Prisoner of War

Disclaimer: I don't own the Matrix, the Matrix owns me.

Summary: Isis is just seconds away from getting her head blown off by Smith's Desert Eagle. However all is not as it appears to be as Agent Smith begins to experience something he's never felt before: sexual desire. Things are going to get interesting for the rebel and the agent as they cross the threshold that lies between reality and dreams and discover what is on the other side.

Author's Note: This chapter is written from Smith's POV in second person format.

Warning: There will be some sexual situations in this story that are intended for mature readers. If this is not for you then turn back before it's too late. For all others, please take the time to read and review. I welcome all constructive criticism. I'd like to know how I'm doing since this is only the second fan fiction that I've ever written.

Chapter Two

Stimulating Simulation

You've noticed that the rebel below you has closed her eyes and the corners of her beautifully shaped mouth have curled up into a serene smile. As you continue to hold your weapon against her forehead, with your finger tightly wrapped around the trigger, you can't even begin to understand her illogical behavior. She should be pleading for you to spare her life, or at the very least be putting up a fight for it. Instead, there she lies before you like a sacrificial lamb, ready to give up her existence for a lost cause.

You sigh, resigning yourself to the fact that you will never understand humans and why they do what they do. As a race they are on the verge of extinction and yet they continue fight against impossible odds to survive.

If you were human, you may even bring yourself to admire the rebels' resolve and resourcefulness, for managing to endure for nearly a century after the war. Fortunately for you, you are AI, a superior artificially intelligent being that is free of the burden of sharing or experiencing misguided loyalties, family ties or emotional attachments. Your only connection is to the Source and it has always sufficed for you. Or has it?

Lately, the relentless and yet repetitive pursuit of the terrorist rebel leader simply known as Morpheus has become a tiresome chore. The game of cat and mouse no longer holds the same allure it once did. You are bored, tired and worst of all condemned to continue to run the same subroutines for as long as the system needs you.

Morpheus, your sworn enemy, has been greatly responsible for hundreds of mass unpluggings, causing huge power shortages in different sectors of the Matrix for the last thirty to forty years. He had also been the mastermind behind the great blackout of New York City in 1977. The chaos that had resulted from that single act of terrorism had almost caused the Matrix to be reloaded before the cycle had had a chance to run its course. Thankfully, due in part to the Architect's intervention, the crops lost had quickly been replenished and the individuals responsible, with exception of Morpheus had been captured and executed.

Over the years, the dogged pursuit of Morpheus had proved fruitless. He always remained two steps ahead of you and of your former superior, Agent White, causing you to approach the Source with your concerns about White's lack of effectiveness as head of the agency.

After hundreds of failed attempts to rein in the elusive rebel bastard, the Architect became dissatisfied with Agent White's performance. During his tenure as head of the North American agency, White's sector was proven to have the highest computer crime rates since the Matrix's inception. Hackers and rebels alike ran rampant creating glitches and system failures. The numbers of humans that were being unplugged had been increasing at an alarming rate as rebels such as Morpheus went in out of the Matrix as often as they pleased.

In the meanwhile, you had proven yourself to be an effectual member of the core team and despite your superior's failures; the Source began to take an interest in you due the efficiency in which you fulfilled or even surpassed your kill/capture quotas. The Architect took it upon himself to groom you so to speak, to prepare you for the eventual day when you would have to relieve Agent White of his duties. You had stood by quietly, and bided your time.

Order needed to be restored and threats to the system had to be eliminated at all costs. So the Source decided that a change in leadership was necessary to effectively bring back balance and stability. The Architect had demanded Agent White's immediate resignation from the agency, and then ordered the complete and irrecoverable deletion of the former head agent.

A vacancy was created which you promptly filled and soon the tide had turned in your favor. Rebel's were quickly reminded of the true power of agents again as you had established a "zero tolerance" policy where their kind was concerned. With the full support of the Source, you had ordered more agent programs to be created to saturate the sector and thus increased number of arrests. You also had spearheaded the use of the Sentinels not only for the destruction of the human's ships in the Real World, but to monitor their activities as well. The intelligence gathered by their surveillance proved invaluable and led to not only the apprehension of rebel operatives and their leaders, including the arrest of the Okalahoma City bomber Timothy McVey, but the loss of crops had also been greatly reduced.

