Our Vice General Mark Ta had a great plan himself to join our NATO heroes in Thailand.
It was in need for him to relax from office paperwork Mark Ta. "It is a true paper bomb they left there for me." They completed Biders Pachinko's Group fate.
The commando combat on shore bar fighting with local villains was not planned for him to see.
"I hear you Simon, you keep on pouring these sand buckets in your petrol tank."
"Yeah I am real petrol bomb the Molotov cocktail."
"You better pick up your tools from the sandbox and go to sleep. It should be our time for a pa pa off the beach bar." Captain Magnum Mage walks wearing a matching black palm tree top in cream chinos, they had a triple image for our NATO heroes.
"No! We are Yakuza for the night. I cannot take it anymore. I keep pouring sand buckets on it." Simon's vocal chords were heard from far away the moment he decided to splash on his head he spilled on his bar neighbour's eyes.
"Farang!" The fist goes in Simon's spine, the bar stool falls back, and the feet stand firm on the bar floor.
Simon turns around.
Lord Ignacius breaks a bottle on his head it not breaks. "Farang to you."
"I told you it is a petrol bomb." Simon turns his bald head and smiles with one honest gold tooth.
The fighter drops his head to a bar and his arms arches out; he loses control and slides off.
His friends in two tables near stand up and show Lord Ignacius how bottles are broken before bar fighting.
Lord Ignacius steps on their friends' back and breaks the bottle pointing the tip they take steps closer.
One takes the steak knife off the beef cut, one breaks the chair, three picks up the chair debri he takes out a small pocket knife.
Magnum Mage picks up the shoulder of Simon and asks Lord Ignacius to step off him.
"I think we might leave past the back door staircase to the beach if you run fast."
The bar had bamboo pillars and an open square shelter on the rock overlooking Patong Beach in the south side of Patong.
The peaceful single bar two kilometers away from life. Our NATO heroes took one step back to see them.
The two light rings of armoured black car drive closer to a group of young brazen men.
"I hoped you didn't see me here."
Our captain Magnum Mage lets his tight fingers grip his school friends loose.
"I think we are doing ok."
Mark Ta listens to his officer and kicks a good chair to one holding a piece of it.
The jab goes right in his face. "You should break this one."
Magnum Mage is seeing how Simon throws his empty bucket and charges in his slippers wearing matching chinos and black palm t-shirt.
Lord Ignacius continues with his plan and heads to a fight wearing his cream chinos and black palm tree top wearing no shoes. He stabs one guy in the leg holding a steak knife. He screams from the pain it causes to nerves close to an artery. "You should learn from the pain or I will cut you like a steak." His hand slumps to one knee and catches the table in the fist holding a steak knife.
The bottleneck is in his leg; they both look in the eyes and steak knife.
Our Lord Ignacius steps on his fist for Simon to thumble him rolling over the table with two guys on his back.
The barback runs past the stairs to the beach screaming for help.
Mark Ta stretches his knuckles to sides, his head to sides and swings his arms to sides. "It's been a long time off the desk I was in the bar fight."
Our Mark Ta jabs attention two guys on his back hitting Simon over his head on the floor with bottles they are trying to break. "You sons quicker break his skull rather than those tiger bottles into him." They turn around and NATO Vice General hits each in the face. They drop to the floor.
Our Magnum Mage picks up the chair and sits back listening to the peaceful ocean swing of waves and enjoying the view.
They walk up to him both holding chair wooden legs.
Our Lord Ignacius kicks both repetitively over the sides splashing his blow to their knees
He rubs his beard on his face and steps over their faces repetitively enjoying blood splatters.
"You stay peaceful Lord. Their heads are not coconuts and we are not in a military drill."
"I fock them good." Lord is holding a champagne bottle covered in dark dripping blood of black bottle.
He stands looking at them on the floor not responding. His legs felt exhausted.
One who broke the chairs runs. "What do we do with him, Mage?"
"Let him run." Magnum Mage replies sitting in the chair.
He moments later comes back with a handgun.
It took him a few steps to get his scooter to have his back compartment open and now he is shouting and pointing a gun asking to have their hands up. "Farang!"
Magnum Mage stands up and holds his hands up for others to follow.
It was do not play hide and seek or those evil spirits will take children to after life when evil had her way.
Our NATO heroes had kidnapped organ traffickers children for an organ farm pit found.
They are looking to the pit of dead children. "This looks focked." Mark Ta the Vice NATO Commando General spoke to our NATO heroes.
Them seeing the pit of 75 dead children.
Their night seeing mutilated corpses and local gangster, thought to threaten with a handgun force to drive to the burial site, shot them into the pit.
The poor lying corpses half rotten the meat were crawling from bugs out their dead eyes looking to the night sky smell killing your stomach. They were laid on each other.
The organ traffickers were behind it. It was not clear for our NATO heroes.
"We raise a war." Magnum Mage turned round and walked away.
"We kill those psychopaths." Lord Ignacius gave a salute.
"I should enjoy their children instead." Mark Ta placed his arm on Simon's shoulder and walked away. Simon rubs his bald head.
