Jack Of All Trades (Erotica)

“I got one better than that. This place made me think of those old movies involving drug smugglers. They used small planes and flew really low to avoid detection. I tapped into the weather imaging satellites and found a thermographic image of this region taken about an hour ago. There is an anomalous heat signature about two hundred miles due west where nothing should be. The streak pattern it made could be the exhaust from a propeller plane. Internal combustion engines give off a lot of heat.”

“Where would it land?” Gee asked intensely.This content © Nôv/elDr(a)m/a.Org.

“Only two places along that course and one is owned by the air force so that’s not a likely candidate. The other is next to a Gate Shipping Terminus. Where goods are placed in shipping containers for sending through the larger gates at the Los Angeles Gate Terminal.”

“THAT’S IT! That’s how they are going to get Jack off planet!” Gee yelped and started to run for the personnel carrier. Bal was right behind her and the others quickly caught up. Once they were inside the Major barked out an order to head for Los Angeles at top speed.

“We have a little problem, Major. We’ve been flying a maximum speed all night so we’re going to have to stop to refuel. That means stopping in Baker but they have no rapid recharging stations. It will take thirty minutes to recharge there. We could reach Barstow which does have rapid recharging stations if we didn’t use top speed. But we’ll lose more time that way.”

“FUCK! Get us to Baker!” the Major barked and the carrier lifted immediately. She cursed herself once more for not listening to the Altarian. She wouldn’t make that mistake twice. “Ray, get me in touch with the Los Angeles Gate Terminal.”

Moments later a face appeared on the screen before Ash. “Los Angeles Gate Terminal, how may I direct your call?”

“This is Major Cha’Risa Ash of Earth’s Security Council Force. I’m placing the Commercial section of the Terminal on lockdown. The Altarian Ambassador Jack Danner has been abducted and we believe he is being smuggled off planet through one of the cargo gates.”

The man’s face showed his shock. “I’ll have to contact my supervisor.”

“DO IT NOW!” the Major barked. The screen snapped to the hold image of the Terminal buildings at night. A current image. Sappy music played and the Major groaned.

A minute later the image snapped back to the clerk. He looked definitely frazzled. “Uh, I can’t locate my supervisor and the Terminal Administrator isn’t answering her comm. I don’t have access to the codes needed for a lock down!”

“Find them and lock it down! Contact me when it’s done!” she growled and hung up.

“Holy fuck! What does it take to light a fire under their asses!” she said incredulously.

“Maybe you could just order an airstrike and set the place on fire,” Ray said with a grin.

****

Fuck he was hot! Jack struggled to breathe. His head pounded from his repeated experiences with the shock stick but he opened his eyes and saw he was now chained to a metal rack inside a long metal box. It looked like a shipping container. Like the ones they shipped products through the gates to other worlds in. He got a really bad feeling about this.

He was wearing a breathing mask but it was too loose and the scorching temperatures in the container were drying out his lungs. He couldn’t snug down the straps on his mask so… he was going to die.

Crap, crap, CRAP!

His head slammed back against the rack and a hand covered the face plate of his mask. The straps were pulled tight and the cool moist air being fed to the mask were a welcome balm for his lungs.

The hand pulled away and he could see a man standing in front of him. He was wearing his own protective mask but he also had a suit to protect his skin. The leather and rhinestones weren’t doing much to keep the moisture in Jack’s body.

Jack looked closer at the man inside the mask. The scruffy beard was new but he recognized him! “Director Goodson?”

“No, just Goodson now. I no longer work for the agency. You should know that. You’ve had them hunting for me since… since before you turned into a freak.”

“Hey, I’m not badmouthing your crazed lunatic beard… oops.” Jack jabbed back.

“As much as I’d like to rip that mask off and watch you shrivel into a sad little raisin, my customer wants you alive and is paying me a great deal of money to deliver you in that state. So for now it’s just good night.”

“But I’m not sleepy! Tell me a story! You know, the one where you think you’re going to get a lot of money for me but really you’re just going to end up dead in a gutter on some alien world. Discarded like so much trash.”

The man glowered at him but Jack had scored a point. There was real fear in the man’s eyes. Fear and doubt. Jack could work with that.

“Seriously, tell me what you’re involved in. I may be able to help,” Jack ventured.

