This story is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to real people, places and events is unintentional.
ANTHOLOGY
You are travelling into an alternate dimension. Do not adjust your connection to reality. Here we find a universe of infinitive possibilities, of extraordinary powers and incredible circumstances. Welcome to the Anthology...
Anthology (VI) – The Spy Who Lubed Me (part one)
Agent 117 goes by many names (Yuri, Max, Major Flemyng) and has special skills that include: infiltration, theft and murder. Also: fingering, frotting and fucking. He is a secret agent with a licence to drill men in the ass and a mission to investigate a billionaire with a nefarious agenda (is there another kind of billionaire?). What is Ernest Sukerfeel's plan?
It's up to Max to find out.
THE MAN WITH THE GOLDEN BUM
It was like a spotlight was following him as he stalked across the room; he turned and then fired towards the hole that clamped shut like an iris.
The man who called Yuri was wearing a white shirt that was open to expose his chest. His dark skin was peppered with black hair between his impressive pectorals and brown nipples and below his navel, black hair trickled into the pubic hair above his erection.
In front of the man was a much younger man. Barely more than a boy really and Yuri felt bad about using him. Yuri had always had a way with men and boys, a skill at seduction that made his job so much easier. And more enjoyable. Technically he didn't need to fuck the pretty little office boy but he was enjoying doing so.
Yuri had seduced the office boy to gain access to the secure floor of building. The building in question was owned by SkyCall Telecommunications. The poor lad was the junior member of staff with high-level clearance that Yuri had been able to find – the young man was quickly identified as a weak spot in the security of an otherwise well-secured building. Yuri didn't want to have to kill any of the guards if he could avoid it – the men securing the building overnight were not like mercenaries employed for other SkyCall security operations. The guards had no idea the kind of scum they were protecting nor how dangerous their boss was.
Moaning returned Yuri's attention to the goldenthighs at hand.
The boy was half Yuri's age with skin that was marshmallow white against his black skin. He was skinny compared to Yuri's muscles and smaller than Yuri who was two inches short of six foot. Joey Havecock was flat on his back on a desk in the middle of the office – he was totally naked, his legs spread wide and resting on Yuri's shoulders. Joey's hole had closed after the initial penetration, the sphincter smeared with precum.
Darkness shone through the window.
The hour was late and they had met by chance (they had not) a few days ago. Joey thought Yuri worked in SkyCall Telecoms too and Joey had been unable to resist the incredibly sexy man when he suggested a kinky tryst in the office.
Forging access to the building had been easy enough – well, not easy but achievable. Forging access the restricted penthouse office was all but impossible – besides a major security breach would shut down computer access to the files Yuri needed. It was much easier to just steal access from a trusting and unsuspecting office boy. Yuri made Joey think it was his idea to go to the office in the dead of night.
Joey reached forward and yanked on Yuri's cock.
It was a girthy ten inches of meat that was heavy in Joey's hand. It was absolutely the biggest cock Joey had ever seen. Pulling on it was glorious – every time Joey thought he'd reach the end of the shaft, there seemed to be another inch. Joey kneaded the head, feeling cock-snot on his palm.
As much as Yuri was enjoying himself, it was time to move. He leaned over the supine young man and kissed him on the lips – Joey had never felt so careless in his affections as when Yuri was kissing him.
Yuri gripped one of Joey's hands an in short order had tied rope around the writs and attached it to the leg of the heavy desk. He repeated the gesture with the other hand so Joey was bare naked and tied down.
"What are you doing?" Joey said dopily – as if it wasn't obvious.
"Shhh," Yuri replied soothingly.
Joey's legs were still free so Yuri could part his thighs. Yuri caressed the young man's legs – Joey's golden skin was beautiful and smooth with only the faintest hint of downy hair. Yuri felt a semblance of guilt that he was using the young man with the golden bum. With Joey's hands tied to the desk, Yuri pressed the tip of his cock against his hole and started to push.
"Oh my god!" Joey whined.
Yuri pushed harder, his head lubricated by spit and precum. Barebacking the office boy was a perk of the job but Yuri never forgot that he did have a real job to do. He pushed and pulled while Joey felt more and more of the shaft slide inside him. Ten inches of massive man cock was more than Joey could ever have imagined taking.
Once Yuri was balls deep, Joey's body nearly spasmed with pleasure.
"Oh fuck," Joey said.
Yuri smiled and pulled back. Joey felt the ten inches pull from his guts, his hole slowly closing again once the member was free. Yuri knelt down and dropped Joey's legs, tying them to the desk too so the naked young man was secured spread eagled in the dark office.
Then Yuri stuffed his still hard cock inside his trousers, pulling tight boxer briefs over it before zipping and buttoning up.
"What are you doing now?" Joey asked with confusion.
"Sorry, Joey. I need to borrow your security pass," Yuri said.
"My security pass?" Joey repeated.
Joey was still dazed an enamoured by the sexy man who'd been fucking him. Meanwhile, Yuri rifled around in Joey's pockets until he found it.
"I'm guessing it'll send a notification to the security office at this time of night but by the time they respond I'll have what I need," Yuri said. "I hope you understand..."
"Wait a second... Did you use me?" Joey complained, his head clearing.
"Yes," Yuri said unsympathetically. "But you were a great fuck."
"You didn't cum," Joey pointed out.
"My cock is built for stamina," Yuri replied.
"I didn't cum!" Joey added.
"If I get the chance, I'll come back," Yuri assured him.
"If you get the chance? You can't leave me like this!" Joey croaked.
Yuri was all business as he turned away, ignoring the protests of the poor boy. He headed for the lifts opposite the main office of the twentieth floor, swiped Joey's pass and pressed 25. The doors opened and the lift travelled up. Yuri looked at his watch for reference but he had a keen internal chronometer that was accurate to a few seconds. He would have only minutes before security interrupted him.
Seducing access this far was the difference between success and failure – security were still going to interrupt him but by the time they did, he would have everything he needed. As soon as the lift doors opened on the twenty-fifth floor, Yuri walked across the foyer and swiftly into the cybersecurity hub for SkyCall – a Telecommunications corporation owned by Ernest Sukerfeel. Mr Sukerfeel was a genius – not the kind who buys technology and pretends to have invented it, or builds exploding transport or implodes a social media platform just by buying it, but an actual genius. The kind of genius who could split the atom or invent an undetectable chemical agent. The Albion Secret Service suspected Ernest Sukerfeel was developing next generation communications technology with implications for national security. For this reason, Mr Sukerfeel was a "person of interest" to the Glasstower.
For all the years Yuri had worked for the Secret Service, he could count on one hand the number of times he had been to the head office – the Glasstower. He spent much more time in an underground office – which was more of a bunker really.
The computer terminal Yuri was looking for was at the back of the office. Yuri wound his way between desks and when he got to the terminal, he removed a paper bag from one jacket pocket and a USB drive from the other. The USB drive was twice the size of the average but it contained a two-terabyte capacity and complex software.
He checked out the desk – it had a computer and its related paraphernalia, the paper bag he'd brought with him, a stapler, a hole-punch, two pens, a pencil, a pad of paper, a highlighter, a tablet and a (half-empty/ half -full) bottle of water.
Yuri woke up the computer to reveal a typical login screen. He inserted the USB drive and two seconds later the computer logged in. Three seconds after that multiple windows and tabs opened as the software accessed the files Yuri had been sent to retrieve.
Steal might be a better word.
Espionage was an even better word.
"Who are you?" asked a voice.
Yuri looked up with his eyes and then straightened up to his full height. A security guard stood in the office doorway. Shit, he must have been patrolling while the rest of the security team were in the ground floor base.
"I'm on-site. Hurry up," the guard said.
Yuri assessed the security guard – he was wearing all black clothing including a stab-proof but not bullet-proof vest. The Albion Commonwealth didn't have a mass shooting industry like the Federated American Republic did. The guard had a radio earpiece, was holding a taser, had pepper spray attached to his thigh and a two-way radio attached to the other.
