“You actually think you’re going to get away with this, Uresti?” Captain James Schroeder glared at the other man standing over him. His face was a mass of cuts and bruises and was lined from the pain of the beatings he had received; his powerful arms were cuffed behind his back.
“Of course I am. You’re not the first impediment I’ve had to remove, and you’re not going to be the last. You just couldn’t play along with the rest of us, could you, Jimmy? You had to be a Boy Scout, didn’t you?” He shook his head. "What a fucking waste..."
“But your wife and kids will do just fine… I’m even gonna start a college fund for Eric and Jennifer…”
Schroder’s bruised eyes filled with unshed tears. “You fucking bastard…”
“… and the best part of it is that the Molantos are gonna be blamed for it…” Uresti quickly walked behind the captive man and shot him through the back of his head. The body fell forward into a rapidly growing pool of blood.
The NYPD captain wiped the gun clean. Even with it going into the East River, no need to take any chances.
He looked up to see his driver putting away his smartphone.
“Pritchard – what the FUCK were you doing? Were you making a goddamned call when I was blowing his brains out?”
The driver blushed and shook his head. “I was, uh, taking a video. Snuff films really get me off…”
Uresti’s face turned black with rage. “Get rid of that goddamned video NOW! Don’t you know what fucking EVIDENCE is when you see it?” The young officer pressed some buttons on the device.
“OK Sir, done.”
“Gimme that phone!” The murderous policeman grabbed it out of his underling’s hands and scrolled through the directories; finding nothing.
“Stupid fucking bastard, I should put a goddamned bullet between your eyes as well… let’s get the hell out of here.”
The two men got into their sedan and left the scene.
* * *
Sergeant Tracy Pritchard walked into his apartment and locked the door behind him. He was exhausted. After the murder, Uresti had continued to harangue him during the entire trip back to his home in Flatbush and warned him again of dire consequences if he ever caught him recording any activities again.
He pulled out his phone and tapped on the Recycle Bin icon. He smiled as the screen displayed the message
DIRECTORY ‘SNUFF’ HAS BEEN ERASED - RECOVER?
And tapped the YES button. He was looking forward to a cool shower and some jerkoff time before he went on duty again.
* * *
The woman in question was standing about a quarter-car away from them. She was wearing a cream-colored blouse that accented the swell of her breasts; the décolletage was low enough to be noticeable, but not enough to be wanton. A trim navy skirt was cut to show trim, muscular thighs and shapely calves; black patent leather pumps further accented her long legs. Every jerk of the subway care made her long-honey-blonde hair sway gently around and across her shoulders. 
Pritchard heard the opening tones of his cellphone (Star Wars “The Imperial March”) and reached into his jacket pocket to find – nothing. He looked up to see his subway companion lift the stolen cellphone to his ear as he gave him a smile and a wink. The press of people was too much for the policeman as he reached the doors to only have them close in his face. Enraged, he pounded on the glass as the train began to pull out of the station.
Logan McBride answered the phone. “Hello? Who? Sorry, he’s not here right now…” and hung up, then powered down the phone. Well, that’s a good way to start the day… He shifted his satchel over his shoulder as he joined the crowd of people on the escalator to the street.
* * *
Uresti was reviewing some paperwork when Pritchard entered his office. “You’re late. We’ve got a meeting in midtown at 10am and then there’s … what’s wrong with you?”
“Boss, I got my wallet and cellphone snatched on the subway this morning…”
“Shit. Sorry about that. Let’s go. You can deal with the paperwork later…”
Pritchard was shaking with fear. “You don’t understand… I…” He swallowed hard. “I… didn’t delete the video last night. I just put it in the recycle bin and took it back out when I got home…”
Uresti grew pale and icy fingers clutched his heart. “What else was on that phone?”
“All of them…”
“ALL OF WHAT???” He screamed.
“All… all of the… removals you’ve done. I… jerk off when I watch them…”
“Christ Almighty…” He picked up his phone. “Alice, cancel all my meetings this morning…” He took a deep breath.
“Y-yeah… I did.”
Uresti drummed his fingers on the desk. “Well then, we just got an anonymous tip on Schroeder’s killer. I’ll arrange to have the sketch artist do a rendering of your pickpocket and he’s now gonna be the prime suspect who shot a police captain. Every cop will be looking for that sonofabitch and if they find him, he probably won’t survive the encounter.”
