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In the Ring Page 3


  He put his case on the end of the bed, and extended a hand. Dark hair on the wrist, a blue-and-white striped shirt cuff. No rings. “Ethan Oliver.”

  We shook. “Agent Oliver?”

  “If you wish. But we’re not using ranks or titles.”

  “Okay. Mr. Oliver.”

  “You can call me Ethan. I’ll call you Dan, for now at least.”

  “Before I get my new identity.”

  “Exactly so. Mind if I sit?”

  “Be my guest.”

  He pulled up a chair and sat opposite me. “How’s your leg?”

  “Mending.”

  “Good, good. They say you’re making great progress.”

  “I’m doing my best.”

  “Are you satisfied with the quality of your care?”

  “What is this? Market research?” He smiled.

  “We want the best for you.”

  “I see.” Had they recruited Luiz? Was he some kind of CIA nurse-whore? “That’s very considerate of you.”

  “You’ve probably been wondering what you’re doing here.”

  “Getting my leg fixed?”

  “I mean all the security. The secrecy. I don’t know how much Major General Hamilton told you.”

  “You know exactly what Major General Hamilton told me.”

  He glanced at his neat fingernails, then smiled. “I wouldn’t be doing my job properly if I didn’t.”

  “So let’s not bother with any pretense. Are you going to brief me? Or is this an audition?”

  “It’s certainly not an audition, Dan. We’ve had our eyes on you for some time. We know all about you.”

  “Is that so?”

  “You’re not exactly low profile. Even when you were in between postings . . .”

  “When I was thrown out of the marines for being gay, you mean?”

  “That’s it. You couldn’t seem to keep yourself out of the news.”

  “I didn’t want any of that. I just wanted a quiet life.”

  “Tell that to the marines, as they say.”

  “Very funny.”

  “Fortunately, we managed to contain the stories. We kept your photo out of the media as much as possible.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “We’ve been monitoring you for a long time, Dan.”

  “How long?”

  “Since your discharge in 2009.”

  “Why?”

  “Because men like you are useful.”

  “Gay men?”

  He waggled his hand. “Let’s say attractive people, no matter what their gender or sexuality.”

  “Okay. I know how to fuck, and I know how to kill. What does that make me? James Bond?”

  “If you like, yes.”

  I looked him in the eye, wondering who would blink first. Hmm. Not him.

  “Go on.”

  “When we identify a potential operative, we need to establish a degree of anonymity around him or her.”

  “So I don’t get recognized when I go undercover?”

  “Exactly. We’ve suppressed most of the published images of you. You were never very active on social media.”

  “My ex-boyfriend tried to get me on there.”

  “Jody Miller. Yes. Those accounts are now shut down.”

  “And how is Jody? You’ve probably seen him more recently than I have.”

  “He’s fine.”

  “Good to know.”

  ‘You weren’t thinking of contacting him, were you.” It was not a question.

  “Supposing I was?”

  “That would be unfortunate.”

  “For who?”

  “For the mission.”

  “Ah, the mission. I thought for a moment you were threatening me.”

  “Mmmm.” He scratched his chin, which made a pleasant crackling sound. “The reports were right. You’re aggressive.”

  “Is that what they said?”

  “That’s what they said. And that’s why we want you.”

  I couldn’t think of a smart reply to that one.

  “Have you ever been to Britain, Dan?”

  “Only to change planes.”

  “Do you know anyone there?”

  “You tell me.”

  “No. You don’t.”

  “Correct. Please don’t bother asking me questions to which you already know the answer. It’ll save a lot of time.”

  “Are you in a hurry?”

  Sarcastic little fuck. One day, Agent Oliver, I am going to punish you for this. “My leg fucking hurts and I want some painkillers and I want to sleep.”

  That seemed to get through. “Sorry. I’ll try to keep to the point. You’re going to be sent to England, to work closely with MI6.”

  “So I really am James Bond, then.”

  “Up to a point. You remain in the service of the United States Marine Corps. But they have seconded

  you to the CIA.”

  “And you’re lending me to MI6. Understood. What’s the objective?”

  “You will penetrate an organization that we believe is funding extreme right-wing groups in the US.”

  “And kill them all.”