"I'm Mr Tiedup, and you are?" Yuri said.
"You're not supposed to be here," the guard said.
"I know," Yuri acknowledged, his eyes dropped to the computer screen for a second. "I'll only be another sixty-nine seconds."
The guard was getting closer as he worked his way between the desks toward Yuri. Good.
"Don't think you've got that long, mate," the guard remarked.
Yuri had remarkable hearing – mostly thanks to a middle ear implant for communication with his handler – but he couldn't hear what the guard was hearing through his earpiece. Yuri estimated he would be interrupted just as the USB drive finished its work – plus or minus ten seconds depending on how fast the asthmatic guard he'd seen at the front door was.
"Hm," Yuri replied – another glance at the computer.
Forty-five seconds until download completed.
"ETA fifty seconds," said the two-way radio.
Someone who wasn't using his earpiece. Careless.
The guard was now just one meter away – standing just beyond the edge of the desk. He was younger than Yuri thought from the original distance. He was nearly shaking and Yuri could see the young man's pulse was pounding by looking at his carotid artery.
"Put the weapon down, please," Yuri said politely.
"You shouldn't be here," the guard repeated with an attempt at confidence. "Put your hands up."
Yuri sighed – getting tasered would suck! He turned to face the guard and rose his left arm with his hand wide open. The guard's eyes followed it. Yuri swept his right arm up, catching the stapler from the desk and hurling it toward the guard's face. It connected with his nose and a crunching noise followed.
Blood sprouted at the same moment as Yuri side-stepped the aim of the taser, stepped forward and turned so the aiming arms were parallel to his chest. Yuri wrenched the taser form the guard's hand, dropped it on the floor and then put his hand over the guard's face. As Yuri pushed the young man's head back, his leg caught the guard behind the knees. Hand and leg made a sweeping motion so for a moment the guard's feet left the ground and he seemed to float horizontally in the air before crashing to the floor.
"Stay down, please," Yuri said.
It had all taken ten seconds but his seconds were running out now. Yuri didn't want to kill the guards but hurting them was another matter. He stooped and took the two-way radio and pepper spray from the guard and then picked up the taser, slipping it into the back of his trousers and clipping the radio to his belt and pocketing the pepper spray. Stepping up to the computer he waited impatiently for the countdown to end.
Yuri could hear the lift doors open. He ripped open the paper bag that he'd brought with him for non-lethal combat. The fallen guard groaned and made a wet sound as he breathed through blood and a broken nose. The USB alerted completion. The office door opened and two men filled the threshold.
Several things happened very quickly.
Yuri pulled the USB drive from the computer and pocketed it.
A guard in the doorway shouted "don't move."
Yuri lifted the tennis ball sized contents of the paper bag and hurled it at the doorframe where the guards were stood.
Mid-flight, Yuri jumped onto the desk but before the guards could react, something exploded. It was powdery and perfumed and it went everywhere.
Anyone who says a bath bomb can't be used as a non-lethal weapon has no imagination. The power filled the air, throwing dust in the eyes of the guards who choked and spluttered as they breathed it in.
Meanwhile, Yuri hopped from desk to desk, crossing the room in three leaps. From the final desk, Yuri whipped the taser from his belt and jumped at the biggest of the two guards.
He shot the other guard with the taser – aiming for the neck, just above the stab-proof vest – and then dropped it so he could land both hands on the chest of the bigger guard. Momentum carried him forward so he and the guard flew into the foyer.
Yuri spotted a third guard holding a taser out the corner of his eye and he kicked with his right leg, connecting with his hand and diverting the aim. Yuri landed on top of the big guard, let go of his chest and sprang forward. While Yuri staggered to a stop on his feet, the big guard was flat on his back, the tasered guard was twitching and the third guard was taking aim again.
No time to cross the distance, Yuri reached for his belt. A high-pitched squeal filled the foyer – a soundtrack that emanated from three two-way radios. The guard jumped with surprise (amateur) which Yuri used to closed the distance and punch him in the throat. Yuri yanked the taser form his hand and shot him with it before turning back to the big guard and throwing the spent taser (hard) at his head.
It hit the guard but didn't slow him down.
What did slow him down was knee to his balls and a face full of pepper spray.
All three incapacitated, Yuri went for the stairs. He swiped Joey's security pass to enter the stairwell and leaped down them, returning to the twentieth floor where he had left Joey Havecock. The office was his escape route. Joey was still there; naked and exposed. When he saw Yuri again, he was surprised.
"You came back for me?" the office boy asked hopefully.
"No. If I untie you, they might think you helped me on purpose. So I'm going to leave you tied up," Yuri said.
"What?! No! Please," pleaded the nude young office boy.
Yuri didn't really have the time but he approached the young man and grabbed his dick. It firmed up quickly and grew hot and hard as Yuri jerked it. Yuri pushed a finger inside the young man who breathed heavily and fast as he was pleasured. Joey's six-inch dick was small in Yuri's hand but the man had no scorn or derision about it – Yuri believed it was what you did with it that counted. Size didn't really matter. Joey's dick was topped with a neat pile of pubes but smooth thighs and almost hairless balls.
One of Yuri's hand masturbated the shaft with a finger tapped the young man's prostate. Joey moaned and squirmed on the desk but he couldn't escape his bondage. Joey had been tied up good and proper. Joey's hips bucked slightly as he was fingered and jerked, his balls falling against Yuri's hand.
When Joey came, Yuri aimed the jizz to cover the young man's chest and tummy. Leaving him basted in his own spunk was an unnecessary addition but the boy looked like he needed release and he was already fully exposed.
Yuri wiped his hand on Joey's face, smearing the young man with his own ejaculate and pulled his finger from Joey's hole.
"I really do need to go now, Joey. Thanks, I couldn't have done this without you," Yuri admitted.
"You're going to leave me covered in cum now?" Joey asked.
"You're welcome," Yuri responded.
"What do I say if they ask me anything?" Joey asked.
"Tell them what you know," Yuri said seriously.
"I don't know anything," Joey replied as Yuri walked out of sight.
"They won't believe you," Yuri assured him.
This was one aspect that caused Yuri some dismay. He was an arrogant man, with a hardened heart but he was jeopardising the young man's life. Joey felt a blast of cold air as Yuri opened the window – his dick would shrink in the cold. Joey didn't want to be seen naked when security eventually arrived but seeing him with a tiny cock would be even worse. It was going to be so embarrassing.
Yuri attached a rope to the window frame – once he dropped ten floors, the slack rope would have enough length to take him across the distance to the opposite building. He had a grappling hook that would launch to the other building and then reel him in.
The security in the building opposite SkyCall Telecommunications was non-existent so he'd escape through there with no resistance. The SkyCall Telecoms building would have security expecting him on the ground or the basement garage or the roof – hence the escape via the opposite building.
"Wait! Who are you really?" Joey asked, shaking from nudity, fear and cold.
Who was he? How does a man with many names answer that?
"The name's Tiedup. Yuri Tiedup."
The NIFTY ARCHIVE presents
MAX BIND as AGENT 117 in
THE SPY WHO LUBED ME
Nobody fucks me better,
Makes me feel good, glad and blessed,
Nobody does it twice a night or two,
Baby, you're a sex pest.
I was looking for proof and found it,
You tried to hide it like dark in the night,
But like a haven for hiding fortunes,
The spy who lubed me played romantic tunes.
And nobody fucks me better,
Though I wish two guys would,
Nobody makes me wetter,
Why'd you have to be so rude?
The way that you rim me,
Whenever you suck me,
You feel like magic inside me,
It keeps me cummin'
And I hope you're also cummin'
I'm glad you came like you made me do.
Nobody fucks me better,
Makes me feel good, glad and blessed,
Nobody does it twice a night or two,
Baby, you're a sex pest.
Baby, you're a sex pest.
Written by NIFTYENCOMIUMS@GMAIL.COM
ACCESS DENIED!
