f the General. They hadn' t expected that the General would want to
ihe tank and their time had e. They were dishonorable discharged
from the corps. Brock -- as far as Dwight knew -- had found a job on with a
stru pany and Wade had spent a number of years behind ty bars
for assaulting a Sheriff.
"I know, but Wade and I get along quite nicely," Hank replied, "I might be
able to talk some seo this stupid shit-head. If Wade agrees, Brock
will follow. The dumb oaf always does what his older brother tells him to
do."
"I give it a try," Dwight sighed.
"No you don' t!" Hank warned. "Don' t mess with these fuckers. Wait for me ..."
The li dead.
"Fuck!" Hank cursed and smashed the phone in the sand. He turned around and
glowered at the curly haired Arab who sat handcuffed on a chair. The stocky
built insurgent gave him a defiant look.
"Fuck you!" he spat the words with a heavy Middle-Eastern at.
Hank gave him a devilish grin, unbuttoned his fly and pulled his cock out.
The impressive man tool was already semi-ered it took the 200 lbs
muscle hunk just a few strokes to yank it at full attention.
Sudden panic showed in the eyes of the Arab.
"You were saying ...?" Hank growled, f the Arab' s head back.
"Mmpfff ..." was all the captive could reply when 11 inches of hefty marine
meat were shoved down his throat.
"Fuck!" oher side of the globe Dwight cursed, banging the receiver
down. There was a soft knock at the door.
"What?" the Sergeant shouted.
The door opened and a lanky, sinewy Asian maered. He was in his early
twenties, but Dwight was not so sure. He had trouble to guess the age of
Asians anyway. The man was wearing a dark suit, white shirt and a dark blue
tie. He bowed politely.
"Good afternoon Sir, my name is Choi Lee Kwan, I am your inter-cultural
advisor",