FM – Damien Black (Futuristic Erotic Crime)

Here are the opening chapters to something I'm working on. Let me know if you'd like more:

INTRODUCTION

He didn’t know where he was, but the transporter had hummed along for nearly an hour. He already knew he was in deep, deeper than usual, but this meant bad news. Usually he’d try to run, a simple white and blue picking him up (if they could) before even ID’ing him, but this time was a different story. Both hands were locked in code protected, aeon cuffs, same as his ankles – the finest 22nd century shackles tax payer money can buy. The techies don’t skimp on the fail safes, not anymore, he thought. Suddenly, the ship began to shake. Vibrating, deep noise filled his ears and those of the four armoured men sitting in the back watching him as they hovered into landing position. After a moment of chugging gears and steam, they set down softly, the engine calming into an electronic hiss. The watch team told him to stand up. I was just getting comfy, he said. The back gate slid open quickly to show the ten guards waiting on his arrival, fully geared up. One stepped forward and signalled those inside to move out.

“Damien Black,” said the one in charge in a distorted, anatomical buzz through his mask. “You have been charged with murder in the first degree. Follow us.”

Damien stood up and paused. These weren’t cops, at least not the regular kind. This wasn’t the city jail or the precinct either. For once, he didn’t know what the hell was going on and, for once, he was innocent.

CHAPTER 1: THE MAN IN THE SUIT

“Easy boys, no need to rush.”

The robotic looking officers in their dark blue and black cybernetic suits walked in a circle around him, leading him God knows where down a long dark hallway covered in cameras, the ceiling 40 feet high, the black walls only 8 feet wide. Damien walked, standing inches above the other men. He was tired, having been woken up in the early morning with the bang of his door being broken down followed by a short run and him breaking three arms and a leg. Less than usual, he had thought. What a shame. He didn’t show this though, he never did. Black had endless energy when needed.

They moved through the empty pathway and into one of eight unmarked elevators, shooting them down. They exited on a floor that appeared to be a control room covered in telescreens and holographic design modules. It was blindingly white and workers in white shirts flowed by, barely noticing him. Too many pen protectors, Damien noticed. In the center hovered a pinpoint map of the state with glowing dots blinking within it. The lead officer received a buzz in his ear piece and nodded before directing the group towards a certain door at the other end.

“No tour? I feel gipped.”

The lead swiftly took his baton and hit Damien in the ribs, dropping him slightly. He coughed but quickly recovered. His torso throbbed.

“No talking.”

The lab coats began taking notice of their guest as he stomped forward in his thick, black boots with ten guards, on top of those lining the room. They stopped to stare, some of the women more than others at his dark, cropped hair and the veins on his biceps that protruded from the short sleeves of his light blue Skin Suit that was now torn and covered in dirt. Sweat dripped from his brow. He needed a shave.

They entered the small office that had no windows, only a desk and two chairs. Damien went to sit but they pulled him up. Soon a man in a dark suit walked in. Immediately the air felt different. He was still tense but something was up. They hadn’t spoken two words, but he knew he hadn’t spoken to someone this important in a long time.

“Ah, Mr. Damien Black, finally up close and personal. Most people who have seen your face don’t seem to live very long.”

“Well, lucky for you I’m in these,” he grunted, eyeing his chains. “Take those as a compliment.”

The man sat. Damien slumped into the chair opposite letting out a deep breath.

“So, you killed Grant Thoroughby, the lawyer. Want to talk about it?”

“Don’t I get a phone call or a bathroom break?”

“Let’s just say you’re not exactly at the precinct.”

“So I’ve noticed. The shit smells a bit different here.”

“We found Thoroughby’s brains on his kitchen wall. Mind explaining that, Damien?”

“A. I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about. B. I don’t know who the fuck you are.”

“True. I’m Agent Burke and you are at the state’s R-CAT headquarters. After what’s been going on here and in that kitchen, we needed to bring you in one way or another.”