Clyde Daer was the third biggest city in Scotland located, as the crow flies, thirty-five miles from both Glasgow and Edinburgh. Together, the three cities formed a triangle of social, economic and political importance. Daer, as it was more commonly known, had become something of centre for power and authority despite not being the capital city nor as culturally influential as Glasgow.
Agent 117 had called the city home since leaving the Armed Services for the Secret Service. London may be the home to MI5 and MI6 but what kind of secret organisation is it that everyone knows about? The Daer intelligence cell was part of the SCION programme; Security Counter-Intelligence Observation & Neutralization was a subdivision of the Albion Intelligence Network, operated by the Glasstower with a black budget and theoretically answering to the Ministry of Defence.
Agent 117 spent an hour driving from the SkyCall Telecoms building in Edinburgh, stopping at a service station half way to change cars and at another just outside Daer to change cars again, to eat and to sleep. He drove into the city in the early hours of the morning, travelling to the southside.
On foot, Agent 117 walked to Daer Park – a sprawling greenspace – and followed the stream that wound through it. There was a bridge over the widest parts of the stream and Agent 117 opened an unlocked gate to approach a maintenance door that looked like it had seen better days. Looks can be deceiving. He pressed his hand flat against the door and it opened. The handprint scanner was invisible, almost as if it was painted on.
Agent 117 followed a damp corridor down slope and opened another door, this one accessed a lift that took him down beneath the Daer Park. It opened into the Bunker – a wood and metal panelled base. It contained offices, living quarters, a laboratory, a garage and an information & operations centre (the IOC). The underground base was generally known as the Bunker.
And a man in his early thirties with brown skin and black hair. He was of Indian descent but Scottish, just as Agent 117 was of African descent but also Scottish.
"Hi Max, I've been waiting. You're late," he said without even looking around.
"Hi Kash, you look very handsome this morning," Max replied.
Max. Yuri. He had many names but he liked Max.
"Give," Kash said.
Kash had a broad Glasgow accent that generally caught people off-guard. He looked like the kind of guy who would sound like a cultural stereotype. Of course, people are fucking stupid. Max crossed the room and handed over the USB drive filled with files stolen from Ernest Sukerfeel's data vault at SkyCall.
Mr Sukerfeel had been causing some concern in the last few years – it said a lot that the man was a billionaire with business dealings in half the world and Max had actually been allowed to investigate him. Usually governments just let billionaires be evil. The Glasstower must really be concerned.
No-one knew what his agenda was – that was the point of this mission – but whatever it was, it was assumed to be bad.
Ernest Sukerfeel was a forty-five-year-old man with six Masters degrees. His Telecommunications company was an international success with subsidiaries involved in some dodgy dealings.
Kash plugged in the USB drive and the screen in front of him began to flicker with windows and screeds of information. Kash tapped his keyboard and squinted through black, square-framed glasses. He was a good-looking man with beautiful brown eyes that Max rather enjoyed looking into. However, Max also enjoyed looking at the back of Kash's head.
"So, what are we looking at?" Max asked, taking a seat.
Max had hoped for some flirting or at least a coffee but Kash was concentrating. Kash Spendpence was Max's handler, a cybersecurity expert, a weapons designer and engineer, and an all-round know it all.
"Are you under the impression that complex data takes only three minutes to analyse?" Kash asked.
Kash was finally looking at Max and the smile pulling at his lips told Max that his friend was taking the piss. Max chuckled in response.
"Pft. I thought you were meant to be a genius," Max retorted. "Also, why aren't you wearing trousers?"
Kash was wearing a purple shirt with only the top button undone. He was also wearing black boxers and nothing else.
"I may have exaggerated when I implied I'd been waiting," Kash replied.
"You didn't imply it. You literally said so," Max pointed out. "You just crawled out of bed?"
"Aye, well, maybe," Kash replied.
Kash's attention returned to the computer and his happy, cheeky face turned serious. He sighed as he clicked and typed but Max knew something was wrong. For one thing, the screen kept repeating the same message: ACCESS DENIED!
"Problem?" Max asked without jest or mockery.
"Ah.... Fuck!" Kash replied.
Max sat back in his chair beside Kash and waited for the genius to explain.
"It's locked," Kash said at last. "I'm pretty fucking clever but this encryption is... unbeatable."
"Are you under the impression complex data takes only six minutes to decrypt?" Max asked.
Kash was unimpressed by dry wit.
"I can't decrypt it. Ever. This stuff..." Kash said as he pointed at lines of code on the screen. "These are indicators of the way in which the files have been archived and encrypted."
It had been a lot of work to steal these files. The investigation couldn't move forward without them.
"And?" Max asked tersely.
"You see this here... here... here..." Kash pointed at various patterns on screen.
"Stop pointing, I don't know what any of that means," Max said irritably.
"Well, this is a nipple, that's a cock and those are balls," Kash said sarcastically and pointed again.
"That's enough sarcasm from you," Max said.
"It's like looking at a keyhole. I know how we can unlock the files but we don't actually have a key," Kash explained.
"Sukerfeel must have software to encrypt and decrypt it, right?" Max asked.
"Right. It'll be stored on the pathweb connecting his computers and probably biometrically configured," Kash answered. "Y'know, he's probably not going to let us use his computer."
"I said that was enough sarcasm, Kash," Max grunted. "What I meant was, it must be possible to replicate the decryption process."
"Sure, I could do that," Kash responded.
"Great, I knew I could count on you," Max cheerfully replied with a complimentary pat on Kash's bare thigh.
"Let's see, all I'll need is about eight years and three supercomputers," Kash added, crossing his arms defensively.
"What did I say about sarcasm?" Max said sourly.
"It's not impossible for me to break into the files but it'll take a fucking long time and I have other things on," Kash said with a defeated sigh. A moment later he mumbled, "But there might be another way."
"I swear to god if this is more sarcasm, you're going to get injured," Max promised.
"No, no sarcasm," Kash assured Max. "There is some pretty awesome tech that should be able to bypass the encryption and unlock what we need. A kind of master key."
"Ok, what kind of key?" Max asked.
"We need a DrNo62 decoder box," Kash replied.
Max smiled happily jumped to his feet. Kash looked up at him, not bothering to stand because his feet were cold (because he hadn't put socks on) and because he was hiding a semi.
"Perfect! I stole one last year from that drug lord. What was his name?" Max thought for a second. "Holesy Shagmeass, that's it... He's dead now. See, no problem."
Max patted Kash's shoulder with affection and success.
"Well, there is a problem... We don't have it anymore," Kash said embarrassedly.
The royal "we" did not mean Kash and Max, it meant the Glasstower or somewhere up the intelligence chain.
"What?! Why don't we have it anymore?" Max demanded.
"We sold it," Kash said miserably.
"What did we sell it for?" Max interjected incredulously.
"For money," Kash explained dryly.
"I said, enough fucking sarcasm," Max admonished for the fifth time.
Kash occupied himself at the computer while Max thought about what to do next.
"I'm going to regret asking this but can we make a decoder box?" Max asked.
"No Max. The DrNo62 is a complex electrobinary conversion tool for algorithmic cyphertext decryption. There are about three in the entire world and we don't know where two of them are," Kash explained.
A key piece of information in that sentence jumped out at Max.
"But we know where one of them is..." Max responded thoughtfully with sudden inspiration. "Who did we sell it to?"
Kash didn't look around. Max could see Kash not looking at him. Eventually, the silence grew uncomfortable.
"Kash?" Max prompted.
"I don't want to tell you," Kash replied.
"What? Why?" Max said incredulously.
"You'll just get mad," Kash insisted.
"I won't get mad," Max promised.
"You will. Go stand over there..." Kash suggested. "...Out of striking distance."
"I won't get mad, Kash," Max maintained even as he crossed the room. "Now, who did we sell it to?"
"Jethro Rendon-Mass," Kash responded - very reluctantly.
