The Lure of Dainese ...

One-piece leather motorcycle suits really, really turn me on.

Ever since I wrote the "Rubber Biker" story, I've been eyeing Dainese suits - particularly T-Ages - and the itch has only grown stronger as time goes on.

Here's my "ideal" Rubber Biker:

Inner Layer:

A Spexter full coverage suit. This only has mouth and nostril openings. A rubber sheath and codpiece complement the outfit. (Pic here is courtesy of my buddy Matt. I've already ordered one of these and I'm anxiously awaiting delivery!) According to him, the feeling of this suit is incredible, not to mention the ability to see yourself in head-to-toe rubber with mirrored eyes staring back at you. I also plan to add a locking rubber collar to the mix. UPDATE: Got the suit and it's all that and a bag of chips!





Outer layer:

The Dainese W-Frame or Mission suit. I love the cut of these suits, plus I've heard that the leather on them is some of the best in the world. Added to that is the aerodynamic "hump" on the back which also adds a degree of eroticism to the mix. Of course, the suit would have to be in the black, gray and anthracite combination! UPDATE: This suit rocks! If you need to save up for a racing suit, get a Dainese - the quality and fit is unsurpassed!




Boots:

Now, I'm taking a few liberties and going with a white and red boot here. Specifically, the Sidi Vertigo Corsa boot. I have enough black motorcycle boots (racing and MX) if I really want to go the all black route. I think that a little bit of contrast here is going to go a long way! UPDATE: These are some of the most comfortable boots I've ever worn!



Gloves:

Dainese - of course! The Full Metal Racer gloves look amazing, and feel amazing too! Conceived expressly for racing, the Full Metal Racer glove was developed from precise indications of Dainese MotoGP racers like Valentino Rossi and Daniel Pedrosa, and is the exact replica of the glove both champs wore at the end of the 2005 season.

Protection and comfort are key. Carbon and titanium - the highest-quality materials - are used in the composite protective pads. UPDATE: If this is any example of Dainese quality and workmanship, I'm going to be a very, very happy biker!


The Story:

Not 100% sure yet, but I'm leaning towards another one of my secondary characters getting fleshed out. Perry Yamato - Lieutenant Joshua Bateman's partner and lover - seems to be the leading candidate here. As you know, Josh already enjoys double layering latex and motocycles leathers - this should be something that the two can (and do) share!

Threading the Needle

"Bino? Hello? Anyone here?" A small bell tinkled when Ted Estes entered Renaldi's Fine Clothing. He always enjoyed coming to pick up his CHP uniforms from the old tailor. The shop was cool and well-lit - a welcome respite from the hot and humid California weather outside. The patrolman was wearing a pair of snug, worn jeans, and a half-open striped shirt that accentuated his smooth tanned skin and slabbed pecs. The late afternoon sun glinted through the big windows and cast the officer in a halo of golden fire.

"Coming! Coming!" Albino Renaldi bustled out of the back room and peered through his spectacles at the tall, handsome police officer. He smiled, then gave the young patrolman a mock-serious frown. "Teddy! You've been working out more! I think we're going to need to take in your breeches and take out your shirts ... again!!" Renaldi was a short, chubby man with white hair and plump cheeks. He had a small white moustache and a no-so-faint Italian accent.

Estes chuckled. "You always amaze me, Bino -- yep. I figured I'd get the new sets tailored today and and bring in the old stuff for alterations." He paused. "Got a hot date tonight?" He winked at the older man.

Bino was in a dark grey suit and tie, instead of his usual shirtsleeves. "No, I'm off to visit my sister in Genoa. She hasn't been feeling well. I have a cab picking me up in a moment."

"You closing up the shop for a few weeks?"

The tailor chuckled. "Of course not! I got too much business between you SMD officers and Mr. Giambi's men. My grandson is going to be filling in for me. Chance! Come out and meet Teddy!"

"I'll be right out, grandpa!" The two heard the sewing machine stop after a moment and a much younger man stepped out of the back room to put his arm around the older Renaldi. He towered over the other tailor and gave him a kiss on the top of his head.