Damien looked up at the ceiling, thinking.

“R-CAT: Refugee Capture and Transmission. We’re having particular difficulty with someone I don’t think you particularly like Black. Does the name Ivan Rasmus mean anything to you?”

Damien sucked in his breath and stared. This name, Ivan Rasmus, had been burned in his mind for ten years. The two had a lot of history, but he also thought Ivan was dead.

“Maybe it does.”

“I never liked Grant Thoroughby. Guy was a prick, tipped poorly, treated his wife like shit, probably deserved that 9mm you slugged through his head. Point is, a lot of other people are upset. What I’m more upset about are the 2.5 million data files that have gone missing over the last three months.”

“And this Ivan Rasmus, you’re sure he’s involved?”

“Him and his new crew, we’re fairly positive. He’s like you though: you get too close, you get burned. I want you to get close and burn him.”

Damien looked around the room. “I don’t have much of a choice do I?”

“Choice is an illusion, Black. With your skillset and from what I understand about Mr. Rasmus, I think you’d rather enjoy this. That and the immunity you’ll get if you finish the job.”

“What’s the catch? Dead or alive?”

“Either. The catch is you’ll be working with a partner, our top intelligence officer on the case.”

“I don’t do partners.”

CHAPTER 2: THE JOB

Agent Tate had woken up and began her morning routine, the same she had done for the last 12 months. Though it had become a routine, she had recently grown weary of it. Her job had become increasing difficult and more stressful with less and less time for herself, but that didn’t matter to Tate. All of this had only caused her to become more and more focused on her current case. The more she failed, the more she was dedicated to finishing the job. Her ex-boyfriend of six months did not seem to mind this.

Today would be an especially hard day, but she told herself she was ready for whatever Agent Burke had to say. Right now though, everything was routine, its normalcy an escape from whatever life would throw at her for the next ten, eleven or twelve hours she would work. It was also an escape from the lingering thoughts that what she did was dangerous, but these had been pushed aside long ago. She liked to take risks, but she also lived within the confines of the system.

She showered quickly, but washed her long blonde hair with care. She was tall and the twin suns had touched her skin lightly. One of the few perks of working outdoors, she had thought. The warm water that hit her would be Tate’s final comfort of the day, her morning companion. Everything after this was uphill, but the challenge was welcome and renewed her conviction daily.

She slipped into her work issued Skin Suit and tied her hair back tight behind her head without a thought before grabbing her bag. Time to go. Time to find this bastard.

At headquarters, something was off. Tate could tell the desk fillers were distracted as they milled about. Things seemed quieter. Maybe it was a slow day for them, but the presence of 20 additional guards was also suspicious.

“What are you doing here?”

Adam had moved from upstairs down to the control room to direct the Central Mapping team. This was after the two had been partners over a year ago and after the case had nearly killed him. The frustration had gotten to him, she wouldn’t let it get to her.

“Meeting with Burke. I know, unusual seeing me down here.”

“It is, but I don’t mind. It’s good seeing you.”

Adam never asked about the case. Tate knew he meant well, but he had become too soft for her working downstairs. He used to be a good detective, someone who showed her the ropes at R-CAT, but Adam had let the fear win. Once this happened, he was a different person. There had always been tension on the job between them, even a kiss despite him being married, but she no longer had felt this. This was a long time ago though. This is when she allowed herself to be distracted.

She checked her watch and walked to Burke’s door, punching in her identification and verifying it. “Katherine Tate, 8831.” She wanted to get this over with and start following her new leads.

“Ah, Tate. Right on time, how punctual.”

Katherine stopped in her tracks. Burke sat behind his desk with a grin as normal but in front of him stood six gear heads and some tall renegade who looked like he had a been on the wrong side of a bar fight.

“What’s this? I thought we were having a meeting, sir.”

“This is the meeting, don’t you worry. Close the door.”