Max took it better than Kash expected.
"You're right, I'm going to get mad," Max finally said.
"I told you!" Kash said.
Max crossed the room and whacked Kash on the back of the head.
"Ouch! Fuck!" Kash nursed his head.
"What did we sell it to him for?!" Max said with exasperation.
"For! Money!" Kash repeated himself, pounding the desk to punctuate each word.
"I hate that guy!" Max growled.
"I know," Kash said sympathetically.
"He's a fucking supervillain in waiting. I'd have been assigned to kill the bastard if he wasn't on the payroll," Max raged.
"I know. He's a political advisor. He advised Horace Hump for years and has links to the Risico militia; he's been accused of manipulating politics in three continents..." Kash recited because he'd heard it all before.
"Three continents?! I thought it was two?" Max interrupted.
"Oh boy have I got some bad news for you," Kash replied.
"Fucker!" Max muttered.
Kash nodded sympathetically but wisely stayed quiet.
"You remember I was asked to investigate him? By an independent, subcontracted intelligence group..." Max admitted.
"The DPD, Denego Potentia, the gifted, the enhanced, the SEX Men, the nu-man's..." Kash recited.
Max had worked with the DPD a handful of times since joining SCION but he was never quite sure how much Kash knew about those secondment missions. Probably everything, now that Max thought about it.
His mission with subcontracted intelligence like the DPD needed approval which the Glasstower did not give him when the DPD asked him to investigate Mr Renton-Mass. JRM was too powerful a political enemy with the ability to interfere with the black budget.
"I was told in no uncertain terms that I was not to investigate JRM under any circumstances," Max complained bitterly.
"I know. I understand you even with a ball gag in your mouth," Kash pointed out.
Kash knew all about the DPD and not just because Max liked to talk during sex. The two men went quiet for a few minutes, with Kash leaning back in his chair and Max pacing.
"You're going to steal that bastard decoder from him, aren't you?" Kash sighed and pushed his face into his hands.
"You think I should just ask him nicely?" Max enquired.
"Now who's being sarcastic?" Kash replied.
"Yes, I'm going to steal from Mr Renton-Mass but I'm not going to investigate him. Theft and investigation are two completely different things," Max contended.
After a short silence, Kash looked at Max very seriously.
"The DPD, Max... why are they so interested in Jethro Renton-Mass?" Kash asked.
Kash knew they had asked Max to investigate JRM at the end of last year. The Glasstower ordered Max not to do so, they had also wanted to know why. Kash had declined to ask Max the question at the time, much to the frustration of his peers.
"Functionally, they're an independent, subcontracted secret service for people with special powers..." Max commented.
"Invisibility, mind control, slowed aging, energy manipulation; it's pretty hard to believe," Kash acknowledged.
"Oh, I had no problem believing it," Max clarified. "My parents were like them. They were both gifted."
Max hadn't meant to confess this but his parents were both gone now. It didn't seem to matter.
"You know why they call themselves The SEX Men?" Max asked.
"Because the new kid is really immature?" Kash replied.
"No. Well, yes. But it stands for Specially Enhanced Xenogony," Max replied. "The abilities are spontaneous, not inherited."
"So where do the abilities really come from?" Kash wondered aloud.
"Dunno," Max shrugged. "But I do know that over the years I've seen abilities used for good and evil. Mr Renton-Mass intends to use those people for evil. That's why Angelo and Matt asked me to investigate them."
Max had other suspicions about JRM but he wasn't prepared to speculate just yet.
"It's all pretty hard to believe and I know it's true," Kash commented.
"What's hard to believe is a secret team of investigators and spies with special abilities and hardly anyone in the world seems to know about superpowers," Max said thoughtfully.
"The world used to be a smaller place," Kash said sullenly. "The internet has made information about everything easier to capture and spread. Superpowers are one tweet away from being viral."
"How much do you know?" Max countered.
"Well, one... you told me stuff while you were gagged on my birthday. I liked that by the way and we should do that again sometime," Kash enthused.
"I can't tell if you're being sarcastic or not," Max said sardonically.
"And two, I have higher security clearance than you," Kash boasted. "So I know quite a lot. Special powers, independent intelligence and security operations, they're endangered. Conventional intelligence organisation call the most powerful among them Angels. The rest of the empowered people are nu-men."
The name was chosen a hundred years ago. Nu is the thirteenth letter of the Greek alphabet and the gifted were considered unlucky. Plus, nu-man sounded something like human so someone was just having fun that day.
"And three, I know about your relationship with Matthew Tempest," Kash concluded, taking off his glasses so he didn't need to see Max's amused expression.
Max supressed a smile. Kash was so cute when he was jealous.
"Matt. Yea. He was the first man I ever fell in love with until we... separated," Max confessed.
"Hmm," Kash replied.
He'd read Max's file so he knew exactly who Matthew Tempest was. Kash had also read Matthew Tempest's file – codenamed The Weatherman, he was a powerful and capable manipulator of meteorological forces. However, Kash really didn't want to talk about Max's ex. It probably wasn't relevant to the story anyway. They had gone off track and Kash's job was to concentrate on the mission at hand.
"I don't think you should steal from JRM. The Glasstower wouldn't approve," Kash said.
"So don't tell them," Max said.
Kash was Max's handler and Max trusted him. Head office (the Glasstower) on the other hand were a bunch of dicks who could be influenced by government ministers, their advisors, public servants, diplomats, political doners and probably Santa Clause (who, in fairness, was quite a nice guy); Max was of the opinion that his paymasters should know as little as possible about his missions.
"This is very dangerous, Max," Kash said, putting his glasses back on to look seriously at Max.
Kash had thought about trying to talk Max out of it but Agent 117 could be a real pain in the hole once he'd made his mind up about something. Besides, he couldn't think of a better plan and the Sukerfeel investigation had been designated Level Rho.
"Yea," Max agreed. "JRM has an office right here in Clyde Dar."
"You think he's going to keep the decoder here?" Kash asked sceptically.
"Well, I wouldn't know because I'm not allowed to investigate him. But if I had investigated him I would say that Jethro Renton-Mass has a real estate portfolio in Scotland, and elsewhere in Albion, that includes high-rise offices, a loch cabin, a former air force base called De Burs..." Max was interrupted but Kash.
"La-la-la-la! La-la-la-la! Not listening!" Kash interjected with his fingers in his ears. "What I don't know, I can't deny later. So, you think he'd keep something like the decoder here?"
"I do. I think it's in the Moonscraper. But maybe you can..." Max said and mimed typing on a keyboard.
The Moonscraper was a tall (but not gigantic) building in Daer – barely five miles from the Bunker. It was public record that Jethro Renton-Mass had an office near the top of the building (it was a very expensive property).
"Sure. Can I have breakfast first?" Kash asked.
Kash stood up – he was shorter than Max who grabbed the genius into an embrace and then kissed him. Kash gasped – how he was caught off guard was beyond him. Max was often horny and an extraordinary seducer.
Kash pressed his body against Max's, their groins meeting while passion was articulated by lips and tongues. When their lips parted, Max reached for the buttons of Kash's shirt and Kash returned the gesture.
"If you want breakfast, I have a sausage you can eat," Max purred.
"You say the most romantic things," Kash replied.
Both were bare chested and the shirts stripped off en route to the living quarters. The bedrooms. Kash was only wearing socks, boxers and a shirt – like a lazy Zoom meeting attendee, he hadn't bothered putting trousers on. Max bumped his own bedroom door open with his ass and tugged Kash's boxers down when they were still in the middle of the room. Kash's half-hard dick sprang up while Max opened his own trousers.
"Suck it," Max said.
Kash dropped to his knees. Max had an incredible body with faint scars here and there that only made him more attractive. His dark chest and abdomen were feathered with black hair, with a trail that dropped into his trousers and underwear.