Chance Renaldi was a powerfully built young man, with a highly developed physique barely hidden by his snug t-shirt and tight black jeans. The sleeves had been turned up a bit to show the muscles in his arms which bunched and moved under smooth, golden skin. A tape measure was draped around his neck. Deep moss-green eyes held a glint of mischief and a bright white smile made his entire face glow. His raven black hair was cut in a mohawk; the strip was about three inches wide and the hair looked as soft as fur. He put out his hand to Estes; the handshake was strong and firm. Ted's mouth had gone dry.

"Hey, nice to meet you! Nonno's told me all about you!"
Ted was amazed at the tailor's grandson. He never knew Bino had any relatives; let alone one as damnably handsome as the one in front of him. At that moment, a cab pulled up to the store and honked its horn.

"There's my cab. You take good care of Teddy and the other officers, okay?"

"Yes, grandpa. Don't worry. Everything will be fine ... you've got your tickets and boarding pass? Passport? Wallet?"

The older Renaldi felt in his pockets and nodded.

"Okay, let's get your luggage in the taxi." The young man put the baggage in the trunk and gave his grandfather a strong hug and a kiss. He helped him into the cab and shut the door. The taxi drove away. Estes could not help notice the firm ass and the brutal thighs of the young tailor as he helped Bino into the vehicle.

Chance came back into the store and put a "Closed" sign on the door. He clapped the officer on the back. "You have two uniforms almost ready to go. Nonno said you'd need some final adjustments. C'mon - let's go in the back."

The two men entered the other room of the shop. Chance grabbed two shirts and two breeches from a rack and brought them over.

"Ready? Let's get these on you and I can do the alterations."

Ted began to remove his clothing. He saw Chance's eyes widen as he slowly stripped off his shirt and began to slither out of his jeans. He smiled inwardly as he saw the other man's tool begin to grow and snake down the leg of his pants. It was huge. He stood before the tailor in nothing but an overstuffed jock and a pair of gym socks. He gave the other man a wicked grin.

"You like what you see?"

Chance licked his lips and returned the smile. "Mmmm-hmmm. Grandpa said you guys are built like Greek gods. But let's get your uniforms taken care of first, all right?"

He held out a shirt to Ted. The officer slipped his arms into the short sleeves and turned around. Chance took the opportunity to run his hands up and down muscular torso as he buttoned the shirt up.

"How tapered do you want it?"

"Really snug. I like it to look like a second skin. Division standard."

Chance took a box of pins off a table and began to make the alterations. When he finished, Ted admired himself in the three-way mirror. He smiled back at the young tailor.

"How does that feel, Ted? Too tight?"

"Nope, it feels great!" He flexed his arms and the fabric hugged the powerful biceps and triceps even tighter.

"I'd roll up the sleeves once to stop that bottom seam from popping ... let's put on a pair of breeches with that shirt ... I want to see how everything looks together."

Chance took a pair of breeches off the hanger and helped steady the officer as he slipped into them.

"How's the waistband?"

"A little loose." Chance gathered the material and pinned it.

"Better?"

"Perfect, buddy. Absolutely perfect."

Chance knelt down in front of the patrolman and began to take in the seams on the legs. He mumbled through a mouthful of pins. "Snug as possible, too?"

"Uh-huh. You got it." Ted took the opportunity to gently run his hand through the other man's hair. It felt like silk. Chance shivered. He continued to softly stroke the head and neck of the man in front of him as he pinned the breeches to his powerful legs.

"How's that feel, Ted?" Chance's voice was husky and shaky at the same time.

Estes did some squats. "These feel great! Better than my old ones!" He looked at himself closely in the mirror. "Hey ... the shirt and breeches look a little different..."

"It's my own design. The seams makes the shoulders broader and waist narrower and it also makes your bulge look bigger ... not that you need any help in that department ..." Renaldi chuckled.

"Let's finish up the other set, Ted." Chance was still kneeling in front of the officer. He gently unzipped the pants and helped the other man out of the breeches. He stroked the naked legs in front of him and ran soft lips down one thigh. It was Estes' turn to shiver.

The tension between the two men continued to grow as Chance continued making the alterations. The officer was trembling as the tailor's hands smoothed over shoulders, arms, and down the muscular back; the tailor continued to drop pins out of shaking hands as he explored the powerful body in front of him.

