Garnet Smith was an experienced Marine when he was transferred to 48 Commando. His statuesque figure and shock of red hair made him quite obvious in any military parade, so his hair was kept short and hidden under his green marine beret. Otherwise he had performed well when deployed around Britain’s shores. He had picked up a Scottish accent from living in Faslane, and was comfortable protecting nuclear facilities as part of 43 Commando.

He had undergone the treatment needed to be part of 48 Commando with his now Lieutenant and Sergeant, and now that the year’s training had ended his Lieutenant was now a Captain, and his Sergeant was a Warrant Officer. As was promised, all the marines in 48 Commando were now Sergeants.

Garnet tended to work with Ruby, another redhead, on deployments. Both now had long hair. One brick red and the other was rich auburn, although they often needed to go brunette or blonde for assignments. They were like sisters in choosing to wear green when out of uniform, and could often be see arm in arm round the base. With their height, stunning figures and beauty, they seemed a formidable pairing for any man who thought he might like to date one of them.

At dances at the base both would wear striking evening dresses, with lots of cutouts with their pale skin showing in many places. If a man didn’t invite them to dance, they invited one or two men who would be unable to refuse. These were no viragos. They were charming and accomplished women able to flatter and seduce a civic dignitary or diplomat. Their foreign languages were extensive and accomplished. Men could be seen making suggestive comments about the two in a foreign tongue before being torn off a strip when they were understood. Even senior diplomats and service personnel were cowed when their highly inappropriate language was called out.

Any man undaunted by their appearance found them to be accomplished lovers, and the men would creep back to their rooms in the morning prostrated by the night’s exertions.

Both had had to kill during the first year after completing their training and body reshaping. They remembered well the penetrating blue light that allowed the surgeons to meld and realign their parts to create the stunning beauties they had become.

They did not blend into the background when deployed. They were usually the centre of attention. Women were challenged when they acted as man magnets, and men who though they could resist the charms of beautiful women had their resolve tested, and they sometimes failed.

At breakfast one morning the Major went over to Ruby and Garnet and asked them to report for a briefing at 09:00.

Ruby and Garnet knew this was an order, and arrived promptly in uniform with their sergeant stripes and 48 RM (48 Royal Marines) on their shoulders. They saluted the Colonel and she asked them to sit.

“We have been asked to visit a small country in South America. If I say that their president has recently had a visit to the White House, you will know the one I mean. The democratic leadership of the country seems to be on the point of being toppled by a group of radicals who are very well armed. They are very devoted to their leader who attended a famous Public School here in Britain, and then went on the Oxford where he read for a degree in Land Management of all things. He returned to his home country and set up various laudable programs to help the peasants grow more food, but the injustice of the wealth gap between rich and poor made him turn to revolution to make a more equitable Society.”

“The British Government is not against regime change in that country, but needs to know if supporting this British educated revolutionary will lead to a more stable government with a leaning towards Britain and its policies, or will lead to civil strife and chaos. We have no Embassy in the country and our Commercial Attaché in the next door country has no sources of information there. Our Chargé d’Affairs there hasn’t got a clue what is going on and is regarded as very much third division and is serving his time until retirement.”

“What concerns us most is that the revolutionary leader is a narcissist, and we are concerned that if he is approved by the Americans and is invited to the White House, there will be triggered a classical interaction between two narcissists.”

“We can see that the two men are in communication and are now in what is called “The Honeymoon” period where they bond over shared grandiosity, charm and confidence viewing the other as an ideal political match. They are clearly heaping praise on the other, and our allies in the USA are about to pour armaments and other resources into the country, and as a consequence, the elected government will fall.”

“We know that a Power Struggle will follow between the two men because neither partner possesses true empathy or a willingness to compromise. Soon there will come a period where each attempts to devalue the other until there is violent split leaving this small country in a parlous state with disease and starvation expected.

“Your orders are to go to the country, join the ex-British schoolboy, who, by the way, has a fascination for red heads, seduce him if you must, but flatter him into a false sense of security. If he will be beneficial to our interests then report back to us, but if he will be detrimental to our interests then he is to be removed from the scene. Do I make myself clear?”

“May I make a suggestion?” Garnet asked.

“Yes, of course.”

“I know that we have to be dependent on our own resources, but our radios only have a limited range and as you have said our diplomats in the area are not really regarded as top drawer. Pearl has had fewer deployments that the rest of us. I wonder if she can remain near to our nearest legation to be a link via satellite phone, and then to our government here. She doesn’t have good Spanish yet and could remain near the International hotel getting some good practice.