Kash shouldn't be involved sexually with an agent. The SCION protocols were clear on this but Max was irresistible and it was more than just sex, it was... something that dare not speak its name. Kash enjoyed looking at Max's sexy midriff but there was something even more appealing. Kash pulled the trousers boxers down in one tug where they wrapped around Max's knees.
His name wasn't even Max. Not really. Max had so many names but he seemed to like this one the best.
Kash stroked Max's legs as he sucked the man's balls, feeling the half hard dick flopped across his face. Max had washed but Kash could still smell a masculine aroma of dick and balls. Kash's brown hands stroked Max's black dick – the thick and meaty appendage grew hot and hard while Kash buried his face in balls and perineum. As Max's cock got harder, it lifted off and Kash moved his mouth from Max's perineum and testicles to the long erection.
Ten inches.
"Put it in your mouth, Kash," Max said. "Stop playing with your breakfast and start eating."
Max loved seeing Kash's mouth filled with dick. He liked Kash's gorgeous eyes, framed with black glasses and the way he looked up when sucking. Kash wrapped his lips around the cock. Kash sucked the head and then lubricated the shaft with his tongue.
As Kash continued to stroked Max's muscular legs, he pushed the trousers and boxers down to Max's ankles. Max lifted his feet until the trousers and boxers pulled free and he stood naked in the room with Kash on his knees.
Kash started sucking as much of the cock as he could manage while Max pumped his ten inches into the younger man's face. Kash steadied the thrusting by grabbing Max's ass but Max gripped Kash's head, winding his fingers into Kash's thick black hair.
"Oh fuck, that's good," Max complimented.
Kash started to gag and cough as the cock went deeper; Max could see Kash's pretty lips stretched wide as his face was so filled with massive cock that there were tears in his lover's eyes. Max used sex like a weapon.
In fairness, Max used a lot of things like a weapon: his fists, his thighs, his Wanger 25cm, knives, garrotting wire, sonic stunning from his inner ear implant and exploding credit cards.
As much as Max enjoyed filling a man's face with more cock than he could take, he did not take pleasure in face fucking Kash in that way. Kash could not swallow all ten inches but Max wasn't sadistic in his sexual encounters with him. Their relationship meant a lot to Max and so pleasure was the main objective.
Max eased his grip so Kash had more control over the sucking and for ten wonderful minutes, the man sucked the ten-inch monster. Max's balls started to churn and he massaged his own balls while Kash flicked his tongue across the head of the big fuck stick.
Max blew his load into Kash's face. Ropes of cum splashed across Kash's lips but the man was quick to opened his mouth and suck the other heavy volleys straight from the source. It was yummy.
"Come to bed with me," Max said while Kash was wiping the first shots of jizz from his face.
Kash stood up and the two naked men faced each other. Max was still ten inches but Kash's full erection was only six. He wasn't ashamed of it or embarrassed, not even when he was standing next to a massive comparison. To his credit, Max never mocked him for it either. Max was not the kind of man to judge someone by the size of their penis. Few men had a ten-inch schlong but Max was of the opinion it didn't take ten inches to have pleasure, it didn't take six inches. Pleasure could come from no inches.
The truth was, despite his massive dick, Max was one of the most gentle and thorough lovers he'd ever lain with. Max felt the same way about Kash.
"Come to bed," Max repeated as he took Kash's hand and led him to the soft mattress.
"Shouldn't I be working on making sure the decoder is in the Moonscraper?" Kash asked.
Max avoided rolling his eyes at the name of JRM's Daer building – it was one the tallest building in the city but not tall by skyscraper standards.
"Later. Have sex with me first, Kash," Max said.
"Sometimes I think having sex with men the only thing you ever think about," Kash teased.
"Well that's not fair," Max retorted. "Sometimes I think about bondage."
"Now you're talking," Kash murmured as he nuzzled his face under Max's chin and licked his Adam's apple.
Max stroked Kash's biceps and then leaned back before turning his face down and kissing. Max's hands slithered down Kash's back and then gripped his buttocks, squeezing the globes and pulling Kash's groin into his own.
"Oh, fuck me," Kash said, his hot breath on Max's face.
"You know I'm a bottom leaning vers, Kash. You fuck me!" Max replied.
"It was just an expression. Now I'm going to express myself by telling you to bend over," Kash.
"Oh, I like it when you talk dirty," Max replied.
Max turned around and put his hands flat on the bed, shoulder width apart. He spread his legs and bent over. Kash stepped to the bedside table and rooted around for lube, returning to stand behind Max.
"Let me put it on for you," Max said.
He reached around and Kash squirted a generous volume of lube into Max's hand. Max continued to jerk Kash with slippery and sloppy strokes, exciting the head of Kash's erection. Once Kash was good and slick, Max braced himself for penetration.
Kash enjoyed sex with Max, even if it was a professional compromise and he should know better than to cross that line. Yet this was not the first time they had crossed this line. Was it just lust for Max? Was Max nothing but a spy who lubed him?
Kash pressed the head of his cock against Max's sphincter and gripped his cheeks, parting them and using his thumbs to steady his cock as he pressed in. Once his head slipped in, Max pushed back just a little and several inches entered him.
"Oh, yea. Fuck me, Kash!" Max said.
Kash pushed in and out, with each thrust he went deeper. Kash and Max had enjoyed multiple sexual encounters and it had come as a surprise that Max, a big, sexy, black man with an impressively large cock was not an exclusive top. Indeed, Max liked seducing Kash and getting him to do the fucking.
Kash thrust in and out, deeper and deeper.
"That is so good," Max encouraged.
Kash felt his groin make contact with Max's ass and the fleshy smack encouraged harder thrusts.
"Harder Kash. Harder!" Max pleaded.
Kash pulled back and rammed his cock in as hard as he could, his pubes mashing into Max's sacrum. He stayed buried and then pulled back to thrust again. Kash felt his cock leak, spurting prematurely. Only a little but it was a precursor to a final imminent discharge.
"Max. I'm cumming," Kash said.
Kash's hands stroked Max's back.
"Inside me, Kash. Cum inside me," Max replied.
Kash ejaculated his creamy load while still pushing and pulling, deep and shallow. Creamy, frothy jizz leaked out but was pushed back in with enthusiasm. Kash only stopped when the sensitivity of his cock couldn't take it anymore. No man had ever made Kash orgasm like Max before. It was enough to make his legs week, his eyes blind. It was a wonderfully enhanced orgasm from a sexual master. No wonder so many men fell for Max.
When Kash pulled out, Max straightened up and turned to look at Kash. Max smiled and took his lover's hand, pulling him onto the bed and wrapping arms around him. Kash was the big spoon despite his more diminutive stature.
"That was awesome," Max said. "Let's rest for a bit."
"I should get back to work," Kash said nervously.
"Rest, just for a little while. Then maybe fuck again. Then we can go back to work," Max said.
Getting his priorities right.
"You don't let anything get in the way of sex, do you?" Kash said seductively. "Not even a threat to the entire world."
"The world is not enough," Max replied.
THE MOONSCRAPER
The sun was setting, turning the horizon orange and pink with a midnight blue sky meeting it, blending into it like a watercolour of a sunset. Jeffrey lay back in bed and watched it. It was the second most beautiful thing in sight.
The first most beautiful thing was a man. A man he had fallen in love with. His name was Rider Topsman. Jeffrey had only met the man a year ago and thought he was shrewd and calculating (which he was), occasionally camp and very loyal. The New Year had seen Rider become affectionate and warm in a way that Jeffrey had not expected. The last five months had seen their sexual relationship become more intimate.
Who said villains couldn't fall in love?
Rider was after all the chief of security for the vilest man alive – Jethro Renton-Mass. JRM manipulated politicians and policies, he was the chief architect of a right-wing takeover of America and even after that regime fell, he still found work for the Albion government. As chief henchman, Rider was a murderer and an enforcer, a kidnapper, a torturer and a half decent cook.
Was Jeffrey any better a person?