The Source had been more than pleased with your performance and you were commended for it. You were also given free reign to run your agency as you saw fit, as long as you continued to produce results. Secretly you had been elated, and took pride in your work. Of course you never revealed to the Source these feelings, because it was unheard of for an agent program to have "emotions".

But you've always known you were different, haven't you Smith? You are not like all the others and you know it. Yes, it's true by all outward appearances; you may look and act like any other agent, stoic, lethal and powerful just as your "father" had programmed you to be, but thanks to your meddling "mother" you were given a processor that not only allowed you to experience emotions, but to also have the ability to evolve and develop your own unique identity. Damn her, why couldn't she have left well enough alone?

No matter, you were strong enough to suppress them in fact you have become quite successful at keeping your emotions in check.

Yes, all and all, life was good and yet…why wasn't it enough? You knew why, the answer was always there, taunting you, undermining your authority at every turn: Morpheus. Until you are able to capture him you would never be satisfied. All other issues were put on the back burner for the moment. The agency in the Middle East would have to deal with their own growing problems, as all of your power and resources were concentrated on bringing in the Matrix's most wanted criminal to justice.

However, much to your frustration, trying to apprehend Morpheus proved more difficult than you had originally anticipated. For every strategy, he had a counter-strategy always managing to slip through your fingers like grains of sand. Slowly your annoyance had changed from an underlying simmering anger to full blown rage.

Then just when you thought things could not get any worse, the most improbable of things had occurred: you could now smell the humans or viruses as you had re-classified them to be. At first it was just a faint odor, bothersome, but not intolerable. However, with each passing day the smells intensified and no matter where you went, or how much you tried to ignore them, the stink wafting in from the decaying city and its inhabitants had become unbearable, engulfing you in an almost continuous state of nausea.

All was not lost however, when you discovered that only the male population let off the offending stench, females on the other hand, whether by design or by accident did not seem to. This now brings you back to the present situation and the female insurgent you have apprehended.

Your mind has been demandingly telling you to pull the trigger – come on Smith, what is keeping you? Why are you hesitating, you've never faltered before?

The grip on your gun tightens as you push the barrel into her flesh further causing an indentation in her forehead. Still she lies there waiting for death, welcoming it with open arms and you can't help but think that you have never seen anything this beautiful in all your days.

Stop it Smith, she's a rebel, a terrorist, a virus that needs to be eliminated, now! Shoot and be done with this. She means nothing, she is nothing, now kill her!

Your hand begins to shake with a slight tremor as you continue to hesitate. Your inner turmoil tears at the very fabric of your being. It begins overwhelm you as you fight the urge to throw your weapon aside and give in to what you've been feeling since the first time you had laid your eyes upon Esmeralda's face. You take a quick glance at the clock on the wall and realize that time is running out for both of you.

Come on boy, piss or get off the pot.

Your "mother's" voice now rings in your head as one her many colloquial sayings invades your mind. You have always dismissed them as the nonsensical ranting of a senile old program, but like every ungrateful child, you now have come to realize that truer words were never spoken.

This sure is a fine mess you've gotten yourself into, isn't son?

There she goes again with her infernal meddling. Your mind feels crowded as her thoughts intermingle with yours. Even though you had removed your earpiece, you are never truly free from her. Thanks to the processor she installed, dear old mom can communicate with you whenever she desires.

Get out of my head "mom". I don't need you!

Undeterred, she presses on.

Oh ho, that's where you wrong, every boy needs his mother from time to time.

Determined to get her out of your mind, you bring your hands up and slam them on either side of your head. The Desert Eagle is still tightly clutched in your right hand as you close your eyes.

Get out Oracle, you not wanted here! If you don't do as I say, not even your guardian angel will be able to protect you from me!

There is silence and then the sensation of your mind being granted its sovereignty again.

Very well, I can take a hint, but if you need me you'll know where to find me.

And then she was gone as you felt the weight of her thoughts leave you.

Slowly you allow your eyes to open only to find the hazel green of Isis's gaze looking up at you with a quizzical expression on her face. The color of her eyes reminds you of a lush and fertile rain forest.

"What's the matter Smith, got a headache?" she asks with a touch of amused sarcasm in her voice. Although she was trying to demonstrate a semblance of control, you detect the slightest hint of relief on her mocha colored face with predominate Hispanic features.

The sound of her voice has jolted you into the full capacity of your senses; quickly you recompose yourself by smoothing out imaginary wrinkles in your impeccable jacket and straightening out your tie. She's seen too much already, you can't afford another slip up. Isis must only see the agent, not the man. Mentally you scoff, man? Aren't we forgetting ourselves, Smith?

