Nadine
By Littlesilverstar, silverstar222b@yahoo.com
One girl vs. 20 male thugs. Guess who wins?  Hint: Not the 20 .


Nadine hung by her arms from the ceiling, the rope knotted firmly around her
slender wrists. She swayed slightly back and forth, back and forth. Waiting.
Captured and alone, with no way to call for help. But she did not let the fear
take control. She was a survivor. Always had been, always would be.

She was twenty-three years old and an investigative reporter. She had driven
out alone in her battered old Jeep to this remote location in the Nevada
desert, the place that a tabloid claimed was a secret government facility for
manufacturing chemical weapons. A story that no "sensible, mainstream"
reporter would touch. But Nadine, inexperienced and desperate for a big break,
had jumped on the lead. She needed a story.

She had found it. The rumors had been true. White-coated men, assembling
chemicals and missiles. She had taken her pictures, heart beating fast with
triumph, then turned around...and come face-to-face with two burly, uniformed
men pointing Uzi submachine guns at her. Now, left alone with her thoughts in
this dark room, still swaying back and forth from the ceiling, she did not
panic.

She had grown up on the mean streets of inner-city Los Angeles, with a father
she never knew and a mother who was a cocaine addict. Ever since she had been
a little girl, it had always been kill or be killed. She had joined a gang for
protection, left it when she saw it would take her nowhere, and survived
numerous attempted hits for abandoning the gang. She had quickly become
proficient with martial arts and firearms, carrying her first gun, a Walther
PPK, at the age of ten, practicing by shooting tin cans in abandoned back
yards. By twelve, she had made her first kill, a twentysomething gangbanger
and would-be rapist. Even after she had gotten out of that hellhole, gotten
accepted to college, and earned her English/journalism degree, she had never
forgotten the look of pure terror in the would-be rapist's eyes as she pulled
her Walther from underneath her miniskirt, pointed it at his head, and pulled
the trigger. And neither had she ever forgotten the rush she had felt, the
feeling of pure power.

The door opened, bringing her back to the present. A man walked in, pale, fat,
and greasy. He looked at her, licking his lips. She rolled her eyes.

It was no surprise, of course. Nadine was an exceptionally beautiful woman.
Her 5'6", 120-pound frame was slender and athletic. Years of kickboxing,
gymnastics, and cheerleading experience had made her body powerful and
muscular, but still petite and feminine. She was Latina, with long black hair,
brown eyes, and a nice dark tan. Her skintight, low-cut black leather pants
showed off her well-developed and well-muscled bubble butt and her hard
six-pack abs. Her tight gray tank top (with no bra underneath) outlined her
firm 34C breasts and displayed her slim, toned arms. A black belt with a
silver buckle, black combat boots, and black leather gloves completed her
outfit. Her elegant, high-cheekboned, model-like face could melt a man's heart
when she gave one of her warm smiles...or make it beat rapidly with fear with
her icy stares.

Like right now, as the greasy man's heart rate increased with fear as Nadine's
icy stare seemed to bore right through him. Though she was tied and he was
free, there was something about her that made him afraid.

Trying to get ahold of himself, the fat man came closer to her with an oily
smile. "The torturer will be here soon to find out how much you know. But
before you go through a world of pain you and I can have some pleasure." He
unzipped his pants.

It took all of Nadine's self-control not to unleash her Latina temper on this
fat piece of shit. But, seeing her opportunity, she kept quiet as he came
closer, closer...His face was right in front of her waist now, as he moved in
to sniff her crotch.

She struck like a viper. Her legs, which her captors had foolishly not tied,
snaked themselves around his neck and squeezed hard. Gasping for breath, he
tried to pry himself loose with his hands, but her thighs were far too strong
and kept his neck in their lethal grip. He tried shouting for help, but found
that no sound was coming out.

"Awww, baby," she cooed, her voice a mixture of seductiveness and sadism.
"What's the matter? I thought you wanted to get between my legs."

He continued struggling and gasping, his face starting to turn blue.

"Too tight? Want me to give you a break?" she asked with a dazzling smile.