* * *
“Harry, how can you be so damned happy all the time?” Captain Martin Dempsey stopped at his desk with an exasperated but relieved look on his face. The handsome Latino was one of the youngest Homicide lieutenants in the NYPD and while being a minority had provided him an entrée into the department, it was his own brilliance and initiative that had distinguished him from his fellow officers. And his demeanor.
He grinned. “Cap, I love catching bad guys, and I love being a cop! Why wouldn’t I be happy? It doesn’t hurt that most of them are not the brightest bulbs in the light fixture, but it’s the really clever ones that really let me stretch my abilities. The chase with them is even more fun than the endgame.”
“Well, keep up the good work…” Dempsey squeezed the powerful shoulders of his lieutenant. “and let’s hope we get enough criminal masterminds to keep you sharp!”
“Yessir!” Treville gave his CO a bright white smile and continued to type.
* * *
It had been a long day for the Homicide lieutenant and after several interminable hours in court – cooling his heels more than testifying – he was eager to get home, prepare dinner and work out. However, when he turned the corner to his apartment building, he began to experience a tingle of something. It wasn’t specific, and it wasn’t the type of malign premonitions he got while working on a case, but it continued to grow.
His heart began to thump when he got off the elevator and he saw a slight spill of light beneath his door. Then a shadow crossed the faint glimmer. Then once more in the opposite direction. Treville removed the Glock from the paddle holster on his hip and quietly unlocked the door with his other hand.
Holding the gun in a two-handed grip, he turned the corner.
“Harry! I didn’t do it! I swear to God I didn’t do it!”
* * *
“Didn’t do WHAT, Logan? What are you talking about?” He stroked the fine, dark hair from the thief’s forehead and looked into the frightened green eyes.
“The cop! The police captain! I didn’t shoot him! It’s because of the cellphone! You know I’ve never hurt anyone! I don’t even like to TOUCH a gun! Jeez, the cops are gonna hunt me down and kill me!” He started to weep.
Harry brought him over to the sofa and the two sat down. “Okay… deep breaths. Start from the beginning. Tell me what happened…”
* * *
Treville shook his head. “What was on the phone, Logan?”
“The videos! There was a whole directory of videos of the same guy killing a bunch of people. The last video was that captain!”
“Show me.” The lieutenant was sickened imagining what he was about to see, but he steeled himself to accept what he suspected.
Logan took out the stolen cellphone and turned it on. “I disabled the GPS and popped the SIM card. It can’t be traced when it’s turned on. Go to the SNUFF directory.”
Harry scrolled through to find the directory and selected the latest video. He watched in growing horror as his suspicions proved correct. “Madre de Dios – he was killed by another cop.”
“Oh shit…” Logan gulped in panic. “You saw what the killer said – the mayor and the PC?…”
“Police Commissioner…” Treville volunteered.
“…the Police Commissioner are involved. Who else is in this, Harry? What’s gonna happen to me? That phone is like the videotape in “The Ring” – anyone who sees it gets a death sentence!”
Harry pulled his lover into his arms and rocked him gently. “I don’t know, sweetheart. But I do know I guy we can trust. Absolutely. We’re gonna bring this to the Dark Lord. He’ll be able to figure it out.”
* * *
“W-who??”
Harry grinned. “That’s his nickname. Captain Tanner Morgan. He’s the CO of the Four-One in the Bronx. Lots of strange shit happens in that precinct and no one wants to find out why. Or those that do stop asking questions FAST. Morgan and his guys are absolutely incorruptible. They're like Jedi Knights. Believe me, the IAD shooflies tried too many times to count and they’ve gotten horribly embarrassed every time. Morgan made sure that the brass got egg on their faces each instance the IAD bothered him, so they eventually made him untouchable.”
The lieutenant stroked Logan’s face. “Go and get washed up. We’ll have a good dinner and get this figured out in the morning." He gave the pickpocket a gentle kiss. A wan smile crossed the other man’s face as he snuggled into the muscular embrace of the Latino detective. “God, Harry… what would I do without you?”
* * *
The two traveled by subway to the Forty-First Precinct, figuring the best way to hide something was in plain sight. As a further precaution, Treville decided to shave the pickpocket’s head. Wearing a pair of mirrored glasses, the newly shorn McBride was unrecognizable as the face that was being plastered over every news channel.