Goodson scowled and reached up beside the breathing mask. Jack heard a hissing noise and his vision began to go blurry.

“No! Wait…” he started then darkness.

Cold. Jack’s mind protested the ping ponging between temperature extremes. A shiver shook through his body and he suddenly needed to vomit. His eyes flashed open and he saw he was still wearing the mask so he fought the nausea with everything he had and barely kept it down.

His body continued to shake but in his weakened state even that was feeble.

He heard voices in the distance, still too far away to recognize words, so he took in his surroundings. Still chained to the rack but no longer in the shipping container. He wasn’t sure what that meant.

“I don’t understand why I can’t deal directly with the client!” argued a voice he recognized, Goodson.

“They don’t works without a middlemans. I keeps telling yous” replied a slurring voice Jack didn’t recognize. “I verify the products is genuine and yous get paid and leaves. That’s how it’s done.”

Goodson grumbled and opened the door leading into the room where Jack remained on the rack.

They walked in and Goodson reached up and yanked the mask off of Jack’s head roughly. He stepped aside so the other being could see Jack clearly.

The short scaled Sinosian stepped forward to peer up at Jack’s face. It had pox all over its body and rot had set in. It probably didn’t have long to live.

The stench hit Jack and his weakened stomach rebelled. He couldn’t hold it back this time so his stomach contents surged up and out, over the face and body of the Sinosian. It screamed in terror as it tripped over its own feet in its haste to escape and fell onto its back.

“YOUS POISONS ME!” it wailed trying to scrape the stuff from its scales.

Goodson watched the Sinosian with amusement. “It’s just vomit. He had a reaction to the gas. Don’t get so excited!”

The Sinosian went into shock, trembled violently, and died. Goodson stared at it in dismay and just a little panic.

Jack saw movement by the doorway and saw the three cowled figures enter the room.

“Oh fuck.” Jack moaned in dread.

“Exactly! Oh fuck! That was my contact!” Goodson growled.

“No. You made a deal with the Allsa Komanae? They don’t honor deals. We’re both good as dead.”

Goodson looked up to see the three cowled figures standing before them.

“Mr. Goodson. You attempted to sell our product to a Sinosian? You tried to double cross us?” said the Allsa Komanae in the center, menacingly.

“No! He said he represented you-”

“LIES!!!” the voice hissed harshly.

“Hold on-”

“Save your breath Goodson. They hired the Sinosian so they could accuse you of cheating them. They probably poisoned the fool so he’d die as they arrived. It’s how these bastards operate.” Jack growled.

Goodson stared at Jack, the hate in his eyes plain to see.

“Hey, you’re the one making deals with the devil. This mess is on you man. You’ve killed us both.” Jack wheezed as his strength ran out. He rested his head back against the rack as he looked at the three, waiting for his death.

“Now wai-” Goodson stepped forward and found himself impaled upon a fine metallic filament. It didn’t hurt… until all he felt was pain. Every nerve in his body was screaming in absolute, unending agony. He couldn’t even make a sound though his jaw dropped open in a rictus of despair. There was a sudden crackling sound and Goodson toppled onto his back. Jack looked down to see the expression of agony frozen on the man’s face, his eyes bright red from the burst blood vessels. Jack shuddered and closed his eyes.

“It’s your turn Mr. Danner. Would you like to beg for your life?” the cold voice from the cowl whispered in delight.

“No.”

There was a pause. “No?”

“You hold no significance. I no longer see you.” Jack decided he’d go out giving his foes one last kick in the balls. He’d learned the Allsa Komanae’s greatest obsession was status. Mattering mattered most to them. So, they did not exist. The ultimate insult.

Three almost identical squeals of rage vented from three cowls and went on and on. Yet… he was alive. Interesting.

Middle guy’s scream went up another octave as Jack looked away undisturbed by their outburst. The Allsa Komanae began to attack but was quickly knocked to the ground by the others and stomped a few times. His squeals became high pitched plaintive wails and the stomping immediately stopped. A little push and shove ensued between the two still on their feet then the one on the left took center position. The one on the ground picked itself up and took its new position. The new center reached out and touched Jack’s throat with a metal rod and Jack’s nerves overloaded. As he tumbled into oblivion he worried about the effect these constant shocks might have.