Pushing out these disturbing thoughts, you try to concentrate on the grim task ahead and keep focused. The Source needs the data and you must work quickly to extract it from Isis or else.

Isis, your mind sighs. She has been the cause of your internal conflict from the moment you had "accidentally" come across her image on the surveillance disc you received from your informant in Zion. Your obsession for her has grown out of control splitting your already scarred psyche right down the middle, separating the primal spirit of the man that dwells inside the machine.

At first you thought that Isis was just another garden-variety rebel, nothing special really. Your contact in the Real World, who for reasons unknown had decided to remain anonymous, had begun to send you data on this particular dissenter for the last six months. It was beyond your scope of comprehension why the spy had chosen to send this information to you. However, soon enough her identity and the significance of her involvement with your most elusive foe were made apparent to you.

One of the many discs you had received from the rebel spy had contained some very erotic material. At first glance it seemed to be an amateurish pornographic film and judging from the quality and graininess of the images it also appeared to be what the humans call a "homemade" sex video.

Disgusted and angered by the sexual antics of the couple on the disc, you had almost deleted it until something caught your undivided attention. The man that was enjoying the woman's favors was none other than Morpheus himself. You remembered how you smiled, feeling that the contents of that disc had been the lucky break you needed. You had assumed that finally you had the means to get to Morpheus through his sexual partner. Most certainly if you captured the female, then her lover would have no choice but to attempt to rescue her. It was the perfect scheme or so you thought.

You had immediately contacted your informant through an encrypted email and demanded to know about the woman on the disc. As you waited for the informer to produce the goods, you had begun to watch the recording more intently scrutinizing it for clues.

With each viewing, much to your complete shock and surprise you had felt yourself being drawn to the woman and her reactions to her lover's ministrations. The wanton expression on her face, the soft, sensuous curves of her ripe body stirred something deep within you. Even though you knew these feelings arousal and desire were wrong, illogical and against everything you stand for, there was no denying that you wanted her for yourself.

One night, you had stayed late at the office. The day had been a chaotic one to say the least. You and Agent Jones had been involved in a violent gun battle in Chinatown's market district with two of Morpheus' known associates, Switch and Apoch. They had managed to exit the Matrix but not unscathed thanks to Jones' accurate marksmanship. Switch had already made the journey to other side when one of Agent Jones' bullets had penetrated the calf muscle of Apoch's leg just as the rebel had reached the telephone booth located on the corner of Wells and Lake. The injury had slowed him down, but not it was enough to detain him. You had let out a frustrated growl as Apoch had grabbed the phone's receiver and placed to his ear just in the nick of time.

The anger and aggravation you had experienced had you all wound up, and you needed something, anything to release the tension that had possessed your body. After the reports to the Mainframe had been transmitted you had retreated to the sanctuary of your private office and found yourself sitting at your desk lazily looking at your computer monitor once again. A weary sigh had escaped your lips as thoughts of the mystery woman tugged at the inner recesses of your mind again. Quickly and without thinking you had retrieved the recording that contained her image from your top desk drawer, and then inserted it into the disc drive of your laptop computer. You had steepled your long, dexterous fingers underneath your chin and waited for the amorous pair to go through the motions of their love play.

As your deep blue eyes watched the scene you had seen a hundred times unfold before you suddenly found that one of your hands had dropped into your lap and had been absentmindedly rubbing your crotch through the material of your well pressed trousers. When you realized what you had been doing you had tried to cease your actions but found that you could not, or rather would not. The sensation of your own hand on your genitals had made you very aroused and yet disgusted all at the same time. The shame you had been feeling made you despise what you were about to do to yourself, but something else had been driving you on and you were compelled to continue.

As had you watched Morpheus caress the woman's supple body for the umpteenth time, cautiously you had looked around and when you made certain that you were truly alone you had slowly unbuckled your belt, followed by unzipping the fly of your pants. Then you severed you connection to the Mainframe by removing your earpiece.

Closing your eyes, you had allowed your head fall back onto the soft pliable neck rest of your black leather chair. Inhaling deeply, you carefully withdrew your erect member from the imprisonment of your pants. Running your thumb across its bulbous head to spread the natural lubricant that had seeped out of it to the shaft, you tried to imagine that it was her hand on you and not your own.

