A Jack O'Callahan Mystery: Black Leather and Blackmail, Issue #5

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Warning: This post may contain mature content.

     They stepped out into a room with red walls and black trim. A leather couch and matching love seat sat nestled in the corner. A black semi-circular desk was positioned in front of a long hallway. A woman wearing a black Mandarin style leather dress with a deep purple trim. Her make up was dark and made her eyes stand out. Her neon purple hair was smooth and hung over one eye. David noticed a black leather collar around her thin neck. She looked up as David and Jenn approached. She smiled displaying her perfect teeth.
     “Good Afternoon, you must be Miss Bianco.” welcomed the woman.
     “Yes, but please, call me Jenn,” requested Jenn. David looked at the ground.
     “As you wish,” stated the woman, “Do you have any preferences for a room?”
     “I was thinking something homely; something comfortable,” requested Jenn. The woman turned to a computer screen and her fingers began to dance across the keyboard.
     “The Red Room is available,” said the woman, turning the screen, so Jenn and David could see it. The room was painted with a deep crimson paint.  A four poster bed of dark stained wood was covered in deep red sheets. A large mirror hung on the wall and a large x-frame with leather cuffs leaned against a wall. David and Jenn shared a quick look.
     “Yes. That would be perfect,” cooed Jenn. The woman behind the desk, spun in her chair and stood. 
     “If you would follow me please,” she said, gesturing for them to follow her. They walked around the desk and followed the woman down the hallway. As soon as David stepped into the hallway, a buzz echoed as a red light flashed. The woman spun around and glared at them. She held out her pale hand.
     “We do not allow weapons in our dungeon,” she said in a severe tone. Jenn looked at David, with the same intensity. 
     “Well! Give it to her!” commanded Jenn. David jumped. He reached into his jacket, unhooked the retention strap on his holster and withdrew his pistol. He handed the pistol to the woman.
     “You can have this back when you leave,” she assured him. She spun back around and continued down the hall. She led them to a door, which she opened. Inside was the room displayed on the screen. 
     “Mistress Joy will be with you momentarily,” informed the woman as they stepped inside. 
     “Thank you,” said Jenn. The woman closed the door, leaving David and Jenn alone. David looked around.
     “Alright, we only have a few moments before she comes back,” said David. 
     “Right. So if this is where he was tied… The camera had to have been…” Jenn pointed to the corner, “There.” David moved over to the corner. 
     “Yeah, look! There is a camera here… Albeit a small one,” said David. He jumped as he heard the door opening. In the door was a woman in a black tight leather pencil skirt; a leather corset accentuated her curves and pushed her chest into a nearly impossible bust line. Her legs were smooth, and long. Her five-inch stiletto platform heels gave a dominating height and presence. Her deep brunette hair hung to her shoulders, framing a square, yet feminine jawline. 
     “Mistress Joy?” asked Jenn. The woman smiled, nodded and shut the door.

*****
     It was raining when Jack arrived at Cordell’s apartment. He stood outside her apartment door, thinking. What is this city coming to? Blackmail with out money demands? Mysterious voices on phones… Shit. This town is going to hell. He reached up and knocked on the door. Cordell opened the door with a big smile on her face, but the smile was wiped from her face when she looked at Jack.
     “What’s wrong?” she asked. 
     “Got a lot on my mind,” muttered Jack. 
     “Well come on in,” said Cordell stepping aside. Jack stepped in. Cordell helped him pull his coat off and hung it in the closet. She also picked his hat off his head and hung it on a peg. She led him to the living room. Jack plopped down on the couch, taking a deep breath. Cordell slid next to him.
     “So what’s bothering you?” she asked. God damn it. You can’t tell her. Tell her about the voice, but not what the voice said about her. She loves you. You can trust her.
     “Just work stuff. I got this really strange call about a month ago. I haven’t been able to put it out of my head,” explained Jack. Cordell brushed her lips across his cheek. 
     “Who called you?” she asked.
     “I don’t know. It was this woman’s voice. It was smooth and soft, but incredibly intimidating,” murmured Jack. Cordell straightened. Jack looked at her, “What?”
     “There has been rumors circulating the runner community about a mysterious voice handing out threats, and if the person didn’t comply, they vanished. I mean like gone. No record,” reported Cordell.
     “Well, I’m still here,” said Jack. 
     “I’m glad,” said Cordell. She laid her head on his shoulder.
     “Me too… Me too.” Jack exhaled, “Oh, I have something for you. It’s for a case.”
     “Sure! What is it?” she asked. Jack reached into his pocket and pulled out the flash drive the alderman gave him.
     “This. I need you to find out where these pictures came from, originally,” requested Jack. Cordell plucked the flash drive from Jack’s fingers.
     “Let’s take a look.” She grinned. She got up and walked into the other room. She returned carrying a laptop. She sat next to Jack and opened the screen. She plugged the flash drive in and began to view the files.
     “Whoa…” she breathed as she scrolled through the pictures.
     “Can you find it?” asked Jack
     “Yeah. No problem,” she said. She began to run a program. “Though, It is going to take a while.” She set the laptop on the coffee table. She swung her leg over Jack lap, and pressed her lips against his. Their tongues intertwined and Jack pulled her close. He wrapped his arms around her waist and they fell to the couch.

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A Jack O'Callahan Mystery: The Curious Death of Mr. Grove, Issue #5

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http://fc01.deviantart.net/fs70/f/2011/126/e/0/night_soldier_by_graphiclayer-d3fplek.png

     Jack looked around him. He was in a war torn city. He was wearing digital patterned camouflage fatigues and ballistic combat armor. A patch on his right shoulder displayed a black raven clutching a spear, emblazoned on a field of light grey. His gloved hands cradled a Drachen K52 Combat Rifle.  His helmet was connected to his brain via neural interface, so he could think commands and his helmet would respond. The helmet’s HUD displayed his GPS location, radio channel, display mode, total ammunition capacity, the number of rounds in his rifle, a mini map and the date and time; APRL12:2031//01:21:51. He was crouched in the first floor of what he could only guess was what used to be a restaurant. The street outside was abandoned. The sounds of combat could be heard in the distance. The gun shots were a symphony of pops and cracks. Jack looked around. It was incredibly dark. He switched his HUD to night vision. His vision became clear in a varying shades of green.  A pair of helicopters roared over head. Searchlights swept the street. Jack stayed hidden against the back wall of the restaurant. The helicopters flew away after a couple of minutes. He stood, levels his rifle and moved toward the tall ceiling to floor windows at the front of the building. He crouched behind a table. He selected the scan option in his HUD. He peered out into the street looking at the skeletons of buildings. The scan convinced him that he was alone. Taking a deep breath he leveled his rifle and stepped out into the street. Even though his scan had told him there was no one in the surrounding buildings his head was still a swivel as he entered the rubble strewn street. As he came to an intersection he noticed a human form laying in the street. The body was wearing the same armor as him. He stalked over the body and crouched to get a better look. Four bullet holes were in the front and back of the armor. Blood was splattered all around the body. The smell of iron and a recently expired body filled his nostrils. He put is arm to his mouth and repressed his gag reflex. He turned the body over. A young pale face stared up at him with lifeless eyes. He squeezed his eyes shut. Shit. This trig has got to be only eighteen. he thought. He reached into the body’s collar and withdrew a pair of dog tags. He pulled on off and looked at it.

Wynter, Monty

DOB: 4/24/2014
OGS-TG-8224-60895-C-AB+

     Fuck, he would have turned eighteen in twelve days. He hung his head and closed the boys eyes. The sound of a motor echoed through the streets. His adrenaline spiked and he spun around. He ducked into a bar just as an armored car came rolling down the street. He looked out the window. The armored car had stopped just down the street and soldiers were jumping out. He counted five all together. One was giving orders to the others.

     “Spread out! I want this block secured!” The soldiers flicked on helmet lamps and began to walk up the street. One began to move towards Jack’s hiding spot. Jack slipped behind the bar and crouched out of site. He could see light front the headlamp sweep through the bar. He held his breath and clutched his rifle. The light beam passed over head and disappeared. Jack released his breath, his heart was pounding. He began to move towards the kitchen. His boot nudged a bottle which slid across the floor with a clink! He froze. The light didn't come back. He slipped into the kitchen, out the back door and into the alley. Just as he stepped outside, he saw someone turn into the alley and began to move straight towards him. He crouched behind a dumpster and drew his combat knife. The figure approached and passed him. Jack descended on the soldier wrapped his had around their mouth and pulled his blade across their throat.  There was a gurgle and blood poured from the wound. The soldier flailed against Jack’s grip. He felt blood spray onto his fingertips. The body stopped moving and Jack laid them quietly on the ground. He looked at the face. It was a young woman, she couldn’t have been older than the boy in the street. He looked down at his hands in disgust. Beads of blood dripped off the blade and onto the hot pavement. The girls neck was stained red. He wiped the blade on his pant leg and slit it back into it’s sheath. He squeezed his eyes shut.

     When his eyes reopened he was laying in his bed. The fan whirred overhead. It was just a dream. That’s in the past. Tears were in his eyes. He looked over at the clock on his bedside table; 03:41:12\\ 09-01-2043. He let out a deep breath and stared up at the ceiling. 

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Issue #6: Coming Wednesday June 25th!!!!