After a brief walk, the two men arrived at their destination. Treville showed his badge to the officer on duty and the two waited for their appointment.
“Harry, all these guys are built like porn stars…” Logan whispered to his lover. Every officer coming in or out of the precinct was powerfully muscled and carried themselves with a strange combination of athletic grace, total competence and humility; Logan could feel that each officer was absolutely confident in his abilities, but was well aware of how and when (and when not) to use them. Many of them had elaborate ink running down one or both arms and more than a few wore breeches and boots regardless of the fact that the Four-One had no Motor Patrol.
“And YOU look like a drug addict…” He gave his lover’s thigh a quick squeeze. At that moment, a sergeant arrived to bring the two of them to meet with Captain Tanner Morgan.
* * *
“Treville, that was quite an odd phone call last night… what’s up?”
Morgan was just the way he remembered him from the gala. The police captain was a heroically built man with a thick head of blue-black hair that gleamed in the sunshine streaming through the sparkling windows of his office. He wore a deep green shirt stretched across his slabbed chest with a purple and green tie; the collar was unbuttoned and the tie pulled slightly down. He removed his tinted glasses to reveal bright emerald eyes and motioned the two men to take a seat. Logan shivered; the man before him exuded an incredible aura of power and wore it like a living cloak.
* * *
Dempsey gave the young lieutenant a sad smile. “It was my boy Gareth’s – he was supposed to get married when he finished his tour in Afghanistan – but he never made it home. You two looked to be the same size and build...”
The police captain adjusted the younger man’s satin tie and Treville noticed that his CO’s eyes were full of unshed tears.
Harry held Dempsey’s shoulders. “Thank you for inviting me, Sir. It means a lot to me. It’s a real honor to be with you at the Cardinal Egan dinner.”
Dempsey cleared his throat and an unforced smiled wreathed his face. “Well, Harry – you deserve it. I want to show off my best officer!”
The Cardinal Egan Dinner was held annually to honor those in government and law enforcement. Invitations were carefully controlled and attendees were only those considered the best, brightest and most influential in the affairs of the city.
The celebration gala, in a word, sparkled. Harry tried not to stare at the sheer opulence of the party and the people present. He was introduced to a number of other captains (as well as the Mayor and the Governor) by a proud Dempsey; his reputation had preceded him and many of the upper brass were amazed at the relative youth of the lieutenant with the highest clearance rates in the NYPD.
“Enjoying yourself, Harry?” Dempsey sipped a bourbon as the two walked around the reception hall.
“It’s amazing, Sir! I knew places like this existed, but I didn’t think I’d ever be in one – at least not attending a party!” He grinned. “Maybe with some uniforms investigating a murder…” The Homicide officer drank a bit from his club soda and lime. Being as nervous as he was, he had been determined to stay completely sober.
A deep voice cleared his throat behind them. “I’ve gotten the distinct impression you’ve been avoiding me all night, Marty…”
Harry and his CO turned around to face a pair of men that put the rest of law enforcement attendees to shame. Like himself, the two were tall and powerfully muscled and their tuxedos were cut with an eye to showcase their dieseled physiques. The older of the two had bottle-green eyes that appeared to be lit with an inner fire and were complemented by the emerald and gold studs down the front of his shirt; the younger man – slightly taller – had eyes of the deepest sapphire. Both had black hair cut stylishly short.
Dempsey tensed beside him. “ ‘Course not, Tanner… I’ve just been bringing Harry around to meet everyone. I didn’t see you…”
The green-eyed man put out his hand. “Tanner Morgan. CO of the Four-One. This is Charlie Hawke, one of my patrolmen. Your reputation has proceeded you, Lieutenant – I’m very impressed with your work.”
Harry shook his hand. “Thank you. A pleasure to meet you, Sir.” He was taken aback by the intensity of the captain’s gaze and swore he felt a gentle tingle as their skin touched. The other young policeman grinned. “We were one class apart in the Academy – nice to meet the famous Harry Treville in person!”
Whisky-gold eyes met blue and an imperceptible nod confirmed that the two young officers shared the same job-killing secret about their orientation.