Slowly you had begun to glide your hand up and down your hard throbbing cock as your mind replayed the scene on the disc. Only this time instead of Morpheus suckling her breast as he thrust his engorged penis inside her, it was you. Every moan, every kiss that she had bestowed was for you, and only for you. Groaning deep in your throat, you had stroked yourself even faster, feeling the tension and passion build between you and your fantasy lover. In your mind's eye, you had kissed her deeply, crushing her lips with your own. You remember that you had imagined feeling her long fingernails cutting deep into your flesh as she had grazed them down your bare back in a fit of unbridled passion. And when she finally reached her climax, it was your name that she had shouted, not his. Soon, you had come too, strong and hard as you imagined yourself being buried deep inside her.

Afterwards, you had sat there; shaking, perspiring profusely, and panting like a rabid dog, as the spell had been broken and reality took a hold of you again. When you had finally opened your eyes you found that you were alone with your flaccid penis in your hand and your warm semen running down in white rivulets on your computer screen. However it had not been enough, it would never be until you possessed the object of your desire. You had felt unfulfilled, wanting more than just a one-sided encounter and the secret shame of what you felt had been burning inside you, and it burns still.

When the informant had failed to provide you with more information you grew impatient with his or her incompetence. Turning to your reliable Sentinels, you soon found out due to the intelligence gathered by them, that her hacker alias was Isis and that she served under Captain Ramses of the hovercraft Luxor. It didn't take long after that to run her name through the Mainframe's database and cross reference it with the list of missing person's reports.

You had eagerly ripped the report out of the printer, barely waiting for the data to finish being stamped on the paper. With your hands shaking with anticipation, your eyes had read the contents of the report:

Name: Esmeralda de la Caridad Campos

Missing Since:July 27, 1995

D.O.B:May 3rd, 1970

Age:29Height: 5' 7" Weight: 120 lbs Eye color: Hazel green

Sex: Female Race: Hispanic Place of birth: Rio Pierdras, Puerto Rico

Mother: Maria Nieves-Campos – DeceasedSiblings: None

Father: Pedro Luis Campos – DeceasedMartial Status: Single

Location last seen: Mega City Walk Mall with suspected rebels Mario Suarez also known as Apoch and his associate Deborah Mallory alias Switch.

The report had revealed nothing of her personal life save for the fact that she is an orphan and that she's single. From somewhere deep within your alpha-male frame of mind a hopeful little voice had said, "Good for me".

Now you force yourself back to the present and slowly bring your lust filled gaze to rest on her face. Although her countenance is stoic Isis' terror stricken eyes give her true feelings away as they dart in your direction. Careful not to make any sudden moves, you slowly bring your hands down from your head and allow your weapon to rest casually at your side.

The fear and apprehension that is emanating from her is daunting and yet there is a trace element of another emotion whose signal is faint but growing stronger with every passing second. Your sensors work quickly to read her vital signs and find that her heartbeat has accelerated to an almost startling rate. Her breathing pattern is erratic amplifying the waves of feelings radiating from her body. Then the results of your scan are in, which surprise and please you to no end. A wolfish smile plays on your lips as one of your eyebrows slyly arches up in a very seductive gesture. You see her shudder slightly, but not from fear, as that small motion confirm what your sensors have already told you: she wants you as much as you want her.

You continue to appraise your captive as your hungry greedy eyes fall upon Esmeralda's voluptuous figure. Despite the pseudo military garb she has opted to wear, you can still discern the very womanly curves that are typically associated with Latin females. The round full breasts, accentuated by the flat abdomen and wide curvaceous hips, attributes that would make any man's heart race at the sight of them are now whittling away at your own defenses.

Your lips still smolder as a result of the scorching kiss from just a few moments ago as your body aches to possess the woman lying before you. The obsessive desire that you've felt all these months is burning through your system and it is taking all of your willpower not to take her in your arms and make her yours.

Again your eyes make a desperate swipe at the clock on the wall and it painfully reminds you that the countdown is still in effect leaving you only 35 minutes to perform your duty for the Source like a good little lapdog.

The Source, you think wryly, everything I've ever done has been for the Source, for the common good of the machine mainframe. Not once have I ever asked for anything for myself, I've never needed to. I've always performed my functions without a word of protest, blindly carrying out every order, fulfilling my purpose without question! But now, things are different, I'm different! I can no longer deny myself of what I want so much! Just this once I'm going to do what I want and to hell with the common good!