Finally, the alterations were done and again Estes stood near-naked in front of the tailor. Chance slowly pulled his t-shirt off over his head and threw it into a corner. He smiled. The glow from the desk lamp made Renaldi inhumanly beautiful against the backdrop of the darkened room. Ted stared at a male body of such temptation that he had no doubt Satan himself had laughed on the day of its creation. The officer stepped up to Renaldi and began to stroke the firm, hard chest and drew them closer together.

"Oh, God ..." Chance breathed. Ted just chuckled. His lips tortured Chance's neck and jaw with hard kisses. Strong hands pushed open his jeans and pulled his cock from beneath his trunks. That incredible grip was stroking Renaldi. It was all Chance could do not to start pleading for more.

Ted knelt. His hot tongue snaked out running across the tip. "Oh, Jesus Christ Almighty, you taste like honey."

The whisper shot shivers through Chance's skin. When the tailor looked down, he damn near died. The patrolman was kissing and licking, torturing him with pleasure. Eyes half-lidded, Ted traced the head with his tongue. He was so into it. Nothing in the world existed but Estes' mouth and Chance's cock. Nobody had ever focused on the young tailor like that before. Finally, when he almost couldn't take the teasing anymore, Ted wrapped his lips over Renaldi's head and sucked. It felt so incredibly good. Chance laced his fingers in Ted's thick, black hair. Urging him on with his grip, Chance drove into that blissful heat. Estes kept taking it, more and deeper and harder. Finally, Chance shuddered through his fingers, "Christ, I'm gonna explode!"

Instead of backing off, Ted swallowed him. Stars shot off behind his eyes it was so good. Estes kept sucking until there wasn't anything left to suck.

Pulling back, dragging his tongue along Renaldi's sensitive shaft, Ted teased, "How do you feel, stud?"

Chance had to steady himself on Ted's shoulder. "Like I'm ready to collapse."

As Ted pulled the band of Renaldi's trunks up, he ran his finger around the tip. "You take good care of this ..."

Standing, he helped Chance button up his jeans. "Remember, I get my turn later." The last word was whispered against Chance's lips. This kiss was long and moist and deep.

"You like Japanese?"

* * *
After dinner, the two went back to Ted's small house. It was not long before they were naked and exploring every inch of each other's bodies. Their lovemaking was slow and tender, interspersed with gentle laughter. Spent, the men cradled each other. Estes kissed the young tailor.

"Thanks, Chance - you're amazing. I've never been with someone like you."

Renaldi chuckled. "You don't seem to be out of practice."

Ted got up on one elbow. "The physical part I don't have any problems with. Ever. It's the emotional part. When I saw you, I felt that a piece of my life that was missing just showed up. I've never felt this happy in my life."

The young patrolman had seen the depth of emotion between Josh and Perry; between TJ and Phil - and between Rob and Joe. More than anything, he yearned for that closeness, that intimacy with someone else. With a soft touch, he trailed his fingers in an intricate design across the other's hard chest.

Chance looked at him, a serious look on his face. "Ted, do you mean that? Do you really mean that?" he whispered.

The patrolman nodded.

The tailor took a deep breath. "I've always been close to Nonno and my dad hated that. He never got along with him. I don't know what got him angrier - the fact that I wanted to go into fashion design, or being closer to my grandpa than my own father. What broke the camel's back was when I came out - my dad threw me out of the house. My mother did nothing to stop him. Nonno took me in. And Mr. Giambi has helped me with my education ... I've been ... studying ... in Milan for the past four years. It hasn't been easy for me. I've been so afraid of being rejected that I've kept myself emotionally uninvolved. Nonno always said to me, 'Chance - one day you'll find the man that will fit into that missing piece of your heart. Don't give up.'"

He stroked along Estes' square jaw and caressed around the full lips. "I felt the earth move when I shook your hand today ... I can't believe you said what you just said." His green eyes were wet with unshed tears.

Ted sank back down onto the bed and nuzzled the tailor's neck. "I meant every word, Chance ... and I do believe I've fallen completely in love with you."

* * *

"What's up, Josh?"

Lieutenant Joshua Bateman has asked to see Estes after the morning's roll call. The young officer had knocked on the doorframe of the CO's office and came in.