“I’d like to hear more about your cases, Lieutenant. It’s quite refreshing to have such capable young men joining the department.” Tanner’s black eyebrows raised. “I believe we’re sitting at the same table as well…”
At that point, the lights flashed to indicate the guests should begin to be seated, and the four men headed towards the ballroom for the dinner and presentations.
Dempsey took Morgan’s arm and allowed their proteges to precede them. The menace in his lowered voice was unmistakeable. “You stay the fuck away from Treville, Morgan! I mean it!”
“He’ll always be like another son to you, Marty – no one’s going to change that. Least of all me. I see how close you and he are. But Harry Treville will be my right hand at the Four-One sooner or later…” Morgan calm statement left Dempsey stunned he strolled into the ballroom.
* * *
“Sir, this is Logan McBride. He’s the guy that the brass are claiming killed Captain Schroeder, but he didn’t do it. He does have evidence of who did. It’s the ‘who’ that made me call you. I can’t trust anyone else with this information – even my own CO – it's way too dangerous; plus, you’re the only other cop besides Cap Dempsey I know for certain couldn’t be involved.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence, Harry.” He turned to the other man. “Will you show me what you’ve got, Mr. McBride?” He held out a hand.
Logan looked at Harry and his lover nodded. “Go ahead, Logan. We’re safe here.” With a shaking hand, he gave the green-eyed captain the phone. “Check the SNUFF directory.”
The captain proceeded to scroll through the contents. “I stole that phone yesterday morning from a guy on the subway…”
“The man that shot Jimmy Schroeder is Sean Uresti. He’s a deputy commissioner working in the Strategic Initiatives Bureau in the White Tower.” (the nickname for One Police Plaza, ed.) He picked up the phone. “Pavlina, will you get some coffee and bagels from Martino’s for me, please?” He paused. “Enough for five … and extra coffee. Thanks.”
Morgan’s face darkened with fury and his gaze fastened on the pickpocket. His demeanor softened as he saw the abject terror in the other man’s eyes. “Logan, do you think you’d be able to identify the man whose pocket you picked? Now that I know who the killer is, the pool of suspects is now a lot smaller.”
“I… I think so. Yes, captain.”
He hefted the phone in his hand. “Can I keep this for a while?” Logan nodded. “I want you to go through some personnel photos and see if you can ID the guy you robbed. Once we get that done, we have to make sure you’re eliminated.”
“WHAT??!!!” Both men spoke at the same time.
Tanner examined his glasses as his verdant gaze fastened onto Treville. “Let me be clear. We have to make sure that the personage of ‘Logan McBride’ is eliminated. I can definitely take care of this conspiracy situation, but I’m not sure of how long it will take. And I’m not going to risk his well-being on that uncertainty.” He turned to the pickpocket. “You’re going to need a new life and a new identity.”
“Like WITSEC?”
“Better. I can’t go into details right now. I can see you care deeply about each other.”
“Sir, I…” The young latino grew ashen at Tanner’s observation.
Morgan waved him off. “Treville, you’re one of the most brilliant cops on the job. There’s not a corrupt bone in your body. And… you’re just like the rest of us here at the Four-One. That’s three reasons why I’m helping you. Over and above the fact that I want to see Uresti and the rest of his ilk burn in Hell.”
At that moment, a knock sounded on the door and a heavily overweight woman with thick makeup waddled in with a tray of coffee cups and a bag over her forearm.
“Blagodarya vi, Pavlina. Shte vi izpratim Sergeant Reardon tuk, molya?” (Thank you Pavlina, will you send Sergeant Reardon in here, please?, ed.)
I have to take care of the prep work for you. Meanwhile, one of my Sergeants will bring in some photo books for you to look at. He took Logan’s hand and stared into his eyes. “I swear to God Almighty that I won’t let anything happen to you, Logan. You're safe.”
McBride smiled as a great weight was lifted from his soul. He looked into the grim face of the Captain. “I know you won’t, Sir. Thank you.”
* * *
After a few days at Harry’s apartment, the initial preparations were ready to transform Logan McBride. One of the sergeants from the Four-One – Jamieson Reardon – drove him to a nondescript warehouse in Brooklyn. The two men approached a heavy steel door and Logan noticed that there were surveillance cameras surrounding the entrance. As they reached the portal, it click-buzzed and Reardon ushered the other man inside.
“Hey guys, c’mon in!”
He turned to the pickpocket. “I take it you’re Logan? My name’s Zack.”