“I think that is a very good idea. I shall sort that out before you go.”

“I have a pack for you of information about the country and its geography.

“I also have your travel papers here, and passports in new names. Your visas say that you are interested in developing tourism in the country. You may remember that important Inca, or Aztec or something, sites have been discovered in the forests there.”

“You will need to travel to the nearest International airport, and then to the local airport and from there by bus or lorry over roads that are a bit of a nightmare.”

“We have arranged for you to be introduced to the archaeologist team that are still hacking away at the jungle to make the ruins visible. They are very short of money to continue their research, so we have given you a bundle of US dollars to sweeten him. He has said by satellite phone that he will show you around and then introduce you to the revolutionary leader who is expected to fall for one or both of you.”

“After the decision has been made whether we should support him, or terminate him, you should report via Pearl to us, and we will give the order to either end the placement amicably, or for the leader to end his days. He is called Miguel, by the way, which means ‘Like God’ in Hebrew. Often that means a rhetorical question saying that actually no one is like God, but as time goes on, his speeches available on the Internet show that he is deluded enough to think that he is on a par with God. He will be fickle and unreliable. He needs women to flatter him and pander to his every whim. He has a bevvy of local beauties who serve him in every sense. You will be in competition with them, so they may also be a challenge. Alternatively they may welcome you because he has favourites amongst his male cronies and will often expect one of his ‘ladies’ as he chooses to call them to sleep with them when he is pleased.”

“You have been given rings that inject a toxin that will look as if his heart gave out when he was making love to one of you. Any doctor in a remote camp will diagnose a heart defect that was going to kill him sooner or later, and it just happened when he was climaxing inside one of you. The scratch marks on his back will cover any sign of the puncture of the hypodermic built into your ring.”

“Are you suggesting that sex with him will involve a certain amount of pain on his part?”

“Almost certainly. He is known to favour rough sex.”

“It seems to me that he may need a dominatrix?”

“It is known that some, even many, narcissists are drawn to dominatrixes. It is all to do with being able to control people by setting limits, and they can also feel an emotional emptiness that a submissive relationship with a dominatrix may help to fill.”

“If you have to terminate him, you will need to make your way to the coast by river, then activate the trackers in your compacts, and you will be recovered by HMS Trent or HMS Medway which are stationed in the area to attempt to control the drugs trade.”

“If it all ends amicably, then your exit should be the same way you arrived.”

“I think it sounds as if the World will be better off without him. He seems to be one of the worst type of despots around at the moment. Just a trumped up serial abuser of women. Can’t we just terminate him?”

“Unfortunately not. He may be the best bet for controlling the drug trade that is sinking the USA in Cocaine.”

“Pity.”

“I agree with you, but we are just the servants, not the master (or is that mistress) here.”

The next few days were filled with preparations, but Garnet, Ruby and Pearl were soon at Heathrow waiting for a British Airways direct flight to Cheddi Jagan International Airport in Guyana and then on by a local flight to a smaller airport some hundreds of miles away and finally to a jungle clearing near their destination as arranged by their archaeologist contact. Pearl remained in the capital.

An elderly lorry was waiting for them and the mixture of unlabelled bags and crates were unloaded and the two women sat beside the driver who smoked continually something that smelled like burning exhausted mushroom compost. No doubt this was to cover his body odour, but he only spoke a few words during the whole journey that took several hours travelling over dirt roads cut into tropical rain forest.

Eventually a makeshift army encampment appeared with lots of camouflage tents and a few wooden buildings.

“Welcome to ‘The Ranch’.” a cultured voice said in perfect English as they stepped out of the elderly vehicle that wheezed its way back out of the camp once its load had been recovered.

The figure who spoke was a slim man of perhaps thirty, dressed in forest green fatigues with a set of shoulder slides that did not relate to any known rank. His longish blond hair was tied back in a loose bunch, and his perfect teeth shone in the sunlight. He wore sandals made of worn out car tyres and webbing and further webbing held up a large .45 calibre pistol, probably a Taurus. Old but a large enough calibre to stop a person wherever they were hit.

“I am Miguel”, he said.

“Thankyou for the welcome, Miguel.” Ruby replied.

“Do you know why we are here?”