Jeffrey was a mind controller. He used to work freelance and take jobs that interested him – it was an assignment in cooperate espionage nearly two years ago when Jeffrey had met his match. Timmy Kotes – the son of a billionaire business douchebag.
Timmy was also a mind controller – a frighteningly talented one. Jeffrey and Timmy had enjoyed a battle of wills, tested their own powers against each other and grown stronger. Jeffrey knew Timmy was more powerful but each had strengths and weaknesses. They were both useful for a man like JRM and were sought out, persuaded to join him. Jeffrey had been unexpectedly persuaded by Mr Renton-Mass's charisma and presence (Jeffrey was even more surprised that Timmy chose to work from him – or anyone). The job was... boring, mostly. Timmy was especially bored but he was young and had no patience; Jeffrey knew that JRM had long-term goals and they were standing in the calm before the storm.
Jeffrey and Rider had been fucking since the day the met but Jeffrey had fallen in love five months ago and the effects of this on their relationship were both subtle and gross. Very much the same man but very much different. After all, they still worked for JRM, completing diverse and disparate missions to further the elusive goals of an awful man. On the other hand, they cuddled more and made love was well as fucked.
And who was to say their goals were really that bad?
What, just because they hunted down gifted people and abducted them? Just because they influenced the development of valuable but problematic technology? Just because they participated in blackmail? Just because their boss might be plotting world domination or mass destruction? Just because they killed people?
Ok, objectively those are all bad things.
Jeffrey watched Rider who was looking out the window from the seventeenth floor of the Moonscraper. As the chief of security, Rider occupied a permanent living space inside the building (business took Mr Renton-Mass and his team all over the country but Clyde Daer was always their main base). Rider was topless but wearing long pyjama bottoms that made his ass look wonderful. Rider was also barefoot with an inch of ankle showing off his wispy ankles.
"What are you thinking about?" Jeffrey asked.
"Timmy," he replied.
"Well, whatever works for you," Jeffrey said.
Jeffrey chuckled and lay back on his pillows, arms behind his head to show off his pits. He was naked in bed, the sheets covering him just above the navel.
"Not in that way..." Rider replied.
Timmy had a habit of seducing men and controlling them to make them think he was younger than he really was or making them walk around naked but believing they were clothed or making them masturbate during meetings. Timmy was a fun but malicious boy to be around. Good thing he was the twinkiest little tight ass either of them had ever met.
"...though if he ever suggests a threesome, don't say no," Rider added.
"A guy could get jealous," Jeffrey replied.
"You could literally make me apologise," Rider said.
Jeffrey didn't often use mind control on Rider – he didn't need to. Riser was as smitten with him as he was with Rider. Still, Jeffrey grinned and sat up, the covers falling around his middle. His pubes came into view, making his nudity obvious. Jeffrey could see a dent in the front of his lovers clothes.
"Come here," Jeffrey said but he didn't actually impart any suggestion to the command.
Rider came anyway from his vigil at the window. Rider walked with a catwalk-like gait that didn't fit his physical appearance but he also had a gentle, slightly camp voice, that did not represent his character. He knelt on the edge of the bed and kissed Jeffrey's mouth, working down his neck and nibbling his lover's shoulder.
"Why were you thinking about Timmy?" Jeffrey whispered.
Rider didn't answer right away. He enjoyed Jeffrey's body and having their affair in plain sight. Their relationship was not taboo, forbidden or discouraged but Mr Renton-Mass did not approve. Rider was his chief of security and he was expected to be on duty at a moment's notice. Mr Renton-Mass was in London at the moment but would be back in the small hours. Rider rather enjoyed that his boss disapproved; it felt forbidden to suck and fuck an elevator's ride away from the office – they called it the Roundhouse. Breaking rules like that was one of his favourite things.
"I was thinking that there will come a time when Timmy can't be stopped," Rider said.
"Hmm," Jeffrey replied.
Rider was right to worry about this.
"If Timmy was our enemy, could you stop him?" Rider asked.
Rider was still kneeling but his back was straight now as he looked into Jeffrey's eyes.
"Timmy isn't our enemy. We're all working for Mr Renton-Mass and share his interests," Jeffrey replied carefully.
"But what if Timmy decided he wanted to be the one to set the agenda. You saw what he did to his own father," Jeffrey reminded.
Warren Kotes was the CEO of Bus Tracks – the manufacturer of vehicles, engines and transport infrastructure. It's social media platform (BusTraks) connected commuters to each other so they could share routes, advice and anecdotes, and keep commuters up to date about service disruption. Warren knew about his son's gift and exploited it against his business rival, Ellis Blockerberg. Mr Kotes believed he was immune to his son's influence.
He was wrong.
Timmy spent months, years probably, worming his way into his father's mind, setting up intricate controls and mental blocks. He used it to control his father so completely that the man didn't even know he was a puppet. Warren Kotes answered to Timmy and that meant he answered to Mr Renton-Mass. A billionaire with a social media app that was used by 60% of all commuters, controlled by an impetuous and slutty young man. If Timmy had no scruples about controlling his father – he would have even less about controlling others.
"You're worried he might turn on Mr Renton-Mass?" asked Jeffrey.
"Why do you think he keeps you around? To stop that from happening," Rider said.
"I thought he kept me around for my sexy body?" Jeffrey replied.
"No, that's why I keep you around," Rider laughed and jumped on his lover.
The sheet slid away and the topless man felt his bare chest against the bare chest of his lover. The cock inside Rider's clothes was half hard as he frotted against Jeffrey who was totally naked beneath the covers. Jeffrey wrapped his arms around Rider and flipped over so he was on top, straddling Rider and sitting on his abdomen. Jeffrey's ass grinded into the semi-erection.
"Who's on top now, Topsman?" Jeffrey teased.
"Rider by name, rider by nature," Rider replied.
His name was ridiculous but Mr Renton-Mass collected ridiculous people. The rich or influential, the wealthy, the powerful, the gifted... Mr Renton-Mass especially liked the gifted. He had a file full of details about Angels and their powers and the nu-men and their xenogeny enhancements.
"We'll see," Jeffrey teased.
Jeffrey wriggled his bare ass over the soft cloth that covered Rider's dick while his own cock grew harder. Rider reached for it, rubbing and pulling it until it was fully hot and hard. Jeffrey loved the feel of Rider's cock. He loved the taste or it and the feel of it when it slid inside him.
Jeffrey moved down Rider's legs, stepping off the bed and reaching over to pull down the pyjama bottoms that covered Rider's lower half. Once removed, he tossed them aside and stroked Rider's legs. Climbing back onto the bed on all fours, Jeffrey leaned over Rider's cock and took it in his mouth. Rider lay back and enjoyed the blowjob.
His worries about Mr Renton-Mass and the threat posed by Timmy melted away as his lover slurped on his cock. Once his dick was wet and weeping, Jeffrey pulled it from his mouth so he could lick the shaft and then down lower, licking balls and jerking the cock at the same time.
"Turn around," Rider said.
Jeffrey was still on all fours so when he turned around it was like a little dog chasing its tail. It was his tail end that Rider was interested in. Rider knelt behind Jeffrey and stoked the hole with his thumb. He reached over to the bedside table and squirted lube onto his fingers which he then pressed inside Jeffrey's asshole. Two fingers spread the manhole and were then replaced by a thumb. Rider moved closer, pushing Jeffrey's back with his hand so the man stooped lower as he was fingered.
"That's so good," Jeffrey said.
"Wait until I put my dick in there," Rider replied.
Rider continued to thumb Jeffrey's hole but his other hand reached between Jeffrey's legs and grabbed his balls, tugging them.
"Turn over," Rider whispered.
He pulled his thumb out and let go of Jeffrey's balls. Jeffrey flipped over and spread his legs, putting his hands behind his head to expose his pits. Rider pounced on Jeffrey, sinking his face into the pits and sniffing them. Rider kissed Jeffrey's shoulder and worked up the then neck, then down to nibble a nipple. Jeffrey put a hand on Rider's shoulder and pulled his hair so his lover's face lifted; he leaned in and they kissed.
"Fuck me now," Jeffrey said commandingly.
"Yes," Rider agreed.
Rider returned to the well-lubed hole and lined up with his cock. Rider pressed the head of his penis against Jeffrey's sphincter and pushed inside. Barebacking his lover with naked flesh against naked flesh, both could feel the pleasure and intimacy of the moment.
Rider pushed deep and started to pull back when his phone rang.
Rider was inclined to ignore it since he was off duty except it was an emergency ringtone. Duty calls, even for a henchman. Rider grunted as he pulled out and hopped off the bed to grab the damn phone. The emergency tone was only programmed to sound for a select few people, this one was coming from his right-hand man: Buster Nutt.
"What?" snapped Rider.
Rider's voice was too gentle to snap really. He sasheyed across the room, his hips wriggling and butt cheeks swaying as he walked. Jeffrey thought Rider had hips and legs that would not have looked out of place in high heels if he was into that sort of thing.
Jeffrey was already standing behind him, wiping his own snotty cock on Rider's ass cheeks and kissing his spine. Jeffrey hated when duty called and separated them especially when they were in the middle of something. Rider hadn't finished fucking him and Jeffrey hadn't even had a blowjob.
"Sorry boss. Security breach," Buster reported.
Rider tensed and Jeffrey felt it. He stopped kissing but wrapped his arms around Rider, hugging him from behind.
"Where?" Rider asked.
"The Roundhouse," Buster informed him.
No wonder the man had called him. The Roundhouse was a circular floor at the top of the building, a penthouse that accommodated Mr Renton-Mass's living space and office and secure conference room. Buster was the second in command of security and he did not have access. Rider had access.
"How the fuck did someone get in?" Rider demanded with the too-sweet tone of a Karen who was about to complain to the manager.
Rider pulled away from Jeffrey, crossing the room to pull clothes and boots from his closet.
"We think they came in through the window on the west side," Buster said.
The ancillary office and the vault were on the west side.
"How did someone get in through the window on the nineteenth floor?" Rider demanded through gritted teeth, his voice dropping an octave to become something like threatening.
An embarrassed silence followed which meant the idiot didn't know.
"I'll take care of it. Secure the lifts and maintenance shafts and have drone coverage launched to find out how they got in," Rider ordered and then hung up.
"Duty calls?" Jeffrey said.
Rider pulled on black combat trousers and pushed his feet into boots which he sat to tie.
"Yes. I'll kill the guy for interrupting us though," Rider promised.
"I love you too," Jeffrey said affectionately.
Rider stood and pulled on a combat vest – stab and bullet proof. He wasn't wearing a shirt or t-shirt under it so his muscular arms were showing and Jeffrey wanted nothing more than to nuzzle his pits and kiss Rider's lips. Rider stepped forward and kissed Jeffrey goodbye before stepping around him. Rider picked up a firearm that he slid into a holster on his hip and another firearm that he held in his hand as he left his apartment. There was a foyer just outside and he pressed for the lift, swiping his ID card. When the lift arrived his card was needed again to authorise access to the Roundhouse.
The lift climbed.
The lift doors opened into a darkened foyer on the floor above. Rider moved swiftly for the west side where there were three doors to choose from. Instinctively, he chose the office door with adjacent access to the vault. Anyone breaking into this building who was clever and resourceful enough to be able to breach their security must be looking for something valuable.
Rider opened the door soundlessly and then he swept the available space with his gun. Rider quite liked guns. He learned to shoot in the Armed Services, mostly in the Army but he had seduced a few senior officers for secondments to the Navy and Air Force territorial assignment.
In the Armed Forces you learned to shoot whether you were travelling by jeep, plane or car. Rider was a good shot but there was nothing to shoot at in the empty office. The office was dark but he could see by the light of the moon that was shining in through the big window.
Rider moved gracefully into the vault room and stopped immediately because there was a man standing at the vault door illuminated by an advanced piece of equipment – not even trying to conceal himself and seemingly unconcerned with discovery. Rider's eyes saw the man's head turn a fraction so the man clearly knew he was detected.
"Turn around," Rider said lightly.
He'd said the same thing to Jeffrey just half an hour ago.
The man looked over his shoulder and then turned back to the vault.
"Stop what you're doing, motherfucker," Rider said with a raised voice but his light voice failed to convince the interloper.
Max rolled his eyes. He had hoped for a few more minutes but was quite glad to see who had interrupted him. Rider Topsman was a blast for the past and Max wondered if the young man would recognise him. Max had known Rider a long time ago.
"Yea, it's fine. Camptain America is here," said Max disrespectfully presumably to an unseen accomplice.
Camptain America was a short-lived title in the 1980's Sergeant Nation comic book. A stereotype gay superhero who had seen something of a modern renovation as the Federated American Republic continued to emerge from dystopia. The new comic had lost some of its stereotyping but the name remained.
"Who are you?" Rider demanded of the man who hadn't even looked at him properly.
"You got this? Cool," Max replied – clearly talking to someone though Rider couldn't see an earpiece. "Hey big fella."
"Lights," Rider said.
Low light filled the room – enough to illuminate Max who had remotely tampered with the light settings. Max turned around and Rider was frankly impressed. The intruder was a tall and handsome black man, muscular with very short black hair. He was wearing a black combat vest and trousers but unlike Rider, his arms were covered by a tight, long-sleeved under armour.
Rider recognised this man.
"Hey," Rider replied friendly – like they were meeting in a gay club. "Why the fuck are you here?"
"It's been a long time," Max replied with a smile. "Weren't you in jail?"
Rider had smiled at the initial recognition and greeting and then soured at the disparagement.
"Weren't you dishonourably discharged?" Rider retorted.
"Actually, that sentence was exaggerated but officially I was asked to leave and never come back and to stop being an embarrassment to my rank, my duty and to the Armed Forces," Max replied.
Unofficially, his dismissal had facilitated entry to the Secret Service's SCION programme with fewer questions asked, records expunged and less interest in the loss of his once promising career.
"Cool story. Put your hands up," Rider demanded impotently.
It wasn't that Rider Topsman wasn't a dangerous man (he was) bit Max just didn't see him as a credible threat.
"Weren't you arrested for selling military technology to the F.A.R.?" Max asked.
Until a few years ago, America had been not quite an enemy but certainly a hostile to the Albion Commonwealth, the Central European Alliance and... basically everywhere in the world. Tyranny has an isolating effect on a country and selling military technology to them has an isolating effect by getting you imprisoned. (Former) Captain Rider Topsman was lucky he only got a prison sentence.
"I got out of jail," Rider replied. "How did you get in here Major Flemyng?"
Max hadn't been called Major or Flemyng for a long time. Iain Flemyng was Max's first new name – back in the old days before he had half a dozen different identities.
"I remotely hacked one of the drones on your rooftop. It carried me from an adjacent building, I glided to the ledge outside the window, cut the glass... I guess I missed one of the pressure sensors?"
Max's inner ear implant did more than just let him hear, it was a multi-function communication and operational utensil. For example, at the moment it was blocking Rider's two-way communication with the rest of his security team.
"Move away from the vault," Rider said.
Rider punctuated the instruction with the barrel of his gun.
"Sure," Max replied.
"Major, what are you up to?" Rider asked.
Max rather missed the twunky grunt even if he was an asshole, Max would still fuck the guy if he had the chance but there was not time for that.
"That should be long enough," Max replied.
It took a second longer than it should have for Rider to realise Max was not talking to him. The lights in the dark room was suddenly fully illuminated (a single instruction from his implant) with dazzling effect. Neither man could see properly as their eyes adjusted to the sudden brightness. Kash was still using the implant to interface with the vault – he wasn't going to admit it was harder than he anticipated.
Rider needed to see to shoot Max but Max didn't need to see to evade the firearm - he dodged across the room. By the time they could both see, Max was within striking distance. Max lashed out with his fist, battering Rider on the left side of his face with one hand and punching the gun with the other.