She did and walked to the other side of the room, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed. Tate did not know what to expect and glanced at both Burke and the scruffy character sitting in the nearby chair. He raised his head enough to make eye contact. She immediately looked away, his eyes were a piercing light blue, above one a scar. He looked worn down, but powerful in his stature.

“Who is the girl?” Damien mumbled to Burke.

“Tate, I know you’re having issues with your case. We need a change. We need those files.”

“What do you mean a change? I’ve been working on this for almost a year, sir. I’ve got new leads that I’m about to follow up on.”

“That’s no good, we need results, we needed them a month ago.”

“I’ve worked too DAMN hard and I’ve gotten too close to stop.”

“You have had ENOUGH time. Do not raise your voice, Agent.”

“Sir, I’ve proven my capabilities. I’m a damn good detective and I’ve almost got this creep, I’m almost there.”

“If you say so, good because you are not off this case, Tate. Meet your new partner as of today, Damien Black.”

Katherine’s brain ceased function. In front of her was one of the most wanted unseen rebels of the state and the country over. Everyone had heard stories about Damien Black, black market pirate, and now here he was in the flesh. She couldn’t help but stare at him now, his square jaw, his chest stretching the fiber of his suit, the front of his hair falling in front of his face. Somehow Tate felt sorry for him, possibly because of his current condition, but she was sure he somehow deserved it. Finally, she returned to reality.

“Screw this, I’ll find this Rasmus on my own, captain asshole. Don’t need the girl.”

“Damien, she has all the info. She’s smart and she has an in on the street.”

“Excuse me? Burke, I don’t need him, I don’t need a partner, I’m doing just fine.”

“And you haven’t nailed him yet have you? That’s why I’m here, honey. I’m sure you’re easy on the eyes in the field, but I know what I’m doing.”

Agent Tate was taken aback. He had a deep, throaty voice and a faint accent she didn’t expect and couldn’t place. No one had commented on her appearance in so long it confused her but she was too angry to dwell on this.

“Damien Black? I won’t be surprised if you run out on us or find a way to botch the job. I’m in this for the long haul. You’re just here because you’ve run out of options, jackoff.”

Suddenly, Black stood up and delivered a fist to the gut of the lead officer, lifting him off his feet. The aeonic cuffs lied on the floor next to where the guard began to cough blood.

“You’re a terrible tour guide.”

Burke waved off the others who had begun to draw their batons and psi-picks. Tate stood in place, slightly shaken, her eyes wide. Everything had happened so suddenly, but Black wasn’t even fazed.

“Look,” Damien said directly to her, “this guy is a killer. Rasmus will kill you and your family. And if you don’t have a family, he’ll kill you twice. If you were close, you’d be dead by now.”

His words rang through her ears, but she understood this already. She was tougher than he could imagine, or so she thought. His eyes lingered over her body. Her Skin Suit was just that, skin tight. Years of being prepared for anything had kept her body thin and firm.

Damien began to walk out. “I’m done here.”

“You start tomorrow,” Burke yelled after him. “Get rested.”

To this, Burke was given the North American gesture for ‘fuck off’.

“Get to know your new partner…and try to keep him in line.”

Tate glared at Burke before following out, running to catch up to a man who minutes ago she only knew as a myth. In the back of her mind she knew he had done and seen things she would never experience, but none of that justified his attitude.

“Quite an introduction. I don’t know what you think you’re doing, but if you’re going to do this, I mean really do it, I’m in 100%.”

“Save me the pep talk. I’m in this to get out of THIS,” he mentioned quietly, looking around the room, bending down to Tate’s level. “And back to what it is I do.”

“Fine, but we need to work together, OK? I have a way of doing things and it WILL help lead us to our man.”

Agent Tate always remembered what Damien Black said next before he walked away: “Things change.” And they did.

Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/2ot8qv/fm_damien_black_futuristic_erotic_crime