"Close the door, Ted. Have a seat ...."

He saw the anxious look on the other's face. "Nothing's wrong, Ted. Relax ... I need to ask you something."

"You've heard of the 'C-Ring'?"

"The new fetish club on Broadway and 21st?"

"That's the one. We received some information that it's being used as a cover for human trafficking. We need to get someone in there to investigate. Someone undercover."

"Me??"

"You're a native Russian speaker. And Jaz - the only other cop who can speak Russian - is too well known in the community. The management - and probably the owners - are all Russian, too. This isn't an order, Ted. All I'm asking is if you'll consider the assignment."

Ted thought about it for a moment. "Sure. When do I start? Any prep work?"

"You'll need new ID and some back history. And ... I think we'll have to change your looks a bit to match the profile of a Russian mobster."

* * *

Ted Estes - now Adrik Stepanov - entered the cool darkness of fetish club. He had been a regular patron over several weeks and today - just as when he first entered - drew wanton looks from both the men and women present. His raven hair had been shaved off and he allowed his normally smooth face to grow a bit of dark stubble. He wore a full body harness that accentuated his slabbed pecs and 8-pack abdomen; the vertical leather strap disappeared into a pair of leather jeans which fit him like a second skin. He sauntered over to the bar and ordered a drink.

Adrik came to the attention of the manager several weeks ago when he took care of a rather troublesome patron. The night had began as normal, with the undercover officer entering the club and looking for a partner for a casual encounter. A loud crash made him spin around. A large man - a bodybuilder by the looks of him - had grabbed one of the waitresses and began to attack her. He was dressed in a pair of latex leggings and paratrooper boots. Her high-pitched wail cut through the music pounding through the room.

Without conscious thought, Adrik sprung into action. There were techniques that were taught at the joint training sessions between SMD officers and Lucio Giambi's men that could not be used in everyday situations - at least not by a law enforcement officer. Before starting the assignment, Josh had drilled into him - "There are no rules there, Ted. You have to be as ruthless as a Russian mobster or be killed by one." The bodybuilder was surprised to see the blur that was Adrik grab him arm and twist. The man heard the bones snap in his arm and fell to the floor, screaming. Stepanov knew that the spiral fracture he created would heal slowly - if at all.

He kicked the man with his steel-toed boots in the ribs and snarled at him. "Next time, tovarisch, don't touch the merchandize until you pay for it!" The bodybuilder curled up into a ball and retched.

Stepanov returned to the bar and growled. "Where's my goddamn drink?"

Adrik noticed a well-dressed man walking towards him. He stood out from the crowd in that he was not in either leather or latex. "That was quite a performance, Mr. ...."

"Just call me Adrik."

He put out his hand. "Konstantin Semenov. I'm the manager here. I've noticed you around for the past few weeks. I didn't know you were so ... talented." He had switched to Russian.

Adrik followed suit. He ignored the proffered hand. "I come here for the drinks and the sex. I don't like having either one of those disturbed."

"I do appreciate you taking care of that situation with a minimum of fuss..." Semenov laid a hand on the other's arm - the undercover officer looked down at the touch and then glared at the other man. Konstantin blushed and quickly withdrew it. Interesting.

"Are you looking for work?"

"I'm freelancing right now."

"Well, if you're interested in something more permanent, let me know." Semenov turned to leave. Adrik's hand shot out and clamped around his forearm in an iron grip. He gave the manager an evil grin.

"Maybe we should talk about the management style here..." Stepanov pulled the manager to him and crushed their lips together in a brutal kiss.

* * *

Konstantin wasted no time. Soon, the two were out of the club and entering his apartment.

"Want a drink?"

"Strip."

"What?"

Adrik slapped him. Open handed and hard enough to sting.

"Get out of those clothes. I want to inspect the meat I'm going to fuck."

Semenov was taken aback by the icy command in the other's voice. He began to undress. Soon he was standing naked in front of the leather-clad Russian mobster. Adrik walked around him, nodding appreciatively as he circled the other man. He then undid the double zippers on his jeans. Stepanov pulled the flap down to expose his massive cock and balls, encircled by a heavy steel ring connected to his harness.

