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Chapter 6 – The Calais Nuke Convoy
🌄 Dawn – Calais, Northern France
The Omega nuclear convoy rumbled towards the German border under grey pre-dawn skies. Four armoured MAN trucks carried stolen Pakistani tactical nukes, escorted by Humvees with mounted M2 Brownings.
Salty’s team watched from an overpass, mist swirling around their parked armoured Audi Q7.
🪖 Briefing
Salty studied the convoy through thermal optics.
“Funji, Ye Olde Large Lad, and Winky – prepare breach. WhizzAir, eyes in the sky. Aishling, Sarah – get in close. Seduce the Pakistani physicist. We need his arming codes.”
Aishling adjusted her tight black tactical catsuit, cleavage pushed up so far that Sarah giggled softly.
“God Ash, those things are weapons of mass distraction,” Sarah teased.
Aishling smirked, flicking her long blonde hair. “Jealous, love?”
Sarah grinned, unzipping her tactical top just enough to reveal her own deep cleavage. “Let’s double up.”
💋 The Seduction Mission
The two women approached the convoy disguised as local prostitutes, stumbling towards the parked Humvees in high heels and rain-slick mini dresses. Guards raised weapons warily before Aishling pouted sweetly.
“Oh please boys… it’s so cold out here…”
The men exchanged grins. Sarah pressed up against Aishling, their chests squeezing together under their thin dresses.
“We just need some warmth…” Sarah purred.
They were ushered into the rear truck, where Dr. Aziz Ahmed, a balding Pakistani nuclear physicist with thick glasses, was inputting launch codes on a rugged laptop.
He looked up, startled by their sudden arrival.
“What is this?! Who are you—”
Aishling sashayed forward, cleavage inches from his face.
“Shhh, doctor… you work too hard,” she whispered, running her fingers down his chest.
Sarah moved behind him, gently massaging his shoulders. He shivered under their touch.
“Give us your codes,” Aishling cooed softly, drawing her wrist garotte up under his chin.
Sarah kissed his ear. “Or we make this really… uncomfortable.”
Sweating profusely, the doctor tapped in the codes tremblingly. Sarah copied them to her wrist device before plunging a hidden blade into his kidney. He gasped, eyes wide, before slumping forward onto his laptop, lifeless.
“God he stank of old curry and cigarettes,” Sarah muttered, wiping blood off her cleavage.
Aishling giggled darkly. “At least he died happy.”
🔫 Funji’s Silent Strike
At the lead truck, Funji materialised from the mist, tanto blades slicing two guards’ throats in a single elegant whirl. He planted thermite charges on the truck engine before fading back into the shadows.
💣 Ye Olde Large Lad’s Rampage
Ye Olde Large Lad leapt off the overpass onto an Omega Humvee, crushing its roof under his bulk. He ripped the gunner out and snapped his neck like a twig before spraying the convoy with his SAW.
“COME ON YA FRENCH FANCIES!” he bellowed. “WHO WANTS A PROPER SCRAP?!”
⚡ WhizzAir’s Drone Strike
From the Q7, WhizzAir launched two micro drones carrying anti-tank grenades. They swooped under the last two trucks, magnetic clamps attaching to the chassis before detonating in brilliant orange fireballs.
“Boom boom, convoy go bye-bye!” he sang cheerfully.
❤️ Extraction
Sarah and Aishling ran back towards the overpass, heels clacking on wet concrete. Bullets sparked around them as Omega mercs tried to regroup. Funji covered them silently, his suppressed G36C barking disciplined three-round bursts.
Salty grabbed Sarah by the waist as she leapt into the Q7, kissing her deeply.
“Good work, love,” he grunted.
Aishling slid in beside her, cleavage bouncing as she strapped herself in. “God I love this job.”
Ye Olde Large Lad lumbered in last, spattered with blood, dragging his sledgehammer. “Did I miss the orgy or what?”
Winky cackled as he floored the Q7 away from the burning convoy, Omega Humvees exploding behind them in raging infernos.
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