Rider's forward-facing aim shifted left.
Max ducked and punched Rider in the groin and then reached up and wrenched the gun from Rider's hand. Rider retaliated by lifting his knee into Max's face. The blow wasn't enough to break his nose but it hurt. Max didn't want the gun. If he'd wanted to kill anyone, he'd have brought a firearm of his own but Kash had suggested that murdering one of Mr Renton-Mass's employees would be difficult smooth over with the Glasstower.
Both men stepped back and prepared for a fist fight.
"How long has it been?" Max asked.
"Who cares?" Rider replied instead of answering the question.
Rider lashed out with one arm which Max dodged and offered a counter strike. Max stepped closer to punch Rider twice – once in the face and once in the side of the head. Rider grabbed Max's wrist, wrenching his arm up so he could punch hard into Max's axilla.
Max's arm went numb but he danced and twisted under his own arm like he was dancing with the enemy and used the manoeuvre to get behind Rider. There, he kicked the back of the man's knee, shoved a foot onto Rider's back and pushed him face down on the floor.
Then Max jumped and stamped on Rider's back with all his weight. Rider cried out in pain and he looked up to see Max moving back to the vault.
"Hurry!" Max said.
Rider still couldn't see an earpiece but Max was clearly talking to someone. The vault alerted user authentication and clicked, opening with a whir of gears and a soft slide as the door vacated the frame. Max pulled the edge of the door to slide it open further.
"Major, stop!" Rider shouted as he got back to his feet but Max didn't stop. "Dick!"
Rider's back hurt but he was able to move and raced across the room to the vault but Max was already emerging with two items. One looked like a large, elongated brick but bright red with ports along one side. The other was a stone statue.
"You came here for a fertility statue?" Rider said.
"This?" Max looked at it perplexedly. "No, this is just to hit you with."
Max thrust it into Rider's face so he staggered back and then Max hit him again, breaking the skin so blood dripped into his eye from the headwound. Rider dropped to the ground, half-conscious, but Max was already dropping the statue and stowing the DrNo62 decoder in a bag that he slung over his back. Max walked through the office to an adjacent room where the window had a hole in it. The room was cold and windy, the window looked out across Clyde Daer which looked beautiful at night. The stars were hiding because of light pollution but the moon could be seen and from the top floor of the Moonscraper, it was magnificent.
A glider was attached to the door fame – the drone that had carried Max from the adjacent building was giving the security team a view of a men's gym a few streets away. Max clipped the frame of the glider to his belt and vest and then jumped out the window, sailing into the night and abandoning Rider Topsman to the wrath of his employer.
Jether Renton-Mass was going to be very unhappy.
THE RIDER IDENTITY
Max landed gracefully a few miles from the Moonscraper and less than one minute from an unmarked vehicle. He drove out of the city, switched cars and drove back to the park. It was quite possible, given JRM's connections, that he knew about the base but that was no reason to be lax. Max wasn't sure what he had expected but when he delivered the DrNo62 decoder to Kash, it was an anti-climax.
"This will probably take hours," Kash warned him – peering at the screen through his glassed and ignoring Max.
"Great. We can cuddle afterwards," Max said and he moved in for seduction.
"No thank you. I'm busy," Kash replied and his attention was locked on the screen.
Max exhaled loudly and petulantly but there was no point complaining. He could see Kash was working on it and doing... whatever it was someone does to decrypt the complex files of a billionaire telecommunications genius with an unknown but concerning ambition. Max changed into regular clothes and left to find somewhere to eat. Since it was the early hours of the morning the only choices were a 24hr McDonalds or a different 24hr McDonalds.
Max ate the nutritious and freshly prepared food which was part of a balanced diet and when he was done, he went home. Home! There were weeks and months when he hardly saw it. Home was a two-bedroom flat with two reception rooms, two bathrooms and a kitchen. The ground floor flat was occupied by an investment banker and the flat above him was occupied by a drag act called Madame Violet Glitter and their partner in life: Gary.
Max opened his door and walked to the living room, stopping the second he walked inside.
He wasn't alone.
Max could see a silhouette on the opposite side of the room but it made no aggressive movement.
"Can I turn on the light?" Max asked conversationally.
"Sure," replied Rider – his unmistakable light voice carrying pleasantly through the dark.
Max turned on the light and the two men glared at each other.
"How did you find my home so fast?" Max asked.
It was only a few hours since the heist.
"I already knew where it was, Max," Rider replied.
"Really? And why would..." Max stopped.
Rider Topsman had only ever known him as Major Iain Flemyng so how and why would he know one of his alias's was Max?
"How do you know that name?" Max asked.
"I was fired because of you, you know," Rider said bitterly.
Max snorted unsympathetically.
"That's a shame. You'll have to work for another bad guy," Max snarked.
"This isn't funny, Max. Do you have any idea how long it took me to get that close to Jethro Renton-Mass?" Rider replied.
"Yea... Wait, what?" Max replied.
For the second time, Max's head was spinning. Who the fuck was he talking to? The Rider he knew was mercenary by nature. The lightness in his voice was gone, replaced almost by the tone of a different man. He stood differently and when he took a few steps, it was no longer the cavorting strut Max had recognised.
"It took weeks of observation to impersonate this pillock. It's taken months more to inveigle anything useful from JRM," Rider added.
"Impersonate? So, you're not really Rider Topsman?" Max inferred.
"Oh well done, what gave it away. The fact I just told you?" `Rider' replied.
"Well, you're still kind of an asshole," Max said.
"I was undercover to get information about who he is and what he's up to and now I'm not because you got Rider fired!" said `Rider' or whoever he really is.
"So, who the fuck are you... and how did you impersonate JRM's chief of security? Rider has been in that position for five years," Max said. "You just said months."
Max had seen some convincing digital genetic masks but nothing could hold up to months of scrutiny from a boss who knew his chief of staff. Rider smirked and took a deep breath. His skin seemed to bloat, expanding grotesquely until he looked like someone had inflated him or he was having a severe allergic reaction. Then, the process reversed and when it did Max came face to face with himself.
The man looked exactly like him. The eyes and skin colour hand changed from a white dude to a black man, he was inches taller and much broader than before. `Rider' had changed not just his face but his entire physical appearance.
"You're... you're one of them," Max said with awe.
`Rider' was one of the SEX Men – gifted, enhanced. He was a nu-man... and a new man. Max thought he looked very handsome now.
"A nu-man as you call us, yes," he replied.
"The DPD sent you undercover?" Max asked.
"Angelo told me they also asked some dumbfuck called Agent one-seventeen but he couldn't continue his mission," the nu-man goaded Max.
"That's Mr Dumbfuck to you," Max (Agent 117) replied, restraining the urge to be more hostile. "If you're not Rider, then what is your name?"
"Cyrus Hyatt... Cyrus Tempest," he corrected hesitantly.
"Tempest?" Max repeated. "You're Matt's husband?"
"We're separated," Cyrus replied.
Max knew from experience that this was what Matt always said too but Cyrus didn't sound so certain.
TO BE CONTINUED...
At the end of the last Anthology, I set up the story of an intelligence agent and a secret mission. It was always my intention to make the reader think that Max was Matt's husband (separated) and then reveal Cyrus at the end of part one. This story is substantially self-contained but it has a lot of world-building and cannon details that will set up the next story. Before that though, there is part two in which we learn what Ernest Sukerfeel's mad plan is.
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Email me: niftyencomiums@gmail.com
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My stories so far:
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/authors.html#jforrester
Complete series: School Exhibitionism, The Symposium, The Embarrassment of Riches, Do As You're Told and A Series of Embarrassing Events.
Ongoing (series): Noah, the Embarrassed Nudist.
Ongoing (interconnected) short stories: Anthology.
Short stories: Aiden's Accidental Autoerotic Assignment, Jogging Joe's Jaunty Journey and Peter's Past Posing Pictures