As Konstantin watched, the mobster's tool grew larger and more engorged. Saliva flooded into the manager's mouth and he fell onto his knees, wanting to take that dick in his mouth.

"Not yet", he said, grabbing Semenov's head and pushing it to the ground. "Lick my boots clean, uboy." He started to lave the boots with his tongue.

"Lick harder ..." he growled. "I want to see them shine." He ground his other foot down on the manager's head to get the other's tongue closer on his boot.

The hard leather tasted good and Konstantin's cock rose even more. Feeling the boot leave his head, he slowly started to lick his way up Adrik's leather-clad leg, savoring the taste and flavor of the hot material, feeling the heat of his muscular calves and thighs beneath. He reached his balls, and paused.

"I said, 'not yet', styervo!", the gangster said and slapped him again. He directed Semenov's tongue higher, following the rippling muscles from his crotch to his navel, then further up. He took each nipple in his mouth, enjoying the smell, the taste of this man, gliding his tongue over his skin, then along the leather straps of the harness, worshiping his muscled arms. His head was shoved downwards.

"Suck", he demanded and pointed to his huge piece of meat. Sememov followed the order, suctioning the tip with abandon. Adrik grabbed the other's head, holding it steady and proceeded to fuck his mouth until his tonsils were ringing. Fast, then slow, then fast again. He withdrew, looking at his glistening dick, and looked at the manager's greedy mouth and even greedier face. He knew he had the other man exactly where he wanted - he would do anything for him.

Semenov looked into Adrik's eyes and the mobster grinned. Not a nice smile, but an evil upward curve of the lips. He opened his mouth, and the manager thought he wanted to kiss him. He spat in Semenov's face, then bent towards him to lick the spittle off the other's shocked expression. His stubble scratched.

He grunted. "Turn around and bend over, pedik!" Semenov did as he was told, his dick now aching and his balls ready to burst. Adrik put his hand around the other's cock and bent it back. It hurt. He flicked his fingers against it, which hurt even more and the manager moaned, making the mobster flick even harder, bending it back even more, before letting it go. A finger - then two - penetrated the tight pucker. He fucked the other man with his fingers - three, then four, feeling the inside of his guts.

"Nice and tight ...", removing his hand. "... tight enough for a real fuck!"

"Please!!!" The other man moaned.

Stepanov spat on the trembling pucker and rammed his massive ten inches into the club manager in one thrust. Konstantin screamed in a combination of agony and ecstasy. In and out the Russian gangster pistoned; his breathing increased in speed as pumped into the sweating, trembling man beneath him. After a steady pounding, he bellowed and Semenov felt his guts fill with the hot seed of the man astride him. He collapsed onto the floor.

Adrik withdrew and the gangster grabbed Semenov's shirt - wiping the sweat off his torso and cleaning himself off. With difficulty, he forced his still erect tool back into the jeans and zipped them up once again. He threw the shirt - drenched with sweat and spunk - onto the floor in front of the other man. He headed out the door.

"We'll talk about my salary tomorrow."

* * *

It was 3am. The witching hour. That time of night when the city slumbered and a deathly stillness pervaded the air.

A single, dim lamp barely lit the room of the rental apartment. Joshua Bateman sat in a well-worn chair as Ted paced. The undercover officer was wearing a snug pair of black jeans and a form-fitting tank top with the double-headed Russian eagle embroidered in red. Black leather gauntlets wrapped around his powerful wrists and a black leather armband strained against his left bicep. Black and grey soccer shoes squeaked softly on the wooden floor.

"Ted, you've gotten enough evidence for us to go in on the human trafficking charge - what's wrong?"

"Josh, something else is going on there. I'm not sure what yet. But it's much bigger than what we could bust them on. I feel it. I don't want to leave until I find out."

"Are you getting in too deep?"

Ted ran a hand over his shaved skull. "No ... I don't know ... hell, maybe ... I can't tell any more."

Joshua got up, concern creasing his handsome face. "What do you mean, Ted - 'I don't know ' - what aren't you telling me?" He held Ted by the shoulders and rubbed them gently.

Ted was distraught. "Josh ... I know you said when I started undercover that I had to act like a Russian gangster or be killed by one. I'm good at it. I'm so good at it that it's frightening the hell out of me. When I go to work now as Adrik Stepanov - I'm brutal. I beat the shit out of people, I transport the slaves to God knows where - and I enjoy it. I don't know where the acting ends and my feelings start."

He pulled the CHP lieutenant into a crushing embrace. "Hold me, Josh. Hold me. Oh God, I feel I'm slipping away piece by piece. I'm afraid of waking up one day as Adrik Stepanov and Ted Estes will be gone."

Bateman held the other officer and caressed his muscular back as shudders ran through his body.

"We could get you arrested. That would get you out of there with your cover intact. Do you want me to do that?"

Estes shook his head and gave Joshua a wan smile. "No, it's OK. I just needed to get grounded again. I had to get a little of my own life back - even for a few minutes. You can't imagine the headspace I'm in as Adrik."

Joshua thought back to his encounter with the TJ as the Rubber Toy and the things that were done to the other officer. "I think I can."

"Ted, you mentioned before you took this assignment you were seeing someone. It's not another SMD officer, is it?"

He shook his head.

"Is it serious?"

Estes smiled. "Oh, yeah, it's serious. I haven't been able to contact him since I started. Didn't want to risk him or the assignment. I feel ... complete when I'm with him. Damn, I miss him so much..."

"Well, think of him when you start getting scared of losing yourself. He's waiting for you, isn't he?"

"Uh-huh. Last message I left for him was I was going to be unavailable for some time, but I'd be back with him as soon as I could. He left a message back that he's counting the days until we're together again."

Joshua grinned. "He sounds like a terrific guy."

Estes returned the smile. "He is. Thanks for everything Josh. Thanks for being here for me."

* * *

Adrik got into the elevator and pressed the "1" button. The club had been built on over a large subterranean storage facility - maybe a fallout shelter - and the owners of the C-Ring made good use of hidden areas for their human trafficking and other illicit activities. He was alone and bored. The indicator light glowed at "SB3" and would move up through "SB2", "SB1", "B" and then the main floor, "1".

The doors closed and the elevator began to move. Two seconds. "SB2" glowed. Two more seconds and "SB1" turned yellow. Four seconds. "B" lit up. Finally two more seconds and he was on the main floor. He had dropped off some collection money and was heading out for another run when he stopped dead in his tracks.

The elevator took two seconds between each floor. Why did it take four seconds to get between the basement and sub-level 1? Why twice as long? Was there a hidden floor?
Stepanov returned to the club and re-entered the elevator. He pressed the button for "SB3" and began to count. When he reached six seconds, he hit the emergency stop button. The elevator car juddered to a halt. He put his hands between the doors and pried them apart.
There was another floor! Adrik jumped out of the car and landed nimbly onto the hidden level. He turned around and wedged the satchel he carried between the doors to make sure they would not close on him. He crept down the dimly lit corridor.

* * *

The passageway was long, with side tunnels appearing on each side, every ten yards. As he passed one of the darkened entrances, he felt a breeze behind him and a powerful arm grabbed him around the neck. Adrik jammed an elbow backwards and broke the hold. The next thing he knew, he found himself flat on his back with a heavy boot in the middle of his chest.

The man towering over him whispered. "Ted? What the fuck are you doing here? I nearly killed you!"

Adrik looked up to see the surprised face of Chance Renaldi above him.He was dressed in a pair of tight black latex leggings and a black latex hoodie. Thin, black latex gloves covered his hands. A tall pair of combat boots completed the outfit.

"Chance? Why are y-"

"Shhhh! Come on!"

The tailor pulled him up - he was incredibly strong - and the two reentered the darkened side tunnel. They whispered quietly to each other.

"You're Trained!!! What the hell is going on here? How did you get me on the floor? Why are you here?"

"I'm fronting as the DJ at the club. I work for Lucio, Ted. I just couldn't tell you before. Then you went on your undercover assignment and I didn't have the opportunity. Hell, I didn't know the assignment was here. Some of his top guys go through a bit more training than you SMD guys do. It's an automatic death sentence if any of us ever use what we've learned on a law enforcement officer. No excuses. No exceptions. Thank God I recognized you or we would both be dead men."

"What are you doing here?"

"These guys aren't Russians. They're Chechens. Nasty fuckers. We - Lucio's people and some Feds we work with - thought they were up to some terrorist activities."

He looked serious and angry at the same time.

"We weren't wrong."

"What about the Homeland Security? Why aren't they spearheading this?"

Chance scowled. "His Oneness has decided that HSA has to deal with 'real issues' - like hurricanes and floods. If we waited for him, we'd have thousands of people six feet under already."

"What's going on down here?"

"I'll show you."

The two men move stealthily in the dark, around corners and down dimly lit corridors. Soon they came to another junction. Renaldi put up his hand to stop. They heard voices coming from a nearby room.

".... how much do you have?"

"About 15 kilos. That's enough for four bombs."

"Bombs?" Estes mouthed.

Chance nodded. He motioned to the other man to sink deeper into the shadows and wind their way back. Once they were far enough away, the tailor stopped him.

"They're planning on exploding dirty bombs made of Cobalt-60. I don't know if they're all going to be detonated here or they're going to ship them out. I've got to let Lucio know about this and get our guys ready for a raid before they move them. You'd better get out of here. The elevator is down the corridor and two right turns."

He gave his lover a quick kiss.

"Hurry Ted ... you don't want to be missed ... or caught down here..."

* * *

Adrik climbed back aboard the elevator and released the emergency button. Almost immediately, the car descended and the doors opened again on the third level. He pushed the button for "1" and the elevator began its ascent once more. Stepanov exited the elevator and the last thing he felt before spiraling into darkness was a heavy blow to the back of his head.

* * *

Ted woke slowly to find himself tied securely to a chair. Everything ached. Blearily, he looked around to see Semenov and another, larger man staring back at him.

"I told you that your taste for cock would get us in trouble, Konstantin. I should kill you along with him."

Pabiyan Solovyov grabbed Estes by the jaw. "Who sent you here, pizd'uk? Huh?" He balled his fist and smashed into the policeman's cheek; Ted's head snapped back. Almost immediately, a purpling bruise began to form.

Ted looked up at him, murder and defiance in his eyes. "Pososi moyu konfetku, motherfucker!" He spat. A gob of spittle - mixed with blood - dribbled down the Russian mobster's face.

Solovyov hauled off and hit him again. Estes felt several teeth loosen in his jaw. He pulled a gun out of his waistband and tossed to Semenov.

"Finish him off and then toss the body into the acid bath. I trust you won't fuck this up?"

"No, Pabiyan, I won't."

Solovyov grumbled as he left the room and closing the door. "You better not, you sukin syn. We're going to have to accelerate the schedule, now. We don't know who he's told."
Semenov pistol-whipped the captive man, creating another darkening welt on the opposite side of his face.

"Bastard!" He snarled. The manager heard the knob rattle and turned to the door, expecting further instructions from the mob boss. When the door opened, however, a flash of steel flew through the air and Konstantin crumbled to the floor. Ted saw the handle of a screwdriver vibrating in the manager's eye socket as the pool of blood spread onto the concrete.

Chance quickly entered the room and quietly shut the door. He rushed over to Ted and grabbed a nearby knife to release him from his bonds. He grabbed the gun from the dead manager and tossed it to the patrolman.

"Let's get out of here. All hell is gonna break loose any minute."

Ted stared at him and rubbed his wrists. "Thanks. That was amazing!"

Chance gave him a quick grin. "Shitty balance. You should see me with my throwing knives."

"What about Solovyov?"

Renaldi gave him a grim smile. "He's not going to be attacking any CHP officers ever again." He gently touched the bruises on his lover's face. "You okay?"

Ted winced. "Nothing some ice and a good dentist can't fix."

The two heard muffled explosions from nearby.

"C'mon Ted, let's move."

Outside the room, it was chaos. Lights had been brought to full intensity in the corridors and personnel were scurrying to and fro. Chance and Ted heard the sounds of screams and automatic fire close by.

"We're in the basement level. Can you handle a flight of stairs?"

The CHP patrolman nodded. "I think so. Why? Do I look that bad?"