The young man nodded.
“I don’t want you to worry about anything. I’m going to make sure you’re even better looking than you are now and no one will ever recognize you. Today, I’m only going to take molds of your face, hands, feet and teeth. Those will be the basis of the final transformation. I should be done in about two hours. Plus we'll talk a bit about what I think and what you'd like."
* * *
“How’d it go today?” Harry arrived home and gathered the pickpocket into his arms.
Logan trembled a bit. “I got molds taken. Face, hands, feet and teeth. I’m gonna be completely different inside and out. It was a scary when Zack did the facial casting – my whole head was covered in thick goop for like forty-five minutes, but he kept talking to me and made sure he was within hand-holding range the entire time. I like him. But I’m still scared, Harry. Any news from Captain Morgan?”Harry shook his head. “But it’s getting to people. Uresti must have put out the word about the lost cell phone. There are definitely guys at my precinct that are having seizures right now.”
“What about your Captain? Dempsey??”
“He’s normal, thank God. He’s getting pissed at the nervous ones, though. He doesn’t understand what’s going on.”
“Are you going to tell him?”
Treville looked pensive. “I haven’t decided yet. Probably not. Too dangerous. I have to let Captain Morgan handle this in his own way.”
“Harry…??” Logan looked deeply troubled.
“Yeah?”
“When I’m not Logan McBride anymore… are you going to feel the same way about me… us?”
The dieseled detective gently held the other man’s face in his hands, gave him a gentle kiss and smiled. “Whatever you wind up looking like, whatever your new name is, you’ll always be the guy I caught with his hand in my pants.”
A relieved smile bloomed across the pickpocket’s face. “I loved you then, I love you now and I always will – and that will never, ever change…”
* * *
A week later, Harry accompanied Reardon and McBride back to the warehouse. Reardon introduced Treville. “Zack, this is Harry Treville. Homocide. Can he stay here while you work on Logan?”
“Sure.” The transformation artist gave the pickpocket a critical once-over. "I should be done in about three or four hours. I'll give you a call when we're ready?”
He gave the three men a wave as he left the warehouse.
* * *
“OK Logan, first thing we’re going to do is change your prints and features. Then your skintone and eyes. We'll take care of the voice and DNA blurring after everything else.”
“Are you going to do plastic surgery?” Treville was intrigued at the process that the inked man described.Zack shook his head. “I’ve developed a compound that creates a condition called ‘molecular plasticity’ – for a very short time, it changes how solid matter behaves – for about fifteen minutes, everything acts like semi-soft clay. I’m going to clamp a mold on Logan’s face and when I remove it, he’ll be a new man.”
The tattooed artist continued. “In the meantime, I want to remove the hair off your body and face. Strip down for me?”
Logan pulled the t-shirt over his head and stepped out of his shorts. Zack nodded in appreciation. “You’ve got a great body buddy – it’s going to look even better… do you wax?” All in all, the pickpocket’s physique was a smooth expanse of lean muscle, with just a bit of well-trimmed hair at his crotch.
Zack grinned. “Crawford’s Cream. Love that stuff! Be right back!” He trotted over to a workbench and came back with two large jars.
“Okay, because I need to cover your entire body with the skin dye, you need to be completely hairless. So… Crawford’s Cream on your crotch, and this other stuff – everywhere else, except your head. This other stuff will stop hair growing permanently.”
First, Zack used a pair of electric clippers to buzz down the short fuzz on Logan’s skull to a nonexistent stubble. Then he pulled on a pair of gloves and applied the pink cream to McBride’s crotch. When he was done, he began to slather the other cream onto his face and neck, as well as his arms, legs and chest.
When he was done, he peeled off the gloves and grinned. “Okay. This stuff stays on for thirty minutes. After that, go into the showers…” He tilted his head in the direction of the facilities. “… and give yourself a gentle wash with the body and facial scrubs. I want you well-exfoliated so the coloration takes evenly.”
* * *
After McBride emerged from the shower, Zack pulled on another pair of gloves and proceeded to spread the plasticity compound onto the pickpocket’s hands. The bluish gel was absorbed quickly and the covered skin took on a more ashen hue. Zack motioned the young man over to a workbench where the set of hand molds lay. “Put your hands in the molds. I’ll put the top half on and screw them shut.”