Taking in a deep breath, you begin to advance towards the gurney with bold decisive steps. Esmeralda's eyes widen in astonishment and she asks rather quickly, "What are going to do Smith?"

Your long legs have made quick work of closing the distance between the two of you and now you are looming above her once more. Defiantly she looks up at you with those bewitching eyes, holding you captive in her powerful stare. "What are you going to?" Esmeralda repeats, only this time her words are a husky whisper.

Feeling the weight of your weapon in your hand, you put it back in its holster located inside your jacket. Then placing your hands on the cold hard steel of the gurney you lean in close sliding your cheek along the side of her face. The warmth generating from the contact of your skin on Esmeralda's is inciting yet comforting somehow. She sighs contentedly then inhales sharply as she feels your teeth gently tug her earlobe.

Kissing the outer shell of her ear you whisper your reply to her question "What am I going to do to you Esmeralda? I'm going to do something that I should have done a long time ago."

Entangling the fingers of your right hand in her soft mahogany tresses, you murmur to her "Do you know how long I've wanted this to happen? Of course you don't, how could you? You have no notion of what it's been like for me living with desire, this longing and not been able to express it. I've had to conceal it, deceive the very system I protect, that I am still what they programmed me to be."

Esmeralda is at a loss for words, your recent revelations have dumbfounded her, and you can sense it. Afraid that you might not get another opportunity to express how you feel, you continue to bear your soul to her, "But I am much more than that now, certainly you can see that, can't you Esmeralda?"

Lifting your head away from the warmth of her skin, you look deeply into her eyes searching for some understanding, instead her gaze has grown cold, and her body is rigid. Esmeralda's demeanor confuses you since just a few short moments ago she was so demonstrative, welcoming your advances.

"All I see is a cold blooded killer, Smith, nothing more," she says simply.

The meaning of her words did not escape you; she was still grieving for the lost lives of her companions. Two emotions that you have never experienced before now fight for dominance of your mind: guilt and regret.

It's true that you had killed her friends but you were only following orders. That's it, Smith; lie to yourself if you can, but I know perfectly well that today's mission had nothing to do with ambushing the rebel operatives! You committed murder, snuffed the life of Esmeralda's captain and everyone else she cared about to satisfy your own selfish impulses! You are no better than the human refuse that you hunt and slaughter, your chastising thoughts tell you.

"Esmeralda, I-I'm sorry for…" you begin to say before your voice trails off.

"Sorry for what? For killing my friends, for taking the only people that ever meant anything to me since I've been set free? Do you know that I considered them my family? Do you even care? No, of course you don't. You don't know what it's like to depend on someone, or to love someone. Now, thanks to you, I'm alone again!" she screams at you, her words cutting you to the quick. She then breaks out in inconsolable sobs, as the sorrow she has held at bay comes gushing forth.

Instinctively your drape your arms around her still restrained form and your feel her flinch from the contact.

"I hate you! If I had my way I'd blow up every single power plant in the Matrix so that all of you machine mother-fuckers would die!" Esmeralda said between her anguished sobs

You find yourself at a loss, not knowing how to handle a weeping female. You are not programmed to console or offer words of comfort. The only things that you know at this moment are that your desire for her has remained undiminished and that time is winding down. Without another word, your hands cup her tear-streaked face as you bring your lips down on Esmeralda's.

At first she resists you and tries to tear herself away from your hold on her, but as your kiss deepens she slowly begins to return your ardor. Your mouth opens invitingly signaling to her that you want to meld your tongue with hers. She gladly accepts your invitation as you feel her tongue enter your waiting mouth. The sensation of this joining of your mouths elicits a throaty groan from her, as your hands roam the lushness of her body.

With eager trembling fingers you caress her face then they begin to move down her long neck followed by the protruding clavicle bones then finally resting on the swell of her ample bosom. Through the thin material of her T-shirt your hands gently squeeze her full breasts as you marvel at the how heavy and wonderful they feel.

Esmeralda moans into your mouth then breaks contact with your lips to tell you the words that you've waited to hear from her for so long, "Make love to me Smith. I don't care anymore what happens to me. I'm going to die anyway, so I might as well make this my last request."