  “No. This is an intelligence mission.”

  “Then why are you using someone whose skill set is limited to fucking and killing?”

  “Your control in London will fill you in on the details.”

  “Am I going to be told anything before I go?”

  “You’ll be told enough.”

  “And if I have questions?”

  “Then you must ask them, of course.”

  Yeah, I thought, and you’ll do your best not to answer them.

  “Why is this important? I mean, there are crazy extremist groups all over the place. What makes these guys special?”

  “The FBI recently uncovered a plot to set off a radiation device that could have killed thousands of civilians, including government officials.”

  “I heard about that. Some racist nutjob.”

  “That’s what got into the news media.”

  “Carefully controlled by you, of course.”

  “Not just by us—but yes, there is some agency input into news releases.”

  “What was the truth, then?”

  “We think that this particular group was part of a wider network. We’ve made some arrests, and as far as the media is concerned that’s the end of the story. But there’s compelling evidence that they have links to other small groups who have been attacking just about every target you can imagine. Mosques, women’s refuges, abortion clinics, LGBT centers.”

  “Nice.”

  “And if you follow the money, several of them are being funded by the same source in the UK.”

  “Why not just bust them?”

  “Because we don’t have proof.”

  “Does that matter?”

  “Up to a point. But we think they’re planning something big. We need a man on the inside. That’s how the FBI stopped them last time. They had someone from the Ku Klux Klan cooperating with them.”

  “I see. And this time, you need a queer.”

  “Yes.”

  I guess the look on my face was pretty eloquent.

  “Well,” said Oliver, “you told me not to beat around the bush. You know perfectly well that we don’t think gay men are the equivalent of KKK members. I don’t need to explain that to you.”

  “And why do you need a gay man?”

  “Because we think it will help you to penetrate the UK operation.”

  Another staring match. This time I blew it completely, and laughed. “Are you for real?”

  He allowed himself a slight smile. He had nice white teeth. Sharp. “Oh, yes.”

  “So I go to England, I penetrate, I report back to MI6—and then what?”

  “You will be given further instructions as the operation proceeds.”

  “In other words, you don’t know.”

  “It depends on what you find out. As I said, we think there is something big in
the works. It may involve you.”

  “You mean you want me to become part of a terror plot?”

  “It may be necessary.”

  “And I might get killed when you come storming in at the end. Is that right?”

  “You know about operational risks, Dan.”

  “And if I survive? Do I ever get to be Dan Stagg again?”

  “That depends on you. With the right kind of support and therapeutic intervention, if necessary, you will always be Dan Stagg.”

  “Some guys lose themselves.”

  “That’s what I’m talking about.”

  “But you don’t think I will.”

  “We have confidence.”

  “Based on what, exactly?”

  “As an example, your relationship with Luiz.”

  “I see. He’s been filling you in, has he?”

  “Yes.”

  “And what does he say?”

  “He has given you a glowing review.”

  “I see.” I was getting hard. Perhaps Mr. Preppy Agent would like to find out first hand, rather than relying on paid informants. “So the fact that I was having sneaky sex in a hospital bed is a good thing?”

  “In these circumstances, yes. It shows resilience.”

  “I recover quickly.”

  “So I gather.”

  His eyes flickered down to my crotch, and back up. CIA methods have certainly changed.

  “What happens next?” I was hoping he would say, “I have to strip you naked and suck your dick,” but that was a bit far-fetched even for the strange circumstances I’d been living in since my death.

  “You work on your recovery. When you’re ready, you’ll be briefed on your new identity. It’s important that you’re confident with the cover story. You’ll be issued with a new passport and a few other items and then you’ll get on a plane to London.”

  “Sounds straightforward.”

  “It’s anything but straightforward, Dan, and that’s why we’ve chosen you for the job. Think you can handle it?”

  “Sure. I go in, kick ass . .”

  Oliver held up a hand. “No. That’s exactly what you don’t do. You take your time. You get to know people, and you make them believe that you’re one of them. You’ll have to do things that might go against your morals . . .”

  “Morals? What morals?”

  “You’d be surprised. Even tough guys like you have a sense of right and wrong.”

  “We’ll see.”