Chance spoke into the combat microphone wrapped around his ear. "Frankie, I need a clear path to the south stairs - basement to ground level. I'm bringing someone out and I need an ambulance."

The two ran down corridors, making a series of dizzying left and right turns. Chance led and Ted followed. Estes stopped and leaned against a wall. His breath came in ragged gasps; his chest felt as if it was on fire. Renaldi stopped and ran back to him.

He gave his lover a crooked grin. "I ... I guess I'm more banged up than I thought ..." Estes slid down to the floor.
The gun slipped out of his hand and his vision began to darken at the edges. "Oh, shit..."
 
The patrolman felt himself being lifted up and draped around the other man's shoulders in a fireman's carry. He vaguely remembered the jarring flight up the stairs and some conversations between the tailor and another Giambi soldieri.

"Frankie, status report?"

"Boss, the lab was secured and the materials removed. We have all the sublevels wired with the Semtex and C4."

"Casualties?"

"Jamal got hit in the foot and Jake has a shoulder wound."

"Not bad. Everybody out?"

"Yep. Just you, me and my crew left."

"OK, clear the decks and let's blow the place."

Ted had fought the blackness overtaking him but finally succumbed. He drifted down into unconsciousness...

* * *

... And woke up again in the back of an ambulance. A handsome, muscular latino was bending over him and gave a big grin. He was dressed in a tight black t-shirt and urban camo pants. His head was shaved and he sported a sharply defined, razor-cut stubble beard around full lips.

"Hey, lindo - you're gonna be just fine. Just keep still, OK? You've got a mild concussion and a couple of cracked ribs. I've taped you up and we're heading for St. John's. We'll be there in a few minutes."

Chance Renaldi came into view, a wide smile on his face. He grasped the patrolman's hand and held it. He gave the latino a soft kiss on the cheek.

"Thanks for fixing him up, Frankie."

"My pleasure, boss."

"You did a great job back there, Ted. Everyone's proud of you."

"Chance ...?"

"What, love?"

"You're not exactly just a tailor, right?"

Chance squeezed his hand. "No. I eliminate ... problems ... for Lucio. Most of my work has been in Italy and Greece. I have my degree in design from the Scuola Politecnica di Design in Milan and I asked Lucio for a transfer stateside. Nonno needs me here with him - he's not as young as he used to be."

"You're a hitman?"

Renaldi nodded. " 'Hey Ted ... by the way, I kill people for a living .' isn't exactly an ice-breaker, is it?"

Estes laughed and winced. "Owww! Don't make me laugh."

"You don't mind?"

The patrolman squeezed the assassin's hand. "Not in the least. As long as you don't mind having a cop for a lover?"

"Nope. Nonno is going to be so happy, you know that?"

"Really? Why?"

Chance blushed. "You're his favorite SMD officer ... and he was hoping we'd get together."

Estes pulled Renaldi's hand up and gave it a kiss. "Well, here's to your grandpa the matchmaker."

* * *

Glossary:

tovarisch - comrade
uboy - male homosexual
styervo - bitch
pedik - male homosexual
pizd'uk - bastard
pososi moyu konfetku - suck my dick
sukin syn - son of a bitch

* * *

I've mentioned before how my characters often take on a life of their own as I begin to write. With this story, however, that started even earlier - at the outline stage. Originally, I was planning on having a traffic stop with the mohawk punk turn into a strip search. Chance didn't even exist at that point. He was just some throwaway character with a completely different personality.

But that just didn't want to write itself. All the pieces fell into place when a buddy of mine had an almost-experience with a seamstress alone in a store. At that point, I knew that Chance was going to be a tailor. I knew he was Bino's grandson, and I knew he would become romantically involved with a SMD officer.

Maybe because of all the turmoil going on right now - economic and otherwise - I don't think I've been alone in a doing some deep thinking and soul searching. I count myself very lucky to have the bf I do - and I wanted to have those feelings being expressed between Ted and Chance.

The elevator sequence. I will admit, that was not originally my idea. I vaguely remember a similar "a-ha!" moment happening on an episode of Babylon 5 - one of my all-time favorite sci-fi shows.

Frankie - the latino medic/mob lieutenant - will also be making some additional appearances - either as a supporting character, or I'll do a whole episode on him. Time will tell.