaping back onto the bed, his legs instantly getting cover in blood. “Michael, can you hear me?”

“B-boss?” Burke gasped again. His voice was quiet – almost too quiet. Stall could barely hear him over the roar of commotion outside.

“Hang on, Michael,” Stall said, putting his hands on one of the worse wounds, trying the staunch the flow of blood, despite the fact that Burke was bleeding from fifteen other places.

“Marissa,” Burke moaned. “Marissa.”

“She’s safe,” Lambert’s voice was suddenly in Stall’s ears.

“She’s fine,” Stall told Burke.

“Tell her-” Burke started to say before he started coughing up blood.

“She doesn’t know,” Lambert said in Stall’s ear. “Hell, she’s still in bed with Salma Hayek!”

“We’ll send for her at once,” Stall said, turning towards de la Graza.

“No!” Burke said between coughs. “D-don’t let her see me like this.”

“You’re going to be fine,” Stall said. “Where the hell is that doctor?!”

“You are very lucky, Mr. Stall,” de la Graza said at once. “Three of my guests were doctors, and all three survived this attack. One is on his way up now.”

“Tell him to hurry!” Stall screamed. Suddenly, Burke started coughing up more blood.

“Hang on, Michael, hang on!” Stall said.

“Tell her,” Burke said again, a steam of blood coming out the corner of him mouth. “Tell her I-”

“What?” de la Graza said suddenly. “WHAT?” the Drug Lord screamed into his cellphone. Stall turned towards the other man just in time to see him look up. “This is all your fault, Richard Stall. All your fault!” He turned towards his guards. “Show the doctor in, but do not let them leave. They have much to answer for.” With that, de la Graza left the room, rushing past the doctor on the way in.

“The doctor’s here,” Stall said to Burke.

“Tell Marissa,” Burke croaked, his eyes rolling about, clearly losing focus. “Tell Marissa I love her.”

“Out of the way,” the Doctor said, pushing Stall to the side.

“Tell her!” Burke moaned.

“I will,” Stall said.

“I need bandages,” the Doctor said to someone. Stall never knew who. One of the guards pulled him back and away from the bed. The last thing he saw there was Michael Burke’s eyes closing.

* * *

June 30th, 2005

The de la Graza Hacienda

Just North of Saltillo, Mexico

Richard Stall frowned as he looked out across the sunlit courtyard of the de la Graza Hacienda. He stood next to a clearly shaken Marissa Call, how still wore the flimsy dress and coat she’d worn to her rendezvous with Salma Hayek two days earlier. Her eyes were red, and while Stall knew she’d slept, he guessed that she’d gotten very little rest.

“I should shoot you where you stand,” de la Graza said bitterly at Stall. The drug lord’s men surrounded the two guests, each armed and ready to do whatever de la Graza told them to do.

“I’m sorry for your loss, Mr. De la Graza,” Stall said, though he spoke automatically, without thinking.

“As you have said many times already,” de la Graza said, pounding on the table he sat at. “Because these men came for you, my daughter – my beautiful Elana – is dead! Because of you, I have lost the brightest joy in my life! My blood!”

Marissa flinched at the mention of blood.”

“Believe me, I wish it hadn’t happened,” Stall said. Elana de la Graza had died when shrapnel from one of the explosions had sliced through her throat, killing her almost instantly. Both Raven and Crow had escaped – again – and there was no trace of them to be found, outside of the massive destruction they’d caused. Stall knew they’d see the two assassins again.

“I should kill you, right now,” de la Graza raged. “I should shoot you right here, right now.”

“If you’re going to, I wish you’d do so soon. Otherwise, I have business to attend to,” Stall said.

De la Graza stared at him for a long moment. “Yes. Yes, you do have business, don’t you, Mr. Stall. And I can only assume that it is your business that brings these people after you. They meant to kill you, Mr. Stall. Why?”

“If I knew that, you can be sure I’d correct the issue,” Stall said.

“You will correct the issue, Mr. Stall,” de la Graza said. “You will correct the issue, or your friend Pedro Alomar will lose his coffee business. You will correct the issue, or your shipping company will be fingered for drug smuggling. You will correct the issue, or you will have to start hiding from my people as well as those who came here two days ago. Is that clear, Mr. Stall.”

“Perfectly,” Stall said, his voice almost as ice cold as it was when he’d demanded a doctor of Burke. That seemed like two or three lifetimes ago.

“There has been a death in my family, Mr. Stall, and that requires payment in blood. You will hire new security when you return to England, yes?”

“Yes.”

“Then I expect them to keep me informed. When these killers come for you again, they will either kill you, or they will die. I demand their blood for the blood of mine that was lost, Mr. Stall. You will either kill them, or help me find them so I may kill them. Am I clear.”

“Perfectly.”

“Then leave. Take your little girl here, and your driver, and get off my property. I will be in touch, Mr. Stall. You haven’t heard the last of Garcia de la Graza.”

“Nor have you heard the last of me,” Stall said quietly. He took Marissa by the arm and left the courtyard. They walked silently to the large car waiting for them – no fancy, souped up racer this time. Now it was a large SUV, complete with tinted windows and two armed guards. Stall still didn’t feel safe.

He got in the car and instantly looked back over into the rear of the vehicle, where Michael Burke lay on a cot.

“I’m sorry, Michael,” Stall said silently.

“Don’t be,” Burke’s voice came back softly. “I knew the risks when I signed on to this job.”

“But your legs…” When Crow had shoved that last knife into Burke’s stomach, he’d grazed the spine – combined with the damage already done, and Burke’s legs were little more than jelly. Stall wanted proper British doctors to look at them, but there was little hope.

“Don’t believe them, boss,” Burke said. “I’ll walk again. Just give me time.”

“And I’ll be there to help you,” Marissa said, reaching over and patting Burke’s shoulder.

“I know,” Burke said, smiling slightly. “I know.”

“Driver,” Stall said, turning back towards the front. “Get us to the airport. It’s time we left Mexico for good.”

“I love you,” Marissa whispered to Burke.

“I love you, too,” Burke said before drifting off to sleep. The SUV pulled out and took off down the road, carrying the three travelers away from the de la Graza Hacienda. For a moment, Stall felt like he was driving away from the horrors he’d seen there. But he knew better. The assassins would be back, no doubt sooner rather than later. Going home to England was almost like sending up a white flag. There would be no hiding there. Death would come looking for Richard Stall again.

And when it did, Stall had the awful feeling it would be far more successful than it had been here in Mexico.

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