First the left hand, then the right was placed in the molds. Zack tightened the twist bolts on each corner and set the timer for fifteen minutes. When it rang, the process was reversed and Logan looked at his hands. “They don’t look much different, but you’ve got a brand new set of prints! Feet next!”
The process was repeated for McBride’s feet and teeth. The final step was his face. “Ready, bud?”
The pickpocket swallowed and nodded. “Yeah. Let’s do this.”
Zack smeared the compound over the young man’s face and skull. Again, the plasticity gel brought an ashen pallor to the subject. On a long table, the back of the head mold waited.
“OK, Logan, put your head into the back portion of the mold. I’m going to put some tubes in your nose to let you breathe and reshape your nostrils when the front half gets locked on. Harry, will you help me get this in place?”
Zack and Treville positioned the mold onto the other man’s face and they proceeded to tighten the halves together. Harry saw his lover’s panicked breathing and reached out his hand to stroke the heaving chest. McBride’s fingers gripped the Latino’s wrist. “Don’t panic, Logan, I’m here… I’m here…”
Minutes passed. Zack checked his watch and finally unscrewed the mold, motioning Harry to help lift it off.
“Jeez!!! You’re Asian!”
The former pickpocket grinned and sat up. “Zack and I discussed several options and this was the one we both thought would be best. What do you think?”
“You look amazing!” Treville was stunned. “God, you look so damned sexy I can barely keep my hands off you!”
“I took a good looking Korean phenotype and added some Thai and Singaporean stock to it. I take you like what you’re seeing?”
“Hell yeah! Plus, like you said, no one would ever think this guy was Logan!”
“Can I have a mirror?” The newly converted Asian asked in a plaintive tone.
Zack shook his head and grinned. “Sorry, EJ. We’ve got the skin and eyes to do and then you can see the new you!”
“EJ?”
“Eun Jae Kim. Logan’s new name and identity. I’ve got all his personal history completed and ready to be electronically loaded. As well as ID and credit cards.”
* * *
After having his pucker and the areas between his toes dyed by hand, Logan was assisted up onto the platform to complete the dye job of his skin.
“The vapors for this dye are pretty strong, so I’m going to go slowly. If you feel dizzy or nauseous, yell out, okay? Wide stance, arms out, fingers spread and close your eyes.”
Treville nodded and soon was in nothing but a bright blue jockstrap. Logan grinned at the noticeable bulge at the Latino’s crotch. “Mmmm… I can’t wait to get some of that again…” Harry smiled. It was good to see Logan getting back to his normal, happy self.
After the detective donned an identical plastic coverall and respirator mask, Zack began the process with a large air brush. After each fine coat, Zack stopped and fully ventilated the area; thanks to that, the thief did not suffer any reactions to the fumes. Harry watched in wonder as his lover’s skin took on a deep golden hue.
“Final coat, fellas!” The last coat had a slightly more acrid scent to it. After it was done, Zack stripped off his respirator and turned on several space heaters and the fans. “Stay up on the perch, EJ. Let the warm air circulate for a few more minutes"
Once the artist was satisfied, the two men assisted the newly transformed Asian down. He looked at himself.
“Damn… This is amazing….”
“Now I have to touch up that strip on your soles that was on the platform. Eye dye next, and then you can take a look at yourself.” Seeing pale green eyes in an Asian face was jarring; the thought of having a drop-dead handsome Oriental lover was making Harry's tool nearly burst out of his jock.
EJ’s hissed in pain as Zack instilled the coloration liquid. “I know it burns, but don’t touch your eyes. The dye increases the amount of melanin in your iris. Count to sixty.”
EJ blinked as tears streamed down his face. Zack nodded in satisfaction. “I think two more applications will be enough. The dye goes in every fifteen minutes.” EJ’s eyes had already changed from a pale green to deeper hazel.
Zack picked up his phone and dialed a number. “Hey Tanner, it’s Zack. We’re nearly done here. You want to send your instructors over? Great! Thanks!”
He turned to the two men. “Captain Morgan is sending over some guys that will teach you Korean…” He held up his hands. “I don’t know how he’s going to do it, but he said by the time they finish, you’ll be fluent…”
“In the meantime, let’s get some clothing on you and something to drink." He gave a critical look at EJ. "I think it'll look more natural if I add a little bit of hair under your nose and on your jawline."