“Yes, our friends at the archaeological site have said that you are investigating the possibility of escorted tours of the archaeological site here. It is really very extensive and exciting for those who know about such things. We appreciate outside organisations taking an interest in our little country and we will need tourism to make all the plans I have come to fruition.”

They sat down at a table and chairs outside a tent that was larger than the others.

“Tell me about some of your plans. Your country needs one government before we can start bringing tours here, but it doesn’t stop us making plans and getting to know the people who will be running the show here.”

“Yes, we do need to establish a stable government here, but you will find enduring friends here to establish tourism once the revolution has succeeded.”

After a thick, almost bitter cup of coffee served with a glass of lukewarm water, Miguel and the two women sat down to a meal. It was served by several dark skinned beauties with lustrous black hair. They wore very little except a sarong slit up to the waist and a strip of cloth across their breasts and tied at the back into a rough knot.

One was clearly resentful of having to be a waitress. When Garnet commented on their beauty, Miguel said in a totally unabashed comment that they were all very attached to him, and would do whatever he wanted. It was a comment that was full of meaning. This was not lost on the Ruby and Garnet, who saw several other women in the background who were similarly dressed and were clearly in the later stages of pregnancy.

As the evening continued, oil lamps were brought out.

Miguel was the perfect gentleman and guided the two women to a well-made tent with camp beds. A canvas basin was filled with spring water and mounted on a stand. Miguel apologised for the primitive toilet arrangements. There was an earth latrine with two long planks suspended over a drop some two metres deep. The day’s waste was covered by a layer of earth each night, but it was open and one just had to sit on the two planks in full view.

“The archaeologist will be out at 10am tomorrow to guide you to the ruins. I am sure you will enjoy the visit.”

“Yes, thank you for your hospitality, Miguel. I am sure we will.”

…and he disappeared to his own tent where various sounds emerged of his making use of one or more of his dark haired beauties who would do anything he asked!

Garnet managed to send a message on her phone to Pearl several hundred miles away and got a reply.

The camp began to stir at 6:30 and the two women managed to wash in the bowl before emerging to a welcome breakfast.

They were again served by several of the local beauties. Ruby and Garnet both spoke good Spanish, but the guttural language used by the women was unfamiliar.

Without thinking, Miguel put his hand under the short sarong and stroked one woman’s buttocks, but then thought better of it and withdrew his hand quickly.

The woman just looked across at the two English women with a look of contempt. “This is my man, her body language seemed to say … but the number of women around Miguel’s tent made it clear that she was one of a number who occupied his bed!

Professor Arthur arrived promptly at 8:30, as he said, before the sun gets too hot. They took water and a light meal with them and followed the Professor the two or three miles to the site. The range of ruined buildings and the pyramids were indeed spectacular and the trees were threatening to grow back over the site which was the best part of a mile long. Streets formed a grid and a system of water channels carried water into the homes and then waste was carried out. It had been very well designed and at its peak had a population of maybe five thousand.

The walls were covered by carvings of what appeared to be blood thirsty demons showed what sort of a place it had been, but the Professor said they were actually quite benign gods. The Professor was so enthusiastic about his project that he hardly noticed the women, and it was only when Garnet started to ask questions about safety for visitors or public toilets or restaurants and a means of access, that the Professor stopped talking so enthusiastically and sank into a sort of melancholy. One of his assistants, a young woman dressed in a wide brimmed hat, a strappy top and brief khaki shorts with boots with thick socks, took over the commentary.

He brightened up considerably when the US dollars were handed over, but quickly returned to his morose state.

Maria continued “The access depends upon the Civil War. When it is over companies like yours will need to have commercial helicopters to fly tourists into this complex and back again to their hotels. It would be possible to have tourists trek here as they do for Machu Picchu, but the jungle trails are hazardous, and the rivers are not easily navigable by anything larger than a motor boat.”

“It is certainly a wonderful site, full of interest, but until the war is over, we will need to keep it as an option for the future rather than something to develop now. We will go round and take a number of photographs to show our managers back in the UK.”

“What is your opinion of the progress of the war, Professor?”

“I keep well away from the war. The two sides can see the advantages of letting me work here, and neither interfere, and I don’t try to judge the pros and cons of each side.”

“I think we have enough pictures. Would one of you guide us back to the campsite?”

Maria, volunteered.

As she walked back she warned the two women of the inclinations of Miguel and his group of what can only be described as concubines.

“We know about Miguel’s inclinations, but he has not made any attempts on us as yet. If he does we are well prepared.”