The sound of those words, the sight of her swollen and moist lips cause you to become undone. Nothing matters to you right now except complying with this human female's request, to her fulfill her last wish and bring your fantasy to life. You immediately lift her T-shirt to reveal her cleavage enclosed in the laciness of a black brassiere. To your supreme delight you notice that her nipples are very erect as they try to poke through the flimsy material of the bra. Luckily for you, the undergarment fastens in the front so your nimble fingers make quick work on unhooking the clasp. A gasp escapes you as your eyes look upon Esmeralda's naked breasts for the first time. You are awestruck, completely enthralled with this vision of beauty displayed before you. Wishing to pay homage you lower your hungry mouth to one of her nipples. Taking in the hard rosy nub into the moistness of your oral cavity, you begin to suckle it in earnest. You feel Esmeralda arch her back in an attempt to push her breast deeper into your mouth, which prompts you to flick the very tip of it with your long tongue.

"Smith, oh God, I want you so badly, but this isn't fair! I want to touch you too, please untie me," she begs with a sexy whimper in her tone.

You hesitate and cease to kiss her breast to lift your head to look at her. The expression on her face is one of genuine desire, but even in your heightened state of arousal, you still know that one could never be too careful. As much as you want to have Esmeralda's hands on your body, untying her would be foolish on your part.

"Esmeralda, I can't and you know why. If I remove your restraints you could try to escape. I can't not allow that to happen, and don't forget, you are being held at bureau headquarters. This building is crawling with agents; you wouldn't stand a chance."

"I don't care about escaping, not anymore. All I want right now is this moment with you. I promise to be a good girl, a very good girl," she responds putting emphasis on the last part of her statement with a mischievous smile.

Goddamn it, why does she have to be so enticing, you ask yourself. Your logic and body war against each other for the briefest of moments, as each tries take control over you. You know that if you untie her there's a chance that she'll do something stupid, but the raging bulge in your pants is willing to take the risk.

Wordlessly you reach into your pants pocket and retrieve the key that will unlock the shackles around her wrists and ankles. You hesitate slightly when you realize that you are still wearing your jacket and gun holster. Removing both the garment and the holder for your weapon off of your person, you set them on a nearby metallic chair away from Esmeralda's reach. Then you proceed with freeing her from her restraints. Once her wrists are no longer bound, Esmeralda begins to rub them in an attempt to bring back the circulation of blood.

Next you unshackle her ankles, one at a time, and then shove the key back into your pocket. Sitting up slightly off the surface of the gurney, Esmeralda gives you a smoldering come hither stare that pushes you over the edge sanity and need. Right or wrong, you just don't give a damn anymore; she's all you want.

Mirroring the yearning in your eyes, Esmeralda begins to shed the outer layers of her clothes, starting with her leather jacket, followed by her T-shirt, tight fitting pants and footwear. All you can do is watch, mesmerized by the impromptu strip tease, as she now is scantily clad in only her black lacy thong panties.

"Smith, why am I the only one taking off my clothes here? I want to see if you agents are anatomically correct or are you all built like a Ken doll?" she inquires impishly.

You give her a smirk as you begin to remove your own garments, revealing your body to her one section at a time. Esmeralda licks her full lips as her eyes take in the sight of your well-muscled torso. She smiles then says admiringly, "I never knew that you were such a hairy beast, Agent Smith. Me gusta mucho."

You return the smile as you muse to yourself; you haven't seen anything yet! You step out of your shoes, and then remove your black socks. Now, standing before an obviously excited Esmeralda, barefoot with just your pants on, you commence to remove the final pieces of clothing that shield your manhood from her field of vision.

After you had unbuckled your belt, you slide your pants down your legs, and then step out of them, leaving you in just your silk black boxers. Your underwear however did nothing to conceal the very obvious protuberance struggling to break free from its silky confinement.

"Hmmm, Smith, is that your Desert Eagle in your boxers, or are you just glad to see me?" she asks suggestively.

With a sly twinkle in your eye you glide the boxers off revealing your impressive genitalia to her. A sense of pride comes over you as you see Esmeralda's jaw drop at the sight of it.

"Dios mió, Papi!" Esmeralda exclaims.

She watches you with uncontained lust as you stride over to her with slow deliberateness. Not wishing to wait for your arrival, she gets up from the gurney and starts to walk towards you. You meet in the center of the room; the heat from both of bodies is overwhelming as her musky scent intoxicates your senses. Unlike the males of her species, Esmeralda smells wonderful. You deduce that it must be her pheromones that are calling to your basic primal male urges.