Still unable to speak, his eyes pleaded, "Yes!"

"Okay!" With that, Nadine twisted her athletic hips 180 degrees, breaking her
helpless male victim's neck. She smirked as she looked down into the corpse's
dead eyes.

She loosened her grip, keeping him in position with her left leg, while she
kicked off her right boot. Stretching her right leg down, she gripped between
her toes the handle of a knife that the fat man had been wearing in a sheath.

Nadine released the dead body and let it drop to the floor. She then raised
her right leg upward in a vertical split, taking her foot high above her head.
From there, she transferred the knife to her gloved right hand and quickly cut
herself loose. Landing neatly on the floor, she took a few moments to stretch
her muscles and bring back full blood circulation. She then put her boot back
on and headed for the door, the heavily developed muscles in her deeply tanned
forearm springing to prominence as she gripped the knife tightly.

She opened the door slowly and quietly, then leaned her head out and swiftly
glanced in each direction down the hall. No one was there. She was about to
step into the hallway when she heard footsteps. Quickly, she ducked back into
the room.

A uniformed man carrying a Thompson submachine gun opened the door and poked
his head in. He gasped in surprise upon seeing Nadine missing from her former
position. He began raising his gun, but before he could do anything the lethal
Latina popped out from her hiding place and drove her knife straight into his
throat. She gave the weapon a vicious twist, ripping his throat open, then
yanked the blade out. He collapsed to the floor, gurgling as he died, blood
flowing everywhere. She bent down dispassionately, picked up the Thompson,
quickly found the safety and flicked it off, and headed off down the hall.

Finding nothing but a dead end, she tried the other direction. When she
reached the corner, she peeked around and saw two more uniformed men with M-16
assault rifles about fifty feet further down. They seemed busy talking with
each other.

Nadine pondered her next move. She could simply shoot them, but the noise
would alert others, and she had no idea how many men she would have to face at
once. She could throw her knife, but she had only one knife. She decided to
try sneaking up on them, only resorting to shooting if necessary.

She walked around the corner and started towards the two men, then made a
last-second modification to her plan. Slinging her weapon over her shoulder,
she threw her body into a roundoff followed by a series of back handsprings
towards them.

When she was about halfway to the men, they suddenly turned, eyes widening
with surprise. As she had hoped, the sight of a beautiful woman backflipping
at them at high speed threw them off, and they hesitated before raising their
guns. That moment of uncertainty was enough. Nadine could backflip faster than
most people could run, and before her opponents could open fire she was on
them, backflipping straight into both of them and knocking them both down.

Nadine raised her left leg high above her head, reaching a perfect 180-degree
full standing split, then brought it down onto the first man's head with
tremendous force and blinding speed. Her lethal axe kick shattered his skull
easily, splattering his brains all over the floor and her black leather boot.
Whirling on the second man, who was slowly getting up, she smashed her knee
into the underside of his chin, snapping his neck back with a sickening
CRUNCH. His corpse slumped to the floor.

Smirking at her brutality and efficiency, she unslung her machine gun and
continued on her way. Suddenly, she heard voices coming from a room on her
left. She paused to listen.

"You ready?" said one voice. "The boss wants this over with quickly so we can
get back to business."

"Just about, Lieutenant," came the second voice. "Just let me put the last of
my tools into my briefcase. I'm looking forward to this one. Torturing men is
great, but torturing women is even more fun."

Nadine's tanned brown face turned red with rage. She kicked the door open. The
two men inside stared at her in shock. One man, dressed in a military
officer's uniform with a single gold bar on each shoulder, tried to draw his
sidearm, but Nadine hurled her knife at him with perfect accuracy. The weapon
flew through the air and lodged right in his heart, burying itself in his
flesh all the way to the hilt.

The second man, who was dressed entirely in black and standing next to an open
briefcase, raised his hands as Nadine pointed her submachine gun at him.
"Please don't shoot me," he begged.

She advanced on him, expressionless, keeping the Thompson trained on him. When
she was almost right in his face, her lips moved into an icy smile.