* * *
Tanner Morgan reached out mind-to-mind and told his twin brother halfway across the world to send the men over to Zack’s warehouse. The doors to the elevator opened up and he walked down the corridor to Sean Uresti’s office.
The killer cop was at his desk and looked puzzled when the dark haired police captain entered his office.
“Morgan, what are you doing here? You don’t have an appointment…?” He reached for his phone.
The Four-One commander held up a cellphone. “Don’t.”
Uresti froze. Suddenly, all of the electric and electronic equipment in the office dimmed and went out.
“What the…”
“I’d prefer we speak without any of your minions listening in.”
Tanner strolled over to the large picture window and looked out over the city and noticed with satisfaction the look of growing terror on the other man’s face.
He tossed the phone to the deputy commissioner. “That’s not Pritchard’s. It just has copies of all the films he’s made on it.”
The seated cop turned white and with shaking hands looked at the list of videos the burner phone contained.
“What do you want for this, Morgan? I never figured you for a dirty cop.”
Morgan turned to him. “I’m not. What I want is to see you disemboweled and then flayed, but I don’t think Mayor DiFazio will oblige me on that specific request.”
The shocked look brought a small grin to Tanner’s face. “Oh yes, the Mayor got one of these phones as well. He was all too happy to do whatever I said. It’s going to be quite entertaining to see all of his progressive cronies being fired over the next few weeks. And he’s finally going to pull up his big-boy pants and start acting the part of a responsible official.”
He strolled around the office. “And that drunkard toady of a police commissioner will be retiring. The choice of a pension or prison was a fairly easy decision for him as well.”
Tanner stopped and faced the other man. He removed his tinted glasses and his emerald eyes blazed. “YOU are going to give me a list of every cop and every official involved in your fucking scheme. And don’t even THINK of trying to protect anyone or falsely accuse an honest man. I already have the list and your behavior will determine whether or not one of these phones finds its way to Salvatore Giudice. My interrogator shattered Pritchard's mind when getting the information. Your driver is nothing but an empty husk now. You have two days.”
Tanner headed for the door. In a rage, Uresti opened a drawer and pulled out a Glock. “You goddamned sonofabitch!!” and pulled the trigger.
The bullet left the gun muzzle traveling at about 1,350 feet per second and with an energy of 480 foot-pounds behind it. The law of conservation of energy assumed control with a spectacular vengeance as the bullet stopped dead in its tracks eighteen inches in mid-air from Tanner Morgan. Kinetic energy converted immediately to heat as the lead blazed white hot and dropped to the floor. The molten metal burned a hole in the carpet and proceeded to eat through the flooring. The acrid smell of burning fiber and scorched concrete filled the office.
Uresti’s mouth dropped open in shock. “You’re not fucking human…”
Tanner’s hand was on the knob. The police captain turned once more to the killer. “I haven’t been human since I fought the Persians and died at Thermopylae… two days, Uresti. Two days. The angels themselves will weep at how I will make you suffer... and that's before Giudice lays a single finger on you. ”
Morgan laughed as he left the office.
The police captain reached out to his brother. My compliments to Captain McCullough for the kinetic converter. It was quite impressive in action... and many thanks to Dr. Mitchell for that line to use about Leonidas. I could smell it when he shit himself.
Uresti stared at the gun in his hand. With a convulsive gulp, he put it into his mouth and pulled the trigger.
* * *
“That was fast…” Zack looked at the CCTV cameras and the faces there matched those that Tanner Morgan had sent. He buzzed them in.
As soon as the two men entered the warehouse, Zack felt an overwhelming sense of lust and his cock began to swell and twitch. The taller of the two was an Arab – his sharp features held a cruel cast until a warm smile transformed his face. He was incredibly muscled and wore a tight white tank beneath a sleeveless leather vest. Faded blue jeans hugged every inch of his powerful lower frame. The other man was Asian. He too looked like he could break someone in half and was dressed in tight jeans and a sleeveless t-shirt that highlighted his slabbed pecs and cannonball traps. A bright white grin creased his face.The Arab made a slight bow. “You are Zack, I believe? It is indeed a pleasure to meet you. I am Gabi and this is Jason.” He spoke perfect English with the slightest of accents. He looked over to EJ and Harry. “And I take it that young man is to be my pupil?”
