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4chan Stories of a Private Military Contractor (PMC Anon): Literal Descent into Shit 2/5

Ok then wife story time.
Not the most complicated of stories but memorable for the shit involved.

Click here for the daughter of the caribbean story (1/5)

Told by the boss a client wants us to locate his wife. Has been missing for the better part of a month after taking out a f**kton of money from his accounts. From what we can tell she converted it to cash or moved it into accounts we can't locate.

Given all the info, last known location and known habits.

Turns out we've done this before. Twice in fact. So we have a fairly good idea of where she could be. Women have a tendency to be creatures of habit. Problem is this one's habits are a bit whacky.

Each time she's ran off she's gone to some really f**ked up high class sex club and literally spent all her money there until she runs out and had to surface to grab more. First time was your typical 24 hour all year orgy club. There are some who f**king lives in the things it's disgusting. Second time was at an extreme BDSM club.

She'd spent a few months being used as furniture. Needed time in hospital. So we realised this time was going to be worse. At the BDSM club we'd almost lost one of our group to a Gorean dom. Poor girl was never quite the same afterwards. Women rarely last in the job.

First thing we did was hit the lists. Complete records of all clubs like that in Europe as she'd never gone outside the continent in the past for this sort of thing. Lot of clubs but we narrowed it down based on her area, lack of any sightings at airports (like f**k she'd drive or take a train) and so on. Went to a particular city infamous for this sort of shit.

Lots of places like what we were looking for there. All tailored to the absurdly wealthy. Got off the plane, through customs and checked into a hotel. Declined the complimentary call girl.
Wait till the evening as that's when these clubs open their doors to strangers. Have to use this fancy ass disguise kit as we're known at more than a few of them and they don't like having customers stolen. Fortunately one of us knows how to use the bloody thing and we wind up looking like a group of stereotypical rich scots bushy orange mutton chops and all.

Hit some of the clubs with no luck. Have a bad run in with someone who almost recognised us. Managed to escape without any incident beyond having to throw a few bottles at them and scream dogpile.

Begin to despair that this is going to turn into one of those long winded cases. It does. We spend a month checking clubs all over Europe. Extra resources are pulled in as the client starts throwing more money at our boss to do it faster. Eventually we get a tip. Someone has seen our target at a particular club. Celebration all round.

Finally a solid lead Then comes the bad news. It's a new club. Its a hardcore scat club.

We are talking about a place that has never. EVER. Been cleaned. A literal den of filth and disease. They hose you off after you leave with antiseptic. She's in there and she has been in there a while.

Call the client to tell him to arrange a discreet hospital stay, pickup and so on. Order some hazmat suits and guns from the boss. There is just no talking with some people.

Few days later everything is arranged and observation of the club has not shown her leaving. Some people do pay extra. It seems to stay in the club's own hotel where they can keep the party going. All of us are by virtue of being in this job a bit....obsessed with cleanliness.
Try to convince the boss to send someone else.

miami vice 80s GIF
He refuses. All of us sat there miserable. Trying to find any excuse to not do this. Not daring to be in the same room as our informant in the club. The gear arrives from the boss along with a body bag to stuff the target in. An ambulance will be waiting as our escape vehicle.
We give ourselves one final rubdown with alcohol gel, disinfectants and whatever else is handy in the shower before we get dressed and wait for everyone to be ready. I can only imagine the doormans confusion when four men in bright yellow hazmat suits carrying shotguns walked up to him. Said confusion prevented him from really acting until it was too late and he got a shotgun butt in the face.

Rather than bothering with keys or shit we simply shoot the lock off and kick in the door. The first room is pretty much just an airlock. Step in, shoot the second lock and kick in the door. It was...simply horrific.

There was shit everywhere and people rolling around in it copulating. Doing things that are simply indescribable. A woman shat into a mans mouth as he pissed into hers. People copulated in a pit full of human feces. We all just stood there in shock as people slowly noticed us.

Then the screaming started.

A few shotgun blasts to the ceiling got them screaming more and running, we looked for our target in the crowd
Kicking in doors left and right every door revealing a new scene of horrific waste related kink. No this was beyond kink. This was just sick.

These people were sick. Probably literally.

Target was found bathing in piss with some young man balls deep in her. Target was removed from the bath and the young man repeatedly kicked in the corner to shut him up. Just couldn't stop kicking him. Kicked him until he stopped moving. That place. It just got to us.

Target was crying in the corner so we stuffed her in the bag and carried her out.
A few more blasts from the shotgun paving the way. Ambulance waiting out back. Shitstreaks on the sides from people trying to get help from them. Guy stood outside it with a truncheon looking sick.

Throw target in the back and climb in, guy gets in and drives us the f**k out of there. One of us makes the mistake of popping the seal on his hazmat suit. His screams....they haunt me.

Target was dropped off at a rather exclusive and discreet hospital. We were hosed off by courteous hospital staff. Foolish one who popped the seals on his suit spent the rest of the evening as a shambling zombie barely responding to anything. Improved after a few hot showers. Got back to the hotel and packed up to leave.

Nobody talked.
Nobody wanted to talk.
It was just....horrific.

Since the client had paid so much the boss gave us considerable bonuses for that mess and vacation time. Which was nice.
Two guys from the team quit the next day.
I don't like remembering that one. It was truly a horrible one. Smelt like a sewer for days afterwards despite the suit.