"You must be the torturer," she whispered. "And oh no, I'm not going to shoot
you. That would be letting you off way too easy. You're going to die as slowly
as you would have made me die if you'd had the chance." She suddenly
headbutted him, stunning him. She then tossed her weapon onto a table, grabbed
her victim, and lifted him high into the air.

Then she dropped him down onto her waiting, leather-clad knee in a perfect
backbreaker, shattering his spine with a gruesome CRUNCH and paralyzing him
from the waist down. A swift karate chop to his neck from her leather-gloved
hand knocked him unconscious.

"I still have your buddies to take care of," she whispered. "I'll be back for
you after I've disposed of them. Don't run away now." She giggled as she said
that. Turning, her long black hair whipping behind her, she picked up her
machine gun and headed out of the room.

After several minutes of walking through corridors and going down stairs,
Nadine finally emerged into an enormous room. The same white lab-coated men
she had photographed earlier, half a dozen of them, were there, busy working
on their chemical weapons. Another half dozen men wearing camoflauge uniforms
and carrying various automatic weapons occupied various positions throughout
the room.

Nadine took a deep breath, then raised her submachine gun and opened fire. A
quick burst into the center of mass of the first armed soldier, dropping him,
then moving on. The talented markswoman killed three men before the others
could react. As they began shooting back, she executed a perfect sideways
aerial cartwheel. Several bullets flew harmlessly between her legs as she was
upside down. Landing neatly, she fired another burst, taking out a fourth
soldier. She dove behind a piece of heavy machinery for cover as the last two
soldiers fired at her.

Finding a small gap in the machinery, she positioned the barrel of her
Thompson through it, searching for the right angle. Then she fired, killing
yet another man. The last soldier sprayed the machinery with bullets. As soon
as his weapon clicked empty and he began to reload, Nadine popped up and took
him out with a single, expertly aimed shot to his head.

Suddenly, she heard the distinctive sound of a shotgun being pumped. Whirling,
her long black hair flying, she saw that one of the scientists had acquired a
shotgun and was aiming it at her. She performed a standing back handspring,
the slug sailing between her legs as she flipped. Back upright, she killed him
with a single shot to his heart before he could fire again...but then her
weapon clicked empty.

"Oh, shit," she said out loud. Another scientist bent down, reaching for the
shotgun. Nadine let out a high-pitched warrior cry and did a roundoff followed
by a series of back handsprings directly at him, timing her backflips
perfectly so that each slug he fired went harmlessly between her legs. She
backflipped into him, knocking him down.

Another white-coated man swung a wrench at her. She ducked and fired a lethal
palm strike into his face, mashing the cartilage from his nose into his brain.
Drawing her knife, she bent over the man she had flipped into and slit his
throat. As she raised her body back up, she saw a scientist wearing a mask
about to spray her with something. She hurled her knife at him, a perfect
throw straight into his heart. He fell, the canister he had been holding
clattering and bouncing away.

Two men were left. One ran out of the room. The other was rigging up a
blowtorch. Nadine calmly picked up the shotgun, used her impressive forearm
and wrist strength to pump it one-handed, pointed it at him, and pulled the
trigger.

Click.

"Oops," she said. The man with the blowtorch smirked, but before he could do
anything Nadine rammed the barrel of the weapon hard into his solar plexus. He
doubled over and dropped the blowtorch. She whacked him in the face with the
shotgun, knocking him to the floor, then used the empty firearm as a club,
brutally beating him to death with several blows to his head.

She heard the sound of a door flying open. The man who had fled was back, now
armed with a Beretta pistol. As he opened fire, Nadine cartwheeled away behind
cover.

The scientist pointed his gun around wildly, trying to figure out where his
female opponent was. Unseen, Nadine came up behind him in a fast series of
cartwheels and front handsprings. He finally turned, but it was too late. Her
booted feet kicked him as she went through her final cartwheel, sending him
flying. She leapt onto him, drew back her leather-gloved fist, and punched him
in the throat, crushing his windpipe.