The other two men were responding to the newcomers in the same manner; Harry was still in his jockstrap when his erection peeked above the waistband. "Ohmigod... I'm so sorry..." Thoroughly embarassed, the Latino detective tried desperately to stuff his thick shaft back into the skimpy material.
Gabi waved the issue aside with a wry grin. "It is nothing... It happens all too often where I am stationed that we are all accustomed to it now."
“Y-yeah… thank you for coming so quickly, but I don’t know how I’m going to fake knowing Korean…”
“You shall not be ‘faking it’, my young friend.” He turned to Zack. “May I have two places to sit? Two stools or small chairs would be ideal…”
“Sure, Gabi – no problem.” Zack was intrigued as to what was going to happen.
The Arab placed the two seats side by side and sat down on one. He motioned EJ to take the other. Gabi reached out and held the transformed Asian’s face in his strong hands. Long fingers stroked down the sides of his face.
“Relax, habibi… breathe deeply with me.” Gabi continued to stroke EJ’s temples as he brought his face closer to the other man. Their foreheads touched; Gabi’s hands moved to stroke the broad shoulders of his pupil.
“That is it… clear your mind and continue to remain relaxed…”
EJ could feel the coolness of the Arab’s skin against his own. In a short time, the two were breathing deeply in cadence with each other. Slowly, a deep mental rapport between the two was established. Images, cognates, thoughts and words flooded into the pickpocket’s mind. Grammar, literature, history, legends, jokes and riddles followed. The flood slowly turned to a trickle, then the mental link softly closed. The Asian opened his eyes to a smiling Gabril.
“God, that was amazing!!”
Jason scribbled something onto a piece of paper and showed it to him.
Jason grinned. “What does this say, buddy?"
“Dangsin-eun mid-eul su eobs-eulmankeum jal saeng-gin namja ibnida” He looked embarrassed. “Jeez, thanks…”
“You can read that?”
EJ was amazed. “Yeah… it says, ‘You know you’re a fucking stud, don’t you?’ ..."
All present chuckled. Gabi looked at Harry. “While I am here, would you like to learn the Korean tongue as well?”
EJ and Jason were now talking rapidly in Korean to each other. The man who accompanied Gabi gave him a smile and a thumbs-up. "Absolutely perfect, Gabi! Great job!"
“You can do that?”
The Arab’s dark face was split by a bright grin. “I am certain there will be times you will wish to whisper sweet nothings into your lover’s ear…” He patted the chair. “Please be seated.”
* * *
“I wanted to give you this.” He handed Giudice a cell phone. "If you look at the SNUFF directory, Mr. Guidice, you’ll see who the real killer of James Schroeder was. The press conference scheduled for tonight will make the announcement. Deputy Commissioner Sean Uresti committed suicide and the acting Police Commissioner is instigating a sweeping investigation into this criminal conspiracy.”
The syndicate leader was quiet as he watched the murder scene play out. He shook his head. “What a waste… those poor kids losing their father... I take it you - convinced - this piece of shit Uresti to do the right thing?”
Tanner gave a slight incline of his head. “I made him see the light, Sir...” He paused. “... or rather, I booted him into it. As I did with the Mayor and the former PC. I should stress that the Mayor has only a year left in office and James Carson is no longer a police officer as of today. Revenge is a dish always best served cold. Zack tells me you're a very patient man... when it comes to certain... activities....???”
“Ahh…” Giudice grinned. “Zackie has nothing but praise for you and your guys. I can see why. Thank you for bringing this to my attention.”
“My pleasure, Sir.” Morgan rose to leave.
“Please... call me Sal. I believe I owe you a favor, Captain…” The commander shook his head. “Your friendship is enough, Mr. Guidice.... Sal. Please don’t hesitate to call me if you ever need my assistance - and please call me Tanner.”
* * *
My “Aha!” moment came when I watched the movie “Loosies” with Peter Fascinelli. This story is about a young pickpocket doing all the wrong things for all the right reasons and the trouble that ensues. The idea of EJ originally being a pickpocket was perfect and the story began to coalesce.
I also have been in a somewhat dark mood lately, as evidenced by the tone and topics of my “Thug Tales” and “Breeding” story arcs. I find that my mood has lightened a good deal and along with the previous story of “C-Note”, I wanted to do another lighter and happier story.
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