Step in...

Appalled at the manner in which Mr Kamp is treating Ms Drew you quickly and quietly take a couple of steps back, then start walking back, purposely clomping your feet on the floor. You take the turn into the room where Nancy is about to get ****, and stop dead at the sight of Nancy crying, and Mr. Kamp’s cock out and pointed at her lips.

“Well,” you start, “Isn’t this an…interesting sight.” You look at Nancy, her tears streaming down her face. “If I may be so bold, Mr. Kamp, it does look like you were about to commit ****. Last I checked…that is against the law.”

“This is not ****, pansy. This is controlling a situation. She practically begged me to fuck her. And that is what I intend to do.”

“No, no that is not what you are about to do. You back off, Or I’m going to be **** to do something drastic.” You step forward, cracking your knuckles as you do so.

“You? What the hell are you going to do? A reporter? I’ll buy and sell your little newspaper a hundred times over. You’ll be out of a job in no time flat.” Mr. Kamp is redoing his pants, and belt, glaring at you in outrage.

You raise an eyebrow, “First off, dickweed. I don’t need this job. If I have to I can go back to my former profession.” You stare at Mr. Kamp as he straightens out a fold in his pants. Nancy quickly gets out of Mr. Kamps reach as the two of you stare each other down.

Mr. Kamp snorts at this action, “This little fairy isn’t going to protect you for long. After I’m done with him, I’ll just have to punish you as all.”

You frown, your anger boiling up, your vision becomes tinged with red as your blood pressure heightens, “Mr. Kamp, you haven’t even asked what my former profession is. That’s not a wise thing to do.”

“You’re former profession is meaningless to me.” With that Mr. Kamp charges at you, rearing his right arm back to swing.

Deftly sidestepping him you bring your hand into contact with his windpipe. Between his momentum, and your own swing the blow is devastating. Mr. Kamp stumbles, crumpling to the floor. Calmly you step over to the gasping and writhing Mr. Kamp. You shake your head, and kneel down. “Army Rangers, bitch. And you know the old saying, we never leave a man behind. Let alone a defenseless teenage girl.”

Mr. Kamp is gasping and glaring at you. He rasps, “You’ll pay…”

You roll your eyes, “Blah, blah, blah, Mr. Kamp. You may have a way of controlling teenage girls, but your empty threats mean nothing to me. Couple of things I noticed. You don’t seem to be overly concerned about the where abouts of your daughter Mr. Kamp. Is there a reason for this?”

Mr. Kamp just glares at you.

“Right now I’m wondering if you had something to do with the situation, and if you had a hand in her disappearance. Perhaps she caught you fucking her friends, didn’t like it and you had to find a way to silence her.”

Mr. Kamp starts to get his breathing back to normal, his angry hateful glare locking you in place. “I had nothing to do with my own daughter’s disappearance.”

“Prove it to me, asshole. Or I will have to call the police about your attempted **** of young Ms. Drew here.”