She stood up, heart beating fast, and looked around the room filled with
bullet holes and male corpses. She smiled as she examined her handiwork.
Looking around at the various weapons strewn about, she picked the biggest one
- a belt-fed 7.62mm machine gun - and headed out of the room with her new toy.

Hearing voices, she followed the sound. There were two - a deep voice and a
high-pitched, whiny voice.

"Seems like the shooting's over," came deep voice.

"No way it was her. She couldn't have gotten loose. There must have been
others with her. All positions, report!" came the whiny voice.

Whiny voice grew more shrill. "Fuck, no one's reporting! She must have brought
an army with her! That's the only way those boys could be defeated!"

"No way a whole army could have snuck in. We would have seen them. She was one
petite girl and we saw her and caught her," replied deep voice.

"Well, whatever it is, it's time to bug out," said whiny voice. "I'll call for
a helicopter. You get in touch with your boys. As soon as we're out of here
have them vaporize this place with an airstrike. No one will know there was
ever a chemical weapons facility here. Plausible deniability."

"Sorry, boys," said Nadine. "You aren't going anywhere or calling anyone."

The two men whirled in shock and fear. Sexy Nadine, who had snuck up on them
from behind as they were talking, was pointing her machine gun at them. Deep
voice wore the uniform of an Air Force colonel. Whiny voice was dressed in a
dark suit.

The colonel's eyes traveled downward towards his sidearm. Nadine shook her
head. "That would be a very bad idea. And my gun's a lot bigger than yours."
Both men raised their hands high in the air in fear.

"How the hell did you get loose?" growled the colonel.

"And how the hell did a skinny girl like you defeat an entire squadron of
men?" moaned the whiny man.

Nadine sprayed the floor in front of them with bullets, causing both men to
dance. "I'll be the one to ask the questions," she hissed. "Now, I want to
know exactly what the fuck this shit is all about. Whoever is more helpful
I'll grant a chance to testify to the authorities and get put in the Witness
Protection Program. The other will just die."

"I'm the one you want to talk to! I'm the leader! I know more!" shouted the
whiny man, nearly pissing his pants with terror.

"I know everything he does," said the colonel. "And he's right, he is the
leader. Which makes him more responsible, and less worthy of getting a pass
and being put in the Witness Protection Program."

"Hmm, good point," said Nadine. "Okay, Colonel, start talking. And YOU" - she
addressed the other man - "you just stand there quietly like a good boy. I'll
keep you alive for now in case the colonel's answers aren't satisfactory, but
if you try any stupid shit I have no problem pumping you full of holes."

Whiny voice nodded, trembling like a little girl. The Colonel began his story.

"I was assigned to Syria as an advisor to rebel forces. While I was there, I
received a top-secret call from this man here. He works for the National
Security Agency. The NSA ordered me to acquire chemical weapons from Syria and
smuggle them into the United States. We took the weapons to this facility here
in the Nevada desert. Our scientists then began disassembling and reassembling
the weapons to disguise the fact that they had come from Syria. Once the
weapons had been reassembled, the NSA was going to kidnap a bunch of
anti-government activists and bring them here. Then they were going to kill
them and make it look like the anti-government people were domestic terrorists
who had built these chemical weapons but had gotten killed in a chemical
accident. The NSA's been hugely embarrassed by this recent scandal that
they've been spying on the American people, and this false flag operation
would be used to increase the people's fear of domestic terrorism and try to
justify spying on Americans."

Nadine's face had an expression of fury. "You motherfucking little bitches. I
knew you NSA assholes were scum, but I didn't think you'd sink THIS low."

"You traitor," growled the NSA man to the Colonel. "The Witness Protection
Program won't save you. We have people on our side all throughout the
government, in every agency. You can't hide. One of us will get you
eventually."

"Oh, you don't have to worry about being killed by the NSA or their lackeys,
Colonel," said Nadine. He brightened, but his shoulders sank a second later
when she continued, "Because I'm going to be the one to kill you."

"WHAT?! But you promised me...What about the Witness Protection Program..."

"I lied," said the pretty brunette simply.

"But you need me to tell that story to the authorities. They're not going to
believe just you..."

