Capture & Surrender L.A. Witt

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.“Twenty more and a round at the Lion says Stefan puts him on his back or his knees.”Geoff laughed.“You really buy into this kid, don’t you?” He pulled his wallet out of his back pocket.Fingers moving nimbly in spite of the plated gloves, he pulled the cash out of the fold.“All right, then.Twenty.Pony up, lads.”They all pulled out the agreed upon money and folded it inside Mike’s toolkit along with a scrap of paper on which Frank had scribbled “round of beer @ Lion.”“You’re going to be buying those beers, Frank.” Geoff clapped his shoulder.“Trust me.”“Oh yeah? What makes you say that?”Geoff gave a sharp sniff of amusement and slid his gaze towards Stefan, who was still huddled with the rest of the red team.“See that gun he’s got?”“Yeah.You were pretty impressed with it.”“Aye.But that’s the gun tech talking.Toy like that? He’s got his strategy tied up in gear.Boys with guns like that don’t know a damned thing about anything except how to shoot.Not a bloody clue about strategy or not getting shot.”Frank raised an eyebrow.“He’s ex-Army, you know.”“Mm-hmm.” Geoff patted his shoulder, then picked up his mask.“If he was any good, maybe he would still be Army.”Frank chuckled.Stefan may have a pretty toy to play with, but Frank suspected the kid knew his way around a battlefield.Particularly when the stakes included getting his hands on that former pilot’s cock.Frank, for one, was looking forward to Stefan kicking arse.Or, alternatively, Stefan getting his arse handed to him, as long as Frank got to watch.The game could really go either way to please him, as long as the end result encompassed sweat, dirt, and camo.“Right.” Frank put on his mask.“Let’s have some fun.”Geoff headed to the teams to explain the first scenario, while Mike and Frank headed onto the playing field.This first setup was easy enough.Put the teams with their flags on opposite sides of the playing field, and whoever got the enemy flag first, won.This sometimes turned into Last Man Standing, when the guys were having too much fun shooting at each other and attempting a capture to think of any objective.The first game was either cautious and probing as desk workers stretched their legs for the first time in a week, or rowdy and boisterous as people let go of a week’s worth of pent-up stress.This one might fall into the second category, thanks to the addition of a new guy.People would be keen to see him in action.Frank moved to the edge of the field.Teams tended to split up, and if two guys teamed up for a flanking manoeuvre, he intended to be there and close enough to watch.The uneven ground offered some protection from stray paint, too.Mike gave the signal with a hand-wound siren, and Frank could feel even his own blood pound.Stalk, kill, capture or be captured.Something beautiful and primal about it that wiped away all of life’s other concerns.Out here in the forest, none of that mattered.As predicted, the blue team split up.Two stayed behind to protect the flag, and the others formed teams of two and flanked, one from the left, the other from the right, advancing swiftly.Frank couldn’t see the other team yet, didn’t hear a shot fired, either, but moved sideways, ahead of the team flanking along the far left.A lone red shooter creeping along the edge of the field turned his head towards Frank.Stefan in his American camo with his tricked-out gun.Behind the mask’s tinted visor, Frank imagined the eyes of a hunter.Frank moved backwards, staying out of the way as he watched the reds advance.There! A flash of movement between the tree stumps, the hiss and pop of balls fired, and the splat as they hit a tree near Frank, cool spray landing on the exposed skin of his neck.He swiftly moved further back.Providing Stefan with some ref-shaped moving cover was not what he had planned, and taking balls for him was not on the agenda either.He hunkered down behind some fallen logs, the yellow boundary tape close enough to reach if he extended a hand.From there, he watched Stefan move carefully, silently, before he took cover behind a tree to squeeze off a few shots at the advancing blues.“Fuck!” somebody shouted, and then “Out! I’m out!” Not far away, one of the blue team stepped out of cover, marker raised and waving.Frank kept an eye on him getting off the field.When he turned back, he’d lost Stefan.Frank frowned in his mask, swept the area, but Stefan was gone.He did see another guy who was entering a pitched battle with two others, balls flying and paint splatting the ground around and behind him, until Frank was damn near sure the pinned player would never survive this round.Then the shooting abruptly stopped, and he heard some cursing from behind the bunker covering the two shooters.“Out!” One of the blue shooters called, holding up his marker to signal he’d been hit.Frank moved forwards, curious about what exactly had happened.A second blue was making his way off the field to trudge back to the start point, cursing under his breath and refilling his paint hopper as he walked.Then Frank noticed two guys.He quickly recognised Stefan as the one coming up behind a solitary blue shooter.Oh.Chris.Frank hung back, trying not to alert him.Stefan snuck up behind Chris.The ex-pilot scanned the battlefield in front of him, oblivious to the soundless soldier creeping up on him.Then Stefan touched him on the shoulder with a gloved hand.“Captured,” he said loudly enough for Frank to hear.Chris very nearly dropped his marker in shock, then lifted his hands.Stefan turned his head and looked right at Frank, like he knew exactly where Frank was hiding.In spite of the glare on Stefan’s visor, Frank was sure Stefan winked at him.First capture of the day, what, ten minutes into the first game? The man was a bloody wizard on the field.Stefan kept a hand on Chris’s shoulder and walked him out.Captured fair and square, and for all his bluster and ego, Chris was likely completely okay with it.Plenty of guys tried to catch him, but Frank suspected Chris pretty much chose the men he wanted to be captured by.They moved beyond the yellow line and a little further behind some raised earth that would protect them from a stray round.Frank kept half an eye on the field, another on what was going on there.Stefan took off Chris’s mask, but kept his own on.Frank liked that.Something about the captor’s hidden face and eyes, not to mention the vulnerability of the unmasked captive, reinforced the fantasy for him, drove home that bit about power.And the gloved hand pushing down on Chris’s shoulder—yeah, that too.Frank swallowed dryly when Chris fell to his knees.He lifted his hands, but Stefan batted his fingers away and opened his own trousers.He was only half-hard, but Frank bit back a groan of appreciation [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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