*.*
The art trader and painter from Lithuania were enjoying her business trip in Thailand Kingdom showering her riches and good intentions not only in her four men showeroom for her subcontractors but their wallets as it would benefit her greatness with local men.
Her famous painting of refugee children on the Greek coast had international intentions. Her internal charity donations flew in from world leaders, her showering in riches and glory not only her showeroom but black market organs trafficking deals.
The low rent cut the throats of surgeons, the convicted medical doctors flew around the world, the psychopaths were serial killers and hidden talents to play with the scalpers to cut children's hearts out.
Our NATO heroes were out for them.
The woman who was poisoned all of her life, a rich family to learn the holidays never to be over in a clue to criminal activity of organ traffickers.
^.^
"Here are some Italian passports for your holidays in Thailand." Mark Ta presents government passports.
"Oho, it looks straight out Gammoras printer." Simon Says thanks to his Vica NATO Commando General.
Our NATO heroes therefore leave for their first holidays from trials and troubles they had from Osaka, Japan to Lublin, Poland.
It was her feet stepping out black limousine in the fur balls on her grey suede boots outside the Bangkok night club in a fur coat.
The blond dreadlocks with pink swings. It was not too hot for her. She was Lithuanian.
The edison light bulbs spreading yellow light shines car wax.
"Aciu." Her hand gently bends to thank a man opening her door for her stepping.
"It will be a great night." The foreign investor spoke her words.
The fur is yellow pink wearing sky blue jeans. The sky was her limit.
"I am happy to meet you. I am Lucinda Sarka."
Her palm raises low for a kiss. "Thank you."
The warm wishes of men leads her in.
When powerful and rich men of politics kiss her palm wearing an oversized silver ring and broken rock in the middle of her finger, others avoid knowing it has a dark side of it underneath blue rock.
The black seal of a lady skeleton stamp was made for her by an Antwerp private jewellery maker from Belgium.
It is the seal to seal her black market organ donors deals and their fate.
The daughter is from the Republic of Lithuania family. Her mother was Lithuanian president and her father is Lithuanian logistics mogul.
It is the Sarka family. Mr Liudas Sarka and Mrs Sarune Gribe Sarka. Miss Liucinda Sarah Sarka, their daughter, enjoyed networking with her prey.
•.•
Her standing in her eighteen birthday suit seducing the driver was her first prey has her hands murdered. He had orders to pick her up from their beachouse.
"You like a glass of red wine."
Her standing in her birthday black satin top and bottom from a haute couture shop in Paris.
The white nails hands holding her honey smell body sweet to a loving and caring skin, the smell and pure look in her eyes she walks in her underwear asking him to sit in the kitchen her back sits to a counter.
"I would love you but I had too many men attend my birthday."
Her smile softly brushes his eyes gently, vibrating his heart.
Miss Sarka pours one more glass of vine. "But if I have one more drink and make my father wait for me sliding on top of you. I think I am ok for a final birthday gift."
"I think dear Miss Sarka you are mistaken. I cannot do it. I worked for your father driving you to school."
"He won't care, I put your dick past as my birthday gift." Her finger softly slides past the curves of her chest to her ribcage sliding the look in his eyes.
She pushes black satin to side her hips in her legs relax her finger nail underneath it she pulls it to slap.
"I am bikini waxed." Miss Sarka walks further to her hunt from cold tiles her feet reaches the blue carpet of velvet her hand passes the drink.
"I am sorry ma'am. I can't."
Her hand pours on his face the wine she spills. "You are such a loser." Her hand slaps him.
"We should leave. I will call your father and you dress. Ok?" Her driver nodded.
"I will call him."
The heart in her chest felt a little colder, it was her mother's and father's blood in her, the rich blood of other things. The white pillar has a crystal glass break.
The handle breaks in his neck and she sits on his suit softly holding his firm jaw up looking in his eyes.
Her lips gently blow sweet kisses of air, her blood and pleasure dreams are manifesting. "I love the moment you die. I said I will call my father."
The blood pouring out of his artery holds their look in one. Her hips round his legs, the blue carpet in blue blood the iron fills the air. His eyes are dazing to fail.
His lips hoping to speak inhales her sweet breath.
The moment it is she pours the last drink in her mouth to step back to pick up his phone.
The number dials.
"Father, father, I had an accident….Our driver tried to use me, he made me drink and made me stay naked. He could see me. He pulled closer and I was not far to use but we fought and we had lots of blood."
Her eyes tear in the moment of her truth. Then her finger presses to end the call and her lips to smile.
Miss Sarka looks at a dead body, she picks up his zipper forcing it open and rubs her fingernails in a harder squeeze like a laboratory sample test.
Her tongue comes out, she rubs the nails out of him and sucks it. "The last sucker goodbye."
Miss Sarka depreciates his puffed lips, the smirk of his dead face, unshaved beard round his blown lips to the thick jaw and piece of crystal sticking out of his neck the last drops of blood saying who he is.
Her one look smirking in him, turns round for a disprovable hiss of her lungs. Her breasts in black bra moves and walks away from her father's dead henchman.
The hand brushes her blond hair on fire.
It is time to wait and see her birthday drama unfold. Her mind was a little princess.