"They'll believe this." She reached into her pocket and held up a tape
recorder.

The NSA man began snickering, but Nadine put a stop to it by savagely kicking
him in the groin. He fell to the floor, clutching his brutalized family
jewels. "You have nothing to laugh about. At least HE's going to get a quick
death for talking and for not being the one in charge of this shit. You, on
the other hand, won't be so lucky." With that, the hot Latina, holding her big
gun securely with her right arm, reached out with her leather-gloved left
hand. Using her extremely high level of wrist strength, she snapped the
Colonel's neck one-handed.

Nadine then marched the NSA man at gunpoint back to the room where she had
been imprisoned. She tied him, dangling from the ceiling, in the exact same
manner that she had been tied, with the addition of also tying his ankles
together. Then she got the paralyzed torturer, who was just waking up from the
effects of her powerful karate chop, and dragged him into the same room as her
other victim.

The torturer looked up at her. "Please. Mercy."

"The same mercy you would have shown me," she replied. She took careful aim
with her machine gun and pumped the entire length of his left arm with lead,
shredding flesh and bone into paste. She repeated the process with his right
arm. As the man on the ground screamed in pain, she looked up at the NSA man
and said, "Watch carefully, because you're next."

Nadine began kicking the torturer, first targeting his jaw, breaking it with
her first kick. Her following kicks knocked teeth out two or three at a time.
She kicked him in the back of his head several times, then began stomping on
his face repeatedly. Moving lower, she began kicking his ribs, breaking a rib
with each sadistic kick. She continued until she had shattered them all.

"Breathe, baby," she taunted him. "Fragments of bone have gone into your
lungs. With each breath you take you move those fragments in deeper and
deeper. It'll get harder and harder. Soon you'll suffocate." She stood over
him, glaring down at her helpless victim, until he had taken his last breath
and mercifully expired.

Nadine turned her attention to the NSA man, who had both pissed and shat his
pants in terror. She laughed as she noticed. "You chickenshit coward. You
people think you're so tough, hiding in your back rooms spying on innocent
people, surrounded by bodyguards to protect you and lackeys to do your
bidding. Well, you're not so tough now."

"Please," he begged. "I can get you money. Millions of dollars. Just let me go
and you can be rich."

The sexy Latina angrily spat right into his crotch, which was at face level
for her. "You just don't get it, do you, cocksucker?" she snarled. "I'm not
interested in your dirty money. I'm only interested in two things. Your
suffering, and your death." With that, Nadine swiftly broke both of his
ankles, her amazing wrist and forearm strength allowing her to snap the bones
like dry twigs. She then picked up her machine gun. Two quick bursts shredded
his feet into paste, and two single shots shattered his kneecaps. Raising her
aim, she shot him once in each arm and once in each shoulder. She felt her
dark, evil, sadistic side flowing through her as she laughed at his howls of
agony.

Nadine began punching him in the crotch. Although her arms were slender and
feminine, they were also well-muscled, and her blows were very powerful.
Enjoying the feel of her leather-gloved fists pummeling her male victim's
testicles, she brutalized him with over two dozen punches to his gonads.

Then she drew her knife. She grinned wickedly.

"Nooooo...Aaaaahhhhhhh!!" The NSA man let out an unearthly howl as she rammed
the knife right into his balls and gave it a vicious twist. As she yanked it
out, blood began falling steadily. She stabbed him in the side, continuing to
carve him open until she had gone completely around one rib. Yanking the rib
out, with some help from her knife, she hit him in his bleeding groin several
times with his own rib. For the coup de grace, she used the knife to rip his
stomach wide open, leaving him to stare down in horror at his own entrails
hanging out for the last minutes of his life.

Nadine, suddenly feeling dizzy, sat down, waiting for her heart rate to return
to normal. She looked down at her blood-covered body. There would be
authorities and media to call, stories to be prepared, more work to do. But
the most important part was over. She had done it. She had survived. It was
who she was.

THE END

Comments, compliments, and constructive criticism encouraged.

silverstar222b@yahoo.com