It was late into the afternoon when they returned and Miguel was intrigued to see the photographs on Ruby’s phone. He stood very close and soon had put his arm round her waist and was resting his hand on her hip. Ruby allowed that, but when the index finger of the other hand started tracing patterns on her breast, she objected.

“If you do that I will break both your arms.”

Miguel laughed. “To use a well known phrase from my school days You and whose army.”

Garnet interrupted.

“We have some knowledge of your past, Miguel. We know that another boy at your school was expelled for seducing you.”

“That wasn’t my fault. It was him that was expelled.”

“Why did you let him do it? The eventual court case brought by the boy’s father said that it took about fifteen minutes before you were discovered. You could have shouted for help in that time.”

Miguel was clearly embarrassed by this revelation, but as no one except him spoke English in the camp he could hide his embarrassment.

“We also noted that when you were at university you got to know a woman called Clare Kemball who insisted that you called her Madam Latex. I think your safe word with her was “Love”, but the indulged herself with a variety of whips, restraints and various other painful equipment that subjected you to all sorts of indignity. I interviewed her and she said that you enjoyed her urinating over you and would give her a licking as she menstruated. I don’t think you can get much more perverted than that. She is still a dominatrix to rich boys who need discipline, as she would put it.”

“How do you know all this?” Miguel cried in a very plaintive tone. Anyone in earshot must have been aware of the tone of his voice, even it they didn’t know what he was saying.

“We make it our business if we are going to have dealings with someone. Everyone has a weak spot and we are here to see what we can offer that is mutually helpful.”

“You were trying to get close to Ruby. She objected to you touching her breast quite rightly. She is also right. She could break both your arms in less than a minute. If you want to continue, you will have to play by our rules. We take no prisoners. We will take you to the edge of pain and suffering using the techniques that you find most alluring. We are experts in helping men like you fill the emotional vacuum in their lives. Having lots of women falling over to get pregnant by you eventually begins to pall. To repeat. What you need is discipline and we can give it to you for a few days or weeks.”

“What do you say to our proposal?”

“No thought needed. You accept or reject. If you reject, then we repeat what we have said to you in Spanish for anyone who wants to hear. Would you survive? Even your lady friends en masse would beat you to a pulp, I think. You have treated them abysmally. They may have seemed willing to accept your brutality. I have seen the whips and canes in your tent and also seen the healed scars on their bodies. They have given birth with minimal healthcare and several of their babies have died in infancy.”

Miguel held himself erect and stared at the two women. “I don’t think you would dare to say that. Who would support the tours you are hoping to run?”

“We don’t care for your attitude.” and Ruby recounted the story of Miguel’s upbringing in Spanish for all to hear.

It was the women who disappeared into the forest first, then the men disappeared one or two at a time overnight until by the morning there were only a few stalwarts left.

Miguel was broken as a man, and asked them for help.

At that moment a telephone message came in from Pearl. It just said. ‘Terminate’. Ruby looked at it and nodded to Garnet who had also received the message.

Ruby twisted her ring and opened the front with a delicate fingernail and said. “Yes we will help you and squeezed Miguel’s shoulder with her hand as if supporting him and the ring did its work.

The hypodermic delivered its dose of neurotoxin and within a minute Miguel was collapsed on the forest floor in what remained of his camp. He looked up at them.

“I thought you were going to help.”

“We have” Ruby said. “It is just not the help you were expecting.”

The two women turned away from the body as Miguel breathed his last. Take what you want, they said to the handful of faithful troops who had not deserted. “This is over.”

They collected some food for the journey back. Canoes had been left on the river bank by the deserters and they loaded one up before paddling down the 50 miles to the sea. They noted that the myriads of forest ants were already showing an interest in Miguel’s body. It wouldn’t be around for long.

HMS Trent picked them up from the beach in response to their signal from the transmitter hidden in the base of their lipsticks, and delivered them to the nearest International Airport.

Ten days after leaving the camp they were back in their base being debriefed.

Pearl had returned some days before and was able to greet them at Heathrow with lots of hugs.

The government of the country was no better after Miguel’s revolution had been quashed, and the flow of cocaine carried on undiminished, continuing to ruin the lives of young and old.

No one thanked the 48th. They knew it was just their job, and got on with it.

Note - This can be the first of a number of extensions to the basic Smiths story. If you would like to read more, then please send me a comment and say so. Thanks for reading.