Thanks for the help (Zako story)


Vivacious Visitor
Hello! Long-time lurker and zako fan here. I wanted to run an RP, but unfortunately I am terminally lazy and didn't want to leave people hanging when I lost interest. So I turned one of my RP ideas into a short story. I hope you like it!


You'd never seen a real-life zako before, but there are only so many possibilities when you see a tall, busty, bikini-clad woman packing a handgun and standing guard outside a mysterious facility hidden at the far end of the beach.

The athletic blonde sentry fills out her pink bikini nicely, with a generous rack and a large, firm butt to match. One leg is strapped with a holster for her gun. As she patrols back and forth, you read the words "BEACH BABE" printed in block letters on the pink fabric tightly covering her ass.

Long experience with movies, games and comic books tells you that beautiful, scantily-clad, gun-toting young women almost never work for the good guys. For whatever regrettable reason, the powers-that-be choose to hire gross, muscley bald dudes for any and every mission imaginable. That means that this pistol-packing beach babe is almost certainly up to no good... and that means an adventure for you.

You creep up to the zako's patrol route, hiding yourself behind rocks and boulders along the cliff face that separates the beach from the land beyond. Eventually you're close enough to see that her eyes are a bright green color, and her nose is pierced with a tiny gold stud.

Her patrol brings her right next to your hiding spot, behind a boulder that suddenly seems way too small to hide behind. You hold your breath, suddenly realizing that you have no plan when she calls out: "Hey, who's over there?"

Without even a moment to gather your courage, you leap from your hiding spot and tackle the blonde sentry. "Ah!" she cries, dropping her pistol as you both tumble to the ground. Quickly, she wriggles out from under you and begins crawling towards the gun. Without thinking, you awkwardly leapfrog from a half-prone position and wrap your arms around the woman's neck.

"Ha-urghk--!" You tighten your grip, intending to choke her out, but her struggles only grow stronger. You give a sharp twist and there's a loud *crack!* "Hurghk....kkhh..." The blonde zako's struggles suddenly give way to weak, undirected twitching. Your heart racing, you let her head go; it thuds face-first into the sand and the woman does not stir. You've just killed your first zako, but the panic is still too intense for you to celebrate.

Now what. Hide the body, right? Yeah, that sounds right. Copping a feel of her round ass, you roll the dead zako over by her hips. One of her tits had popped out of her top in the struggle, revealing a pink nipple; her eyes are slightly crossed and her mouth open, as if the blonde guard were confused by her own death. Grabbing her by the wrists, you drag the woman's limp body to the cliff face and hide it behind some rocks. Propping her up, you undo her top in search of a key or something useful; all you find are her perky, round boobs. Leaving the dead zako behind the rocks, eyes staring blankly at the sky, you take her pistol and head towards the facility.

The facility is surrounded by a concrete wall, but you soon find a section of chain-link fence with the gate wide open. Cautiously you peek inside; nobody is around. The small area is dominated by shipping containers and a small trailer. Suddenly, you hear footsteps and voices approaching! You duck in the shadow of one of the shipping containers and peek around the corner.

Two more zakos in bikinis appear from the other side of the container and stop by the fence you'd just entered from. One is a pale-skinned petite beauty with straight black hair, wearing a red bikini with black trim; the other is a curvy black woman in a daring green slingshot that leaves almost nothing to the imagination. Both are carrying handguns.

"Candi hasn't reported for a while," the pale one says, poking her head out of the gate.
"Whatever, she's a lazy bitch anyway," the other replies. Her considerable assets jiggle and sway with almost every motion she makes, and the string bottom of her bikini does nothing to cover her large, voluptuous ass. "We just have to babysit these weapons till the contact comes to make the buy. We don't need her anyway." The women continue to linger by the gate, talking about money, stolen weapons, the militias that buy them and the other women in their organization; apparently, the blonde whose neck you'd broken was not well-liked and had a reputation for being vain, snobby and unpleasant.

Unfortunately, there's no way around the guards without being seen. Gathering your courage, you leap from behind the shipping container and point your pistol at the zakos. "Freeze!" you cry, despite not being a cop, soldier, spy, secret agent, or anybody with the power to order people to do anything.

The women hesitate for a second. They must be very surprised to see a random beachwalker, looking for all the world like a lost tourist, brandishing a pistol at them and commanding them to freeze. However, their shock fades quickly and they start shooting!

You scream and return fire. Your first several shots go wide, but one bullet hits the pale zako straight in the head; a streak of red stains the wall beside her as her head snaps back and she collapses to the ground. Your next shot catches the dark-skinned zako in the tummy. "Aiii!" she screams, dropping her pistol and collapsing to the sand.

You cautiously approach the fallen guards. The one you'd hit in the gut had fallen on her side and her large boobs popped out of her ridiculous micro bikini. Both her dark nipples are pierced with silver bars. When you reach her she stares up at you almost in disbelief; then she moans, closes her eyes, shudders and stops moving. You kneel and feel for a pulse like you've seen on TV, but the ebony zako is dead as a doornail.

Her friend is obviously dead too. If the dark hole above her right eye didn't prove that, then surely the crimson streak on the wall or the spreading pool of blood beneath her head did. Her grey eyes stare upward, seeing nothing; she'd died before she hit the ground. Fishing around in her top, you find a tiny key. Could this go to the trailer? Cautiously, you unlock the door and poke your head in.

You're surprised to see yet another woman in a bikini, bound and gagged on the floor. The brunette is just as surprised to see you as you are to see her; her eyes widen as you remove her gag. "I got captured over a week ago, and NOW they send a rescue? And just one person?" Awkwardly, you explain exactly how you came to be here, a meet-up point for terrorists and arms dealers, while she only grows more annoyed.

"Fine," she growls through clenched teeth. "Untie me. Maybe you can help and I can complete my mission and keep these weapons out of the wrong hands." You comply, untying the tough rope binding her wrists and ankles. As she rubs the red skin where the rope had cut off blood flow, you look out one of the trailer's windows to the shipping containers. "They said they just had to watch the weapons until somebody came to buy them," you say. "What do you think they--"

You don't get to finish your sentence. With a sharp karate chop to the neck, the freed agent sends you to the ground as your world goes black.

You wake up on the beach, back in the public-accessible area where you'd started the day before your misadventures had begun. The sun hangs low in the sky and it's starting to get chilly and windy; most of the casual tourists had left, leaving only a few stray surfers out on the waves and a single family heading up the steps to the car park.

Shivering, you notice a plain paper card taped to your chest, not decorated by any seals, logos or even a word of introduction. Unfolding it, you read a single line in a serious-looking serifed font: