"I think you look like Perseus."
Charlie trailed his fingers across Mateo's forehead and brought their lips together for a gentle kiss. The naked men were entwined around each other in the large bed; the snowy white sheets were pulled down to expose the tanned and chiseled physiques and powerful arms; their mirror image tattoos flexed and twisted on their deltoids as they snuggled into a closer embrace.
Castillion had let his beard grow out and the silky darkness rubbed softly against his lover's square jaw; the policeman breathed in the sweet, clean scent of the soft, brown hair that tickled his nose. Mateo's bright green eyes gleamed in the morning light.
Mateo grinned at his lover. "And why is that, Officer Hawke?"
"Well, Mattie ..." Hawke kissed the Spaniard's neck and started a trail down the smooth chest. "you are the slayer of gorgons ..." The policeman raised deep blue eyes and grinned. "... for which I love you more and more each day..." He continued his travels, following the trail thru the rock-hard six pack and pulled the sheets down to expose his lover's thickening prong. He gave the tip a delicate lick and then took his lover deep into his throat.
Had Charlie looked at his partner at that instant, he would have been shocked to see the feral anger sweep across the handsome face and a murderous gleam blaze thru the emerald eyes.
Mateo's back arched in pleasure as he stiffened under Hawke's ministrations. He stroked the back of his lover's neck and shoulders as the policeman brought him to the edge of eruption.
There's still one left, amor ... and for you I will hold his beating heart in my hand as together we watch him die ...
Black stars swam in front of Mateo’s eyes as the climax exploded throughout his body. He fell back onto the pillows – spent – as his lover snuggled back up to him. He could taste a bit of himself on Charlie’s lips and smiled – here was a man who could literally fuck him to death and he would greet that oblivion with open arms.
“Charlie, I have to go to Mykonos for a week or so … will you come with me? I want you to meet my uncle.”
The blue-eyed Hawke blinked. “I’d love to, Mattie, but are they okay with me and you … I mean … us? Together? I don’t want to cause you any trouble…”
Mateo laughed. “Hardly, sweetheart. It runs in the family…”
* * *
Ben Van Sant leaned back into the molded plastic seat and twisted. The seats in the waiting area at Trivandrum International Airport were just as shitty and uncomfortable as everywhere else in the world – he grumbled to himself – but at least the sale had gone well and his bank accounts in Lichtenstein had fattened appreciably. He was looking forward to Johannesburg, and the connecting flight through Jeddah was always a pleasure for him.
* * *
The arms dealer had sold over ten thousand land mines to General Jaiman Singh for use along a particularly well-trodden route known to radical Islamists illegally crossing in from the hinterlands. The Indian government, of course, would have been horrified by the purchase and the carnage it would cause had they been aware of it, but General Singh’s reputation for achieving their objectives provided him with a good deal of immunity as to how they were actually accomplished.
Officials who made more than cursory inquiries about the general often vanished or were found inexplicably murdered.
And no investigations were ever carried out.
The arms dealer was dressed in a racer-back black tank that only accentuated the powerful golden expanse of his slabbed pectorals and well-developed arms; a pair of faded Levis – worn nearly white in some areas – were stretched obscenely over his muscled ass and quads.
Singh was a strikingly handsome man in his early forties with but a few strands of silver threaded through his thick, dark hair. Ben had watched in amusement as the military man tried to stifle the incipient lust that was growing within him as they arrived at warehouse where the munitions were stored.
The general was also out of uniform – a dark t-shirt was stretched tightly over his broad muscular chest and dark jeans hugged his powerful legs and accented the heavy package at his crotch.
“I’m also including 3 metric tons of ball bearings with your purchase, General. No charge. You’ll find that if they are placed on top of the mines when you bury them, the destructive force is quadrupled. You'll have limbs and bodies shredded like tala gosht.” (hot shredded meat, ed.)
Ben grinned at Singh and the general returned the expression. Van Sant could tell that among other things, the military man was powerfully aroused by the destructive power described to him and watched as his cock slithered further down the leg of his jeans.
The general clapped him on the shoulder. “I think this is the beginning of an excellent working relationship, Mr. Van Sant.”
Ben snaked a muscled arm around the trim waist of the general and pulled them together. “Oh, I think we’re ready to establish a more … personal … rapport, sir…” Van Sant gave Singh a deep kiss as their crotches ground together.
The general had tensed momentarily, but soon their tongues were dueling for supremacy as Singh’s arm traveled down Van Sant’s powerful back and squeezed the muscled ass. Singh pulled them even tighter. He gave the young arms dealer a brilliant white smile.
“I see that you are an excellent judge of character as well…”
Ben slid his hand under the thin material and stroked the general’s back; Singh shivered under the delicate onslaught. The young ex-soldier grinned as he gazed into the hungry, dark eyes of the military man.
“General, I pride myself on being aware of my customers’ wants and ... needs … I’m also including a box of Russian surplus grenades – very well known to be used by Pakistani terrorists – for any … ahhh, impediments … to your future plans, sir.” The chestnut-haired man brushed lips along the hard line of the general's jaw and kissed the soft hollow at the base of his neck.
Singh’s voice was ragged with lust. “Y-you are indeed a pleasure to work with, Mr. Van Sant…”
“Please call me Ben, sir.” He gave the general’s ear a delicate lick as his hand slipped into the other’s jeans and gave the engorged package a firm squeeze; he chuckled. “Besides, I think we have some rather significant business to attend to.”
* * *
The arms dealer stood up and stretched – he felt his neck “pop” as he rotated it to ease out the kinks and sauntered over to the concession stand near the gate. The clerk was a beautiful young woman with her dark hair tumbling over her shoulders.
“May I help you with something, sir?”
He smiled at her. “Yeah. You have any cold juice?”
“We have Frooti, sir … mango juice … very refreshing … would you like that?”
“Sounds good. Thanks.”
She began to pour the juice into a chilled glass. Ben held up his hand.
"Sealed bottle, please."
"Certainly, sir. No problem."
The young woman turned to the refrigerator behind her and slid open the glass door. She pulled out a liter bottle with a screwcap and handed Van Sant the drink.
The arms dealer broke the seal and took a swig from the bottle. His eyes widened. “Hey, this is good!”
The clerk beamed. “It’s a very popular beverage!! Sweet and nutritious!! Enjoy it, sir!”
As Van Sant walked back to his seat, the clerk picked up a cellphone and and made a short, but quiet call.
She watched as Ben returned to his seat and continued to drink the juice. In a few moments, he slumped sideways – unconscious – and the half-empty bottle fell from his hand. Shortly thereafter, two airport workers lifted him into a wheelchair and he vanished from sight.
* * *
Charlie was surprised when Mateo drove them directly to MacArthur airport and even more so when he pulled up to a waiting Gulfstream G550 with the blue and white Kriatos logo on its tail. The pilot came out of the open door and gave Castillion a strong hug as the mechanics stowed the luggage.
He was about 5’10” tall, with a deep tan and his dark blonde hair was pulled back into a thick ponytail held in place with a golden ring. A crisp white shirt was half-open to show a strongly muscled chest and the sleeves were rolled up to show powerful forearms; a heavy stainless steel Tag-Heuer watch encircled one wrist and the other was covered with a dagger sheath of black leather. A paddle holster was tucked into the small of his back and to Hawke’s trained eye, what looked like a Heckler&Koch P301 peeked above the waistband of the tight jeans. Jeez, Mattie doesn’t fuck around.
“No one else, Mr. Castillion?”
“No, Ori – just the two of us. Charlie, this is Orestes Galinis – my security chief and one of my best pilots. Ori, this is Charlie Hawke – my partner.”
Galinis grinned and gave Charlie a powerful hug. “Mateo … Mr. Castillion – talks about you all the time! It’s a pleasure to finally meet you! Come aboard!”
The three men entered the plane. Charlie and Mateo settled themselves into the plush leather seats as Orestes went forward to the cockpit to complete the pre-flight check.
“How long will we be in the air, Ori?” The Spaniard reached over to the refrigerator built into the cabin wall and pulled out two bottles of water. He tossed one to Charlie.
“About two and a half to three hours, sir, taking into account the headwinds. We’ll land directly on Mykonos.”
Charlie did a quick calculation in his head. “That’s pretty quick. How fast will we be traveling?”
Galinis called back from the cockpit. “Cruising speed is a little under Mach 1. About 2100 miles per hour.”
Mateo laughed. “This plane has engines that make fighter jets look slow. Plus …” He winked. “… we have afterburners when we’re in a hurry.”
Ori cleared his throat. “OK, fellas. Strap in. We’ve got clearance from the tower.”
The sleek jet taxied down the runway and lifted off into the darkening sky.
* * *
“You’re keeping him hydrated?” The older man looked at the unconscious form of Ben Van Sant shackled to the heavy wooden chair.
The younger man nodded, intense dark eyes following the intravenous tubing. “As well as glucose and protein. Plus the sedative. As soon as I stop the anemoi, he’ll begin to go into withdrawal. Within half an hour, he’ll be in excruciating pain."
He chuckled. "I want him to be healthy before he dies.”
The older man smiled. “Good. Mateo will have quite a pleasant surprise when he arrives.”
* * *
“That’s strange …” Travis Burke muttered to himself as he tapped his fingers on the desk reviewing the recent online activity reports. “Van Sant missed his meeting with the black marketers in Johannesburg."
LOKI, can you check on Ben Van Sant’s beacon and hook me into BODHI?
Sure thing, Travis. Hold on a moment.
A quarter of the screen dissolved to show the darkly handsome Desi avatar of Giambi’s sentient computer network. He was dressed in a half-open black shirt that was pulled over his powerful physique and snug black trousers. He was sitting on a couch.
“Heya, Lieutenant– what’s up? What can I do for you?”
“BODHI, one of our informants missed a very important meeting. Can you look around and see if you have any recent activity on him?”
“Sure. No problem.” The powerful muscles in the avatar’s arms popped into obscene definition as he leaned back and put them behind his head and closed his eyes. A small frown crossed his face as he sat back up.
“Last activity shows him at the international airport in Kerala, India. He purchased a ticket on Emirates Air to Jeddah, with a connecting flight to Johannesburg. Hmmm … I’ve got some security camera footage, too. I think we may have a problem.”
Another part of the screen displayed a somewhat grainy, but recognizable Van Sant; he was seen drinking from a bottle in the waiting area near a gate, passing out and being carted away in a wheelchair.
“He never made the original flight, I have no record of him taking a later one, and for that matter, no one matching his description has been admitted to any medical facility.”
“Can you send that info over to ODIN, please?”
“Done.” The avatar looked concerned. “Anything else I can help you with, sir?”
Travis sighed. Shit. “No, that’s all for now. Thanks for your help.”
“Any time, Lieutenant!” The desi winked as he faded from the screen.
LOKI, the self-aware computer that was part of him, cleared his throat.
I have the beacon reports, Travis. We’ve been picking up his lifesign marker from the same location for the past three days. He’s alive, but he hasn’t moved at all.
Where is it coming from?
Mykonos. In Greece.
Okay, ask your dad to send off one of his microprobes to get a look-see. And set up a meeting with Colonel Morgan. I have a feeling we’re gonna need to do a smash and grab rescue.
* * *
A puff of cooler air accompanied the tiny wormhole as ODIN’s microprobe entered the darkened room. No larger than a pea, the probe made a pass over the unconscious body of Van Sant and then nestled itself into the juncture where wall met ceiling. The probe’s skin morphed and blended into the off-white stucco of its surroundings and then it began transmissions back to the Castle.
* * *
Charlie had put in a full shift before leaving, and he soon found his head in Mateo’s lap with the Spaniard gently running long fingers through the short, black hair. He had dozed off and slowly woke up to find bright sunlight shining through the cabin windows and into his face.
Castillion smiled as he traced around the sensuous lips of his lover. “We’ll be landing in a few moments, amor. You should take a look – the island is particularly lovely today.”
Hawke sat up as the plane banked and he was struck by the clear sky, azure water and stark brightness of the island. White houses dotted the landscape and his eyes widened as he saw some surprising structures turning on the shore.
“Windmills?”
Mateo grinned. “Naí, sweetheart. There’re currently 16 windmills on Mykonos. Most of them were built by the Venetians in the 16th century, but construction continued into the early 20th century. They were primarily used to mill wheat but their use gradually declined until they ceased production in the 1950’s. One of them is a museum now.”
The windmills disappeared under the wing of the jet as it dipped lower and landed on the tarmac.
* * *
The two men found themselves at a small terminal with the same blue-and-white logo as on the plane. The door of the small outbuilding burst open and a darkly handsome young man raced out to greet them. He literally jumped into Mateo’s arms as the other man held him tight and spun him around.
“Mateo, πόσο σας έχω χάσει!!” (Mateo – how I’ve missed you! ed.)
The young man looked like a classical statue come to life - his sable hair ruffled in the strong breeze and strong, black brows surmounted gleeful dark brown eyes; a squared jaw was covered in a well-trimmed, stubbled beard. He was a few inches shorter than Mateo, but just as powerfully built. He wore a snug light blue t-shirt and deeply tanned legs and muscled ass filled low-cut, white shorts. A pair of white soccer shoes (minus socks) completed the casual outfit.
“Same here, Hector! This is Charlie Hawke, my partner and the love of my life.” He turned to Charlie. “Hector Kriatos is my cousin. I spent most of my summers here on the island with him.”
The young man gave the policeman a lascivious once-over and a beautiful white smile split his face. "Ahh ... the man who stole my cousin's heart … and I can see why!" He had a clear, deep tenor with a slightly different accent than Mateo's, but just as delightful. Hector gave the other man a strong hug and kissed him on both cheeks. "Welcome to Mykonos, koukla mou!"
The three men walked through the hangar and into the airport proper, where the passengers’ paperwork was quickly processed.. Ori was leaning against a Range Rover when they exited the building. He crossed his arms and cocked an eyebrow at the Mykonos native.
He grinned. “You know, Heck, for a prominent doctor, you dress like a male whore…”
Hector chuckled and undid the top buttons of his shorts; the peek of a polished steel cockring gleamed in the afternoon sunlight. He then pulled the pilot into a deep kiss. “I know what you like, you swine. Particularly after a flight..."
The two men continued to fondle and embrace each other until Mateo diplomatically cleared his throat. Kriatos gave his lover’s crotch a final squeeze and then hopped into the vehicle.
“Let’s get up to the villa – Papa can’t wait to see you!”
* * *
The car wound thru a small village and proceeded up the seaside cliffs via a series of hairpin turns. The policeman’s jaw dropped open when they made the final turn and the Kriatos villa came into view.
“Jesus Christ!” The villa was a combination of blazing white stucco and fieldstone terraced into a number of levels. Graceful arches adorned a number of the levels and bright blue shutters surrounded each window. Hector beeped the horn as they were approaching the port-cochere and by the time Hector switched off the engine, the main door had opened and Damien Kriatos stood waiting.
Mateo strode out of the car and embraced the older man. The two held each other tightly as if the world itself had faded away. The shipping magnate laid his head on the other's shoulder and Kriatos stroked the silky brown hair of his nephew.
“Damien – with the rest of the Kriatos family – literally own four-fifths of Greece …” Ori spoke quietly to Charlie as they exited the car and walked towards the entranceway. “… Mateo’s mother – Damien’s sister - Calista – was killed when he was only two years old. He raised Mateo and loves him more than life itself. He’ll do anything for him. Or destroy anyone that hurts him. Be careful, Charlie.”
Mateo’s uncle said something to him which made the young man's eyes widen in shock. A wolfish smile split his face and he laughed with joy.
The elder Kriatos gave Orestes a welcoming embrace and then turned to Hawke. He shared the same dark hair as his son, but his eyes were the identical brilliant emerald as Mateo’s. They raked over the young officer and he felt as if his soul were being weighed in that verdant gaze. “And this must be Charlie …”
Hawke extended his hand. “H-How do you do, Mr. Kriatos? Thank you for allowing me to…”
The older man pulled Charlie into a crushing embrace. “ ‘Mr. Kriatos?’ Ha! Call me ‘Uncle’!! You’ve put a spell on Mateo, my boy, and I can see it has worked wonders! I’ve never seen him happier! He talks of you incessantly! You two are perfect together! And look at those amazing tattoos on the both of you! Better than wedding rings! Come inside, come inside!”
Castillion looked ecstatic. He pulled the policeman to him and gave him a hard and deep kiss. “I’ll let Uncle get you settled, amor. Hector and I need to take care of something right away. I’ll be back in an hour or so.”
He ran back to the car and jumped into the front seat. He grinned at his cousin.
“Let’s see the sonofabitch. I want to see what you're doing to him.” Hector gunned the engine and the car sped away.
* * *
It had taken Ben a while to regain consciousness after the sedative had been removed from the intravenous drip. Coherent thought returned even slower as he found himself bound and naked to the wooden chair. There was no give at all to the metal restraints and despite straining himself to the verge of again passing out, he could barely move a muscle. Exhausted, he gulped in draughts of air and tried to access the situation.
Then the pain began.
* * *
Sorry to interrupt, Danny, but we have some activity on the Van Sant monitor. ODIN’s voice echoed in his head.
Travis is out on patrol right now. Since you’re officer of the watch, can you come down here, please?
I’ll be right there. A puzzled expression crossed his face as Captain Danny Kaminski wondered what the hell was going on.
* * *
As Mateo and Hector reached the heavy door, the two could hear faint noises from the other side.
Castillion gave his cousin a wry smile. “Sounds like he’s not taking the lack of anemoi very well, is he?
Hector laughed. “I suppose not. But then again, I started him on a massive dose.”
Mateo opened the door and was greeted by inhuman screams of agony.
* * *
Ben was panting as the door swung inward. He looked wildly at the two men as they entered. His body felt as if it had been dipped in acid and the fire was eating itself inward. The taller of the two circled around the captive Van Sant and then stood in front of him, savoring the tableau.
“H-Help me ….” The arms dealer stuttered hoarsely through the wracking pain. “… p-please …”
Mateo drew back his arm and gave the captive a backhanded slap that rattled the heavy chair on its moorings. “THAT was for using one of my warehouses for your goddamned arms deal …”
He picked up a large knife from a nearby table and drove it into the captive’s thigh. The point embedded itself into the wood of the chair. Van Sant shrieked.
“and … THIS was for trying to kill Charlie! By the time I finish with you, Van Sant, you’ll be begging for death, but I think I’ll give Officer Hawke that honor.”
He spat on him, and turned to leave. Even through the blinding haze of pain, Mateo’s smile chilled him to the bone.
“I’ll be back later, you fucking koproskilo. (literally, dogshit, ed.) First, I’m going to do to you the same things your two thugs did to Charlie and then I have some rather special plans in store for you.”
* * *
"YOU WANT ME TO FUCKING RESCUE THE MAN THAT NEARLY MURDERED MY FLESH AND BLOOD?" Kaminski shouted at Colonel Morgan.
Dark eyes bored into him. "That's EXACTLY what I expect, Captain. And I want him back in good condition! Do we understand each other?"
Travis cleared his throat. Several items on the colonel's desk began to rattle. This situation could well escalate out of control. In addition to his considerable telepathic talents, the Captain had also started to exhibit some staggeringly powerful telekinetic abilities - even without the power of the Castle's gestalt behind him. He put his arm around Kaminski and pulled him close. "C'mon, Danny, c'mon ... Calm down... please..." He stroked his back. Slowly, the captain's hands began to unclench.
"You know, Sir, a simple rescue isn't going to work long-term. The people that were responsible for grabbing Van Sant planned it well and took their time. They'll only do it again if we break him out."
Continuing to stroke his back, he turned to the captain. "Danny, do you think your nephew would listen to reason if we explained the situation to him?"
Kaminski was quiet. He nodded. "I think so ... he's always been a very level-headed kid..."
Burke's gaze returned to his CO. "Right now, sir, the Kriatos head of security is giving him a professional beating - he's doing things to him that are making some of our own interrogators cringe. He also has a large KA-BAR knife through the thigh. According to the conversations going on, Charlie and his partner are going to come by later and finish him off. I think we could time it so Danny and I could wormhole in and not be noticed, grab the two guys and Rig can take Van Sant back. After we get things settled, we can take them back to Mykonos. What do you think, Colonel?"
Morgan drummed his fingers on the desk. "I like that alternative. What about you, Danny? You okay with this?"
Kaminski reluctantly agreed and Tyler Morgan dismissed the two men to plan the raid.
* * *
The dinner party thrown by Mateo's uncle went amazingly well. Charlie felt right at home with Damien Kriatos and Mateo had not been joking about their type of relationship "running in the family" - more than several relatives in the large, boisterous clan had brought their lovers with them - all to meet Mateo's partner. He was showered with kisses, hugs and well wishes from all present.
"You okay, Charlie? You look a little overwhelmed..."
Orestes and Hector had come over to him during a lull in the festivities as several of Mateo's other cousins had dragged him away. The dark haired doctor was being supported by his lover and was close to falling down drunk.
He gave the two a lopsided smile. "Yeah, a little. I'm so used to keeping everything under wraps that it's a bit of a surprise - and a bit of a rush, too I'll admit - to be completely out and accepted."
Hector unsteadily wrapped an arm around the young policeman. "You-You're everything Mateo told us you were and more, Charlie - handsome, bright, funny - there is schweet...sweetness about you that is tempered by duty and honor. You two were meant to be together - it was only a matter of time until Fate stepped in ..."
The younger Kriatos covered his mouth to stifle a burp. "Sorry. I think I may have had a bit too much Mavrodafni ... but I know you're going to be very happy with the wedding gift, agapi̱méni̱!"
Hector tried to look stern (failing miserably) and poked Hawke in the chest. "You just need to learn Greek!" He hiccupped and turned to his partner and swayed. "Ori? ..."
"Let's get you upstairs, handsome - you know how much I love to take advantage of a drunk..." Galidis winked as he helped the doctor stagger away to their bedroom.
Fingers stroked along Charlie's neck and he shivered with delight. "Enjoying yourself, sweetheart?" Mateo pulled Hawke to him and gave him a soft kiss on the lips.
"I'm having the time of my life, Mattie - thank you!" Their crotches ground together as Hawke slid his hands past the waistband of his lover's jeans to knead the muscular ass.
"Hector was drunk as a skunk, but he mentioned something about a 'wedding gift' ... what was that all about?"
Mateo kissed the tip of Hawke's nose. "Ahhh ... my cousin the blabbermouth. I asked my uncle to help me get something for you ... c'mon Charlie, let me show you - I know you'll be surprised."
* * *
Charlie and Mateo entered the small building and the policeman’s lover fished a ring of keys out of his pocket before filling up a plastic bucket of water. He reached up to the shelf over the sink and scooped out a cup of salt, pouring it into the water and stirring it with a large wooden spoon.
Following Charlie’s quizzical gaze, he smiled. “We’ll probably need this, amor. It''ll add to the pleasure.” The Spaniard put the bucket down and opened the door.
It took a moment for Hawke’s eyes to adjust to the dim light of the enclosed room but soon he could pick out naked figure shackled to the heavy wooden chair. The man had passed out and the young officer took in the heavy bruises and bloody welts all over the body as well as the large knife embedded in his leg. He tried to quell the rising arousal within him, but failed – he could feel his pulse thudding in his chest and his cock slithering down the leg of his shorts. Castillion flipped additional switches and the room grew brighter.
Mateo hefted the bucket and threw the water onto the unconscious figure. The prisoner sputtered and screamed as the salt caused the agony from the open wounds to rage anew.
“You have a visitor, Mr. Van Sant … although I’m not sure that you’ll be exactly glad to see him.”
The arms dealer’s hands clenched feebly as the salt stung his eyes. His voice was cracked and weak.
“Forgive me if I don’t get up and introduce myself – I seem to be tied up at the moment…” Mateo slapped him hard across the face and a bloody trickle began at the corner of his mouth.
Charlie’s eyes widened at the state of the man in front of him.
“Ben?”
Van Sant was finally able to open his eyes and focused blearily on the young policeman. “Charlie?” He closed his eyes and took several ragged breaths, trying to regain enough strength to continue speaking.
“It seems like no good deed goes unpunished, does it, kid?” The arms dealer's head fell forward. He sobbed. "Oh, Jesus wept ... it hurts. It hurts so much ..."
Hawke was in shock.
“It took me over eight months to find this bastard, amor. Uncle picked up in India and had him brought to Mykonos only a few days ago. I couldn’t believe my good luck that he was here when we arrived so you could finish him off. Believe me, I’ve never felt so good beating the living shit out of someone before."
Castillion’s eyes blazed with righteous rage. “No one hurts you the way he did and lives.” The policeman shivered as his lover stroked his back.
Charlie was torn between the erotic rush of finding the man of his nightmares tortured, bound and ready to be executed and pity towards the broken human being before him. One of those emotions won out – but just barely.
He turned to his lover. “Mattie, I want to spend some time with him, okay?”
Mateo pulled him close and felt the hardness of his manhood straining the fabric of the shorts. He gave him a deliciously corrupt grin and a deep kiss full of promise.
“Of course, sweetheart. There are plenty of toys on the table for you to use. I’ll be outside. Call me when you want me. I also have some jumper cables we can attach to the generator if you want them.”
* * *
Van Sant looked at him with pain-filled, swollen, blackened eyes. “You’ve got one bloodthirsty boyfriend, Charlie. I don’t think anyone ever cared enough to kill for me. He said he wants to cut out my heart and roast it.”
Hawke went to the antique refrigerator in the corner and opened the door. Besides some ampules of medicine labeled in Greek, there were numerous bottles of water. He took several out and opened one onto a small towel. He began to clean the wounds on the captive’s face and chest. The policeman opened another bottle and held it up to the cracked and split lips.
“C’mon, Ben … sip it slowly…” He watched as the cool liquid trickled into the parched throat.
“Why … why are you doing this? Why are you helping me?”
Charlie sighed as he continued to pat cool water onto the bloody wounds. “I don’t know. If this were six months ago, I think I would have given you a belly shot and watched you bleed out in front of me. Now … now, I look at you and all I see is a man in agony. I could just put you out of your misery – but … I can’t. Everyone deserves a second chance, Ben. Even a sonofabitch like you.”
Van Sant gave a weak chuckle. “Wow ... after everything, you’re still a Boy Scout, Charlie … woo-hoo for me …”
“Oh, shut the fuck up…” Hawke started rummaging around to find the keys to release the arms dealer from his shackles. “… how the hell am I going to tell Mattie that I don’t want to kill you and I don’t want you dea- …“
Hawke stopped. His proximity sense was shrieking like a banshee in his mind.
“Charlie?” the captive rasped. Hawke put a finger to his lips.
He had initially felt only Castillion in the outer room, but two additional presences now filled his senses. Moving like a shadow, he picked up a Beretta 92 from the table and cocked it. He felt a hard determination from outside and then he sensed Mateo and one of the others presences vanish. He positioned himself between Van Sant and the door, legs apart and holding the gun in a steady two-handed grip.
A prickling unease came over the young officer and he spun around – despite him facing the only door, someone was now in the room with him. Out of thin air, a faceless nightmare figure in a black and red carapace yanked the gun out of his hand and an armored glove clamped around his head.. He felt a sharp sting at the back of his neck and quickly spiraled into unconsciousness. Hawke fell into the waiting embrace of the trooper and was gently carried away in his arms. As they approached the door, the two simply vanished from sight.
Van Sant’s heart was pounding in his chest as the door slowly opened and another figure entered. The man-shaped ... thing … that entered his cell was over 6’ tall and the godlike, powerfully muscular body was covered in a featureless black skin that glistened like polished metal. It had silver reflectors which glowed with an inner light where its eyes should have been and a belt with several pouches was slung over trim hips. A codpiece of the same material was stretched over a massive cock and equally substantial ballsac.
Despite heavy boots covering its feet, it moved soundlessly in the small room. The midnight-black being first went to the refrigerator and removed several of the ampules stored there and then approached the prisoner. It cocked its ebon head at the terrified and badly wounded man and extended a dark finger to touch the captive’s forehead. The arms dealer felt the world go dark as he passed out.
RIG unlocked the captive from the shackles and lifted him out of the chair; he loosened the knife but left it in the leg to prevent any further bleeding by its removal.
With Ben in his arms, the android straightened up and vanished.
* * *
The strong scent of ammonia woke Charlie with a start. An ebon hand reached up to ruffle his hair.
“Easy, tiger – everything’s fine…”
Hawke looked into the smiling face. “Uncle Danny?”
“In the flesh…” Even though they kept up with both emails and phonecalls, the young officer had not seen his uncle in over a year. He was surprised to note that he appeared at least five years younger than he had during his attendance at Charlie’s NYPD graduation; his blue eyes widened when he took in the black and crimson battle armor the former lieutenant still wore. Hawke was lying on a couch in what appeared to be some type of Spartan lounge, with his uncle next to him in a straight-backed chair.
Kaminski followed his nephew’s eyes. “It was necessary to break up that little party of yours on Mykonos before it got out of hand. I'm sorry I had to sneak up on you, Charlie. Believe me, I wanted nothing more to rip the fucking head off of Van Sant when I found out he was the one that hurt you, but wiser counsel prevailed. You feel okay? Can you stand up?”
Hawke swung his feet around and sat up. “Mattie! Is he? …”
Kaminski patted his thigh. “You’re partner’s fine. No one got hurt. But my CO wants to discuss some things with you first. C’mon, Charlie – let’s go.”
* * *
The two men exited the lounge and walked down a corridor. Hawke took notice of the numerous handsome, black-clad soldiers that gave his uncle grins, nods and casual salutes. He also found himself embarrassingly hard and kept adjusting his shorts to try to relieve the growing discomfort of his erection. Kaminski hugged his nephew close to him and chuckled.
“Don’t worry about that, tiger – it happens all the time here.”
“Where’s ‘here’ Uncle Danny? I kinda get the feeling we’re not in Mykonos anymore.”
Kaminski paused. “We’re at an Army Ranger base in Saudi Arabia. It’s a combination outpost and research facility.” The two stopped and Danny gave the door a sharp rap. “I’ll let the Colonel take it from here.”
* * *
“Captain Morgan?” Charlie stood wide-eyed at the door to the conference room. The buzzcut commander of the Castle stood up and walked over to him.
Both Danny and Tyler Morgan grinned. “Charlie, one of the things Cap doesn’t advertise is the fact that he’s got a twin brother. This is Colonel Tyler Morgan.” The two shook hands.
“And these are the other guys on the extraction team. Travis Burke – who took Mattie from the outer room, and RIG – who brought in Van Sant.” Both soldiers stood up. The Navy SEAL was wearing a pair of black BDU pants with a black string tank pulled tightly over his powerful torso. Bright silver tattoos began at his muscled shoulder and swept down his arm. The other was encased in a slick black skin and almost at once, Hawke knew that he was not human.
“Charlie – it’s a pleasure to meet you!” Travis gave the young policeman a 100-watt grin and a hug.
“Same here, Charlie! Congrats seem to be in order for you and Mateo!” RIG’s sensors gleamed as he swept the young man into an embrace. Hawke was surprised, but reached around to return the gesture and the black form shivered as Charlie unconsciously stroked the muscled back. The officer felt the other’s crotch swell and grow hard to match his own aching manhood as they held each other.
Morgan cleared his throat. “RIG …”
“Oops. Sorry about that, sir.” The dark form disengaged.
Morgan gestured for them all to sit. “RIG is an android and sometimes he gets carried away with his tactile sensor feedback … but Ben Van Sant is the reason we brought the two of you here. You see, Charlie, he's a cats paw for us and we can’t let your partner kill him - unfortunately, he's too valuable. We thought we would need to convince you as well of that fact, but it appears that you’ve already had a change of heart. Danny here was already extolling your virtues, but I have to say, you've far exceeded our expectations.”
Charlie blushed. RIG continued. “Everything that you’ve heard and read about Van Sant in his dossier is true – he’s a very successful arms dealer and a very casual killer – he did rape and murder his CO, but only after the sonofabitch sent his squad out on a fool’s mission and they were all killed. Van Sant’s lover died in his arms, and he made sure the battalion commander paid dearly for that stupidity.”
Morgan spoke up. “In his own twisted moral code, Van Sant is doing things that serve a greater good – we’re involved in black ops here, Charlie – so black that we don’t even answer to Washington any longer. Or goal is protecting humanity – and sometimes we need to break some eggs to make an omelet. It’s slow going – but we’re making progress. Sadly, in part to people like Van Sant. Danny told you we’re also a research facility – there are things we’ve developed here – like RIG, for example – that we can’t trust the morons in the government not to abuse.”
Danny looked at his nephew and a sad smile crossed his face. “Remember the oath of the Anla-Shok, tiger?
‘We are Rangers. We walk in the dark places no others will enter.That’s our creed here, Charlie. Sometimes it twists our guts to have to act the way we do, but in the long-run, it’s achieving the goal.”
We stand on the bridge, and no one may pass.
We live for the One. We die for the One.’
Burke spoke up. Hawke blinked – at first he thought he was crazy, but the silvery ink was slowly twisting itself in different patterns on his muscular arm. Following his gaze, the young SEAL grinned.
“That’s LOKI. He’s another one of the sentient AI’s here. We accidentally merged when he saved my life. He says ‘Hello’ too, by the way … Charlie, it was my idea to bring you two here and convince you to drop this vendetta. Do you think Mateo will listen to reason?”
Danny's nephew was quiet. His head spun from the amount of information he was processing. He sighed and shook his head.
“Mattie wants him dead for what he did to me. Whatever the extenuating circumstances. He tracked down Van Sant’s two thugs and murdered them too. It’s a matter of justice with Mattie, as with his uncle and his cousin - they seem to see themselves as agents of - what was the word he used? - tisis - divine retribution”
RIG drummed ebon fingers on the table. Charlie was continually amazed at how human the android appeared and acted. And the size of his goddamned cock. His vocalizer let out a deep chuckle as he leaned back.
“Well, gentlemen – the answer is very simple. We let Charlie kill Benjamin Van Sant … or rather, a reasonable holographic facsimile and Mateo can watch and participate. We already have the two-room layout programmed in the interrogation theater and we can position a wormhole in the doorway back to Mykonos when we need it.”
“What about the body?” Morgan asked.
“I doubt anyone is going to check for DNA – there’s an organic simulacrum ODIN can repurpose for that in short order."
* * *
"I can't believe all of this is just light." Charlie walked around the adjoining Greek cells recreated by ODIN. He turned on the faucet and felt water flow over his hands.
Travis walked along with him. "The entire sensorium is replicated. Neither you nor Mateo ..." he ran a hand through the deep brown hair of the man asleep at the small, rustic table. "... will be able to tell the difference. Our probe is feeding information back here real time, so everything that you would see, hear or even smell outside of the building in Mykonos is duplicated here.
We'll wake up Mr. Castillion when you're into the swing of things in the other room and after "Ben" is killed, when the two of your pass through the doorway, you'll be back in Mykonos. The fake body will be in place at the same time."
He put an arm around the young policeman.
"Ready to meet your victim?" Charlie nodded and the young SEAL accompanied him back into the other room.
* * *
Charlie was shocked to see the figure of Ben Van Sant once again shackled to the wooden chair. The figure looked up and gave him a grin.
"Hey Charlie - do I look bad enough for you? Remember, anything you do to me, I'll display the damage with solidified photonic projections."
Hawke reached out to touch the figure. The figure pulled back and winced. The young officer felt feverish and broken skin beneath his fingertips. He looked at them and they were smeared with blood.
"Wow ..."
"Charlie - two things. ODIN is going to take some liberties with Ben's conversation that is certain to press some buttons with you or Mateo.
Our chief medical officer also recommended we give you something that is going to shorten your temper and make you a bit more aggressive. The more convincing your performance for your partner, the better. The chemical will last about 20 minutes. You okay with that?"
Hawke nodded and gave the SEAL and the ersatz Van Sant a rueful grin. "I'm going to need all the help I can get to pull this off."
Travis put an injector onto Hawke's neck; he heard it hiss as the chemical entered his bloodstream.
"Effects are pretty much immediate, Charlie. Good luck!" The SEAL gave him a quick kiss on the lips and vanished into a wall.
* * *
Charlie could feel a rush of anger flow through him and turned to look at the captive Van Sant. As before, he found himself growing hard looking the the bruised and beaten man. He wanted the fucking bastard in front of him to suffer.
Ben muttered something and Charlie yanked his head up to look at the blackened eyes.
"What did you say?"
"I should have killed you. I should have fucked you for a couple of hours and then blew your goddamned brains out. What a stupid bastard I was ..."
Charlie punched him in the face. He felt the cartilage crack in the prisoner's nose as his head snapped back. A fresh flow of blood began pouring out of the middle of his face and ruby-red rivulets began to dribble down onto the wounded chest.
"Mattie!"
Castillion entered the room and looked with satisfaction at the bloody figure.
Mateo chuckled. "Visiting hours are almost over, Mr. Van Sant ..." He wrapped his arms around his lover and gave Charlie a kiss on the back of his neck.
"You should have been next, you fucking Spic! After I blew this baby cop's brains out, I should have tracked you down. You like playing with knives, don't you, you sonofabitch?" Ben panted to catch his breath.
"It would have been my pleasure to tie you down and start skinning you! Listening to you scream as I flayed you open would have been music to my ears..."
Hawke grabbed a long screwdriver and ran the sharpened tip down the right side of Van Sant's chest. When he got to the point he desired, he gripped hard and drove it in. The captive cried out as he Charlie pulled it out and bright, frothy-red blood pumped out of the new wound.
"Little hard to talk with a collapsed lung, isn't it?" Charlie grinned and turned to his lover. "You were right, Mattie - this is fun!"
"F-fuck-fuckers..." Van Sant wheezed. Hawke walked over to the table and hefted a knife with a wickedly curved blade into his hand.
"Mmmm ... this'll do just fine ..."
He slowly walked over to the captive and used the tip to incise a bloody cross in the middle of his chest. Van Sant moaned at the addition of the new injury.
Charlie examined his work with satisfaction. " 'X' marks the spot ..." And plunged the weapon into the chest. Van Sant stiffened and then fell limp and lifeless in his shackles.
Mateo gently pulled Charlie's face to his. "It's over, amor ... no more nightmares, no more fears - you'll never need to worry about him again..." He gathered the young policeman in his arms and held him tight.
Hawke stroked the other man's face and then gave his lover a brutal kiss. "Let's get out of here, Mattie - I want to celebrate this with you. I can't wait to get those legs of yours on my shoulders..."
Wrapped around each other, the two walked through the doorway and Charlie's ears gave a slight pop - the only indication that the wormhole had deposited them back in Mykonos. He pulled the door shut and moved over to the sink, ostensibly to wash the blood from his hands, but more so to cover the shaking. Oh God, I hope this works.
"What do we do with the body, sweetheart?"
"Uncle will take care of it. Probably put some false identification on him and toss it over the cliffs. The local police will chalk it up to an unfortunate tourist being robbed and killed."
Charlie pulled Mateo into an embrace and laid his head on the powerful shoulder.
"Oh God, Mattie ... what did I ever do to deserve someone like you..."
Castillion gave his lover a playful nip on the ear. "Let's go back to the villa, Charlie. I can't wait to feel you fill me up either..."
* * *
Tyler Morgan walked into the infirmary. He gave Sid a kiss on the neck and wrapped an arm around the stunning Arab doctor.
"How's Van Sant doing?"
"On the mend. I've flushed that anemoi out of his system and the medical nanoprobes are repairing the damage sustained from the beatings. The knife wound is completely healed. He should be ready for release in a few days."
"Can you leave the process off so he still has some pain and the injuries will still need to finish healing naturally but he's completely functional?"
The doctor gave his lover a puzzle look. "Sure ... why?"
Morgan continued. "We've identified a deep cover Yemeni terrorist cell. Danny and Gabril thought it would be a good idea to implant some false memories into your patient about being attacked when this group reneged on a deal. Van Sant will wake up hurting from the beating and kill the fuckers who he thinks did it to him."
Sid grinned at the deviousness of the plan. "Our Captain Kaminski has a vicious streak in him, doesn't he?"
"He's picking up a lot of bad habits from Gabi." Morgan held the doctor by his trim hips. "As I have from you ... by the way, what are you doing tonight?"
Sid gave his commander a quick kiss. A deliciously wicked grin split his handsome face.
"Whatever you want, sir."
* * *
Well, first of all, congratulations to ME for my hundredth post here on Maskers. When I started this blog in 2007, I had no idea I'd be doing it for five years and I've enjoyed every minute of it!
Ben Van Sant has become one of the most complicated characters I've ever developed and as such, he was in need of an equally complicated saga. I think the fact that I had wanted a "sleazy soldier boy" type of mask contributed to the layers and layers of nuance I felt I had to explore. This is also the first time I've had this many characters - fourteen to be exact - in a single story. My buddy Mike asked me how I manage to juggle so many characters weaving in and out of the plotline - just lucky, I guess!
I had mentioned in earlier installations of this story that I wasn't sure if Ben was a rogue or just pretending to be one. I finally decided that he was as evil a bastard as I had initially made him to be, but I was still intrigued by the idea of some guiding principle behind his actions. The fact that the personnel of The Castle could possibly be using him to further their goals popped into my head and that story line worked extremely well.
Due in part to the fact that 'Charlie Hawke' was based on an actual person - that young cop I saw in front of Starbucks - I really wanted to explore him and his relationships and also give him the chance of being in an environment with his lover that the poor guy probably will never experience. Even with gay marriage becoming more acceptable, I don't think that young policeman I met will ever have that opportunity. At least, I gave him that here.
In the back of my head, I sort of knew there was going to be a conflict on Charlie's part regarding Ben's demise. I knew the idea excited and aroused him, but it was a matter to see if he could actually do it. Officer Hawke's guardian angel - Bobby - also was a tipping point for me. I decided that there was enough ambiguity in his feelings to require a little push on the side of good; Mattie could be the yang to Charlie's yin. With Mateo's combined Greek and Spanish heritage, there was plenty of room for well-planned and gruesome revenge. However, I do have my bloodthirsty moments - the ability for the young cop to exorcise his demons though the auspices of ODIN's virtuality was a good compromise.
All in all, I think this tetrology worked out pretty well. I hope all my readers enjoyed the saga and as always -- leave comments!!!