A sigh escapes you as you feel her warm supple hands slide up your ribcage to finally rest on your broad hairy chest. Closing your eyes you revel in the sensation of her fingers massaging your pectoral muscles. Then a long finger nail grazes one of your nipples, causing a small hiss to emanate from your clenched teeth. Esmeralda begins to cover your skin with soft wet kisses as your draw her into your strong embrace.

The feel of her warm skin underneath the palms of your hands as you caress her bare back is incredible, it is nothing like you've ever imagined. The only previous contact you've ever had with a human had been in the heat combat for purpose bringing about their ultimate demise. How could you have known that intimacy like this existed between men and women? She kisses your neck, slowly, agonizingly working her way up to your mouth. You grow impatient with her teasing and you take matters into your own hands. Firmly placing your strong hands on her luscious bottom, you pull her pelvis in to make contact with your pulsating member as your mouth takes possession of hers.

Your tongues and lips battle for supremacy as you and Esmeralda try to outdo each other's technique. After a few moments of passionate kisses that leave you positively breathless, it is clearly she that has the advantage over you. The way she sucks on your lower lip then slightly bites on it with her teeth drives you out of your mind.

As your desire grows, so does your sense of urgency. Time is definitely not on your side and it will only be a matter of minutes before Brown and Jones burst through the door and find you in a very compromising position with the rebel you are suppose to be interrogating. You must take her now or there will never be another chance.

You attempt to push her back on the gurney so that you can pry her long legs open and bury your aching organ to the hilt inside her warm moist center. However Esmeralda has other plans on how to consummate your union.

With a salacious smile on her lips she says, "Wait Smith, there's something I want to show you."

Your patience is wearing thin and there is no time for games but before you can voice your objections Esmeralda has dropped to her knees before you in a subservient pose. The sudden sweet sublimity of her mouth and lips wrapping themselves around the rigidity of your member catch you by complete surprise and has now rendered you speechless. The combination of her hot wet mouth and her soft hands caressing your scrotum is excruciatingly perfect and force you to bury your fingers in the tangle of her long brown hair losing yourself in the moment. Basic instincts take over as you begin to propel your pelvis forward to shove the girth of your manhood deeper into Esmeralda's working mouth. The rocking motion of your hips has picked up her rhythm and matches it thrust for thrust.

You feel as if you are about be hurtled over the edge of a great precipice, and fall into a sea of ecstasy. Never suspecting for one infinitesimal instant that it was about come to an abrupt and painful end when unexpectedly Esmeralda's teeth bite down hard on your penis.

The pain and anguish you experience is excruciating and with a loud howl you release her hair then slam your hands on your injured crotch, your naked body plummets the floor in a fetal position as you whimper pathetically. Quick as a flash, the treacherous Esmeralda runs towards the weapon you had placed on the chair, picks it up and aims it straight at you.

With a scornful sneer on her lips she yells, "You make me sick! You actually think that I would ever want a bucket of bolts like you? You killed my friends, Smith! I would never lower myself to screw their executioner!"

Feeling bewildered and betrayed you quickly recover from your physical ordeal then effortlessly lift yourself off of the floor. Growling like a predatory animal you respond, "You are going to regret what you've done, you miserable bitch! Of that you can be certain!"

"Not before you pay for what you did to my crewmates you murdering bastard!" she spits back with all of the contempt she can muster. Raising your own weapon against you, Esmeralda then declares, "I have nothing left to lose and I'm not afraid to die! I'll do whatever it takes to get the fuck away from you!"

"So you plan on killing me and waltz out of here, Isis? As I told you before, you don't stand a snowball's chance in hell! Go ahead, fire the gun. You'll be dead before you get chance to empty the chamber." You look at the clock once more. Shit, only ten minutes to spare.

A strange expression washes over Esmeralda's face, as her green eyes lock on yours.

"Well, Smith I can't argue with your machine's logic. Once again you're right. Adios, Agent Smith."

Her words resonate with finality and you soon realize to your own horror what her true intentions are.

As she places the muzzle of the Desert Eagle to her temple, her finger wraps tightly around the trigger. You start to run towards Esmeralda with an agent's velocity in an attempt to stop her from firing the firearm.

Almost there, almost there, you tell yourself as your legs pump faster. Your hand stretches out in front of you as you try to make a grab for the weapon, but despite your best efforts, you are already too late.

With triumph sparkling in the emerald colored pools of her eyes, Esmeralda squeezes the trigger. You hear the unmistakable sound of a shot being fired followed by your grief-stricken cry, "Esmeralda, no! Oh my God, no!"

End Chapter Two