  “You may have to go off radar, if we think things are getting dangerous. If we abort the mission, we may not be able to tell you. You could be abandoned.”

  “Oh, I’m used to that. I have an on-off relationship with Uncle Sam.”

  “That’s one of the reasons we picked you for the job. You can deal with rejection.”

  “I’ve had plenty of practice.”

  “Yes.” Was that a glint of compassion behind the shiny lenses of his glasses? If so, it didn’t last. “It’s a necessary qualification.”

  “Were there many other candidates for the job?”

  “Of course. We keep a lot of people in mind for these things.”

  “And they never even know it.”

  “Correct.”

  He stood up. “And now, you must be tired. I’ll leave you in peace. I’m glad to have met you, Dan, before you turn into someone else.”

  “Before I get killed for real?”

  “I don’t think you will, somehow. And when you come home, I’ll be glad to welcome you back.”

  We shook hands. “Sounds good. Will we have a party?”

  “Oh, I expect so.” He smiled. “Something along those lines.”

  “That’s worth staying alive for.”

  I watched his tight ass in his charcoal-gray pants as he walked out of the ward. How long before I spread those cheeks and push my cock in? How long before I see his self-control evaporate as I fuck him? They always tell you to visualize your goals. This was mine.

  And that is how I died. Not with a bang, but with a conversation and a handshake. It felt good being dead. Calmer than I’ve felt for a long time. At peace with myself. I couldn’t quite shake the suspicion that I was really, actually, physically dead, and that this strange dialogue with the USMC and the CIA was just a dream. The afterlife. I was hoping that heaven would be a nonstop orgy of hard cocks and tight asses, but it was more in keeping with my luck that it was a cross between an anxiety dream and an operational briefing. Luiz was at hand to stop me from going mad. I wondered how the CIA had recruited him? WANTED: qualified nurse and physical therapist, must be excellent cocksucker and good listener. Luiz certainly matched the job description.

  “How do you feel, Dan?” he asked the next day, while I was eating lunch and he was changing the bedsheets.

  “Oh, just dandy.”

  “Great.” He tucked in the sheet. “You are allowed to talk to me, you know.”

  “About what?”

  “All of it. I’ve been briefed.”

  “How much do you know?”

  “As much as you.”

  “You’re not much of a nurse then, are you? I died on your watch.”

  “You seem pretty much alive to me, Dan. At least, you were when you came in my mouth yesterday.”

  “Yeah—speaking of which, I wish you’d hurry up with that bed. I’ve got something I need to do.”

  “And what might that be?”

  “I need to fuck you.”

  “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”

  “Don’t you want me to?”

  “You’re not fit enough.”

  “Do I have to be signed off before I’m allowed to stick it in your ass?”

  He smiled. “I should at least discuss it with the doctors.”

  “Come on, Luiz. I want to show the guys at the CIA that I’m ready for this job. As I understand it, I’ll have to do quite a bit of fucking.”

  “That appears to be the case.”

  “So I need to demonstrate my abilities.”

  “Nobody doubts them.”

  “I do. I’ve lost confidence in myself.”

  “Have you indeed.”

  “And there’s only one way to find out if I am still up to the job.”

  “If you say so.”

  I grabbed his ass. “Maybe you should get that cute little agent to come and see for himself.”

  “You liked him, then?”

  “I wouldn’t go that far. But I want to fuck him.”

  “I’m not sure I see the distinction . . .”

  “Well, you,” I said, caressing his firm, round buttocks, “I like. You’re a nice guy, you’re kind, and I feel great when we have sex. I’d like to spend a lot of time with you, preferably with my dick inside you.”

  “You’re quite the romantic, aren’t you?”

  “Oliver, on the other hand, is a prick, and not in a good way. An annoying little pen-pusher who’s risen to power without ever having to get his hands dirty. He just happens to have a cute face and a tight little ass. I want to show him who’s boss. Get him sweating and drooling for my dick.”

  “They really chose the right guy for the job, didn’t they?”

  “I never said I was nice.”

  “The sooner they think you’re fit, the sooner you’ll be shipped out.”

  “I guess so.”

  “I’ll miss you.”

  “Is that part of your job description?”

  “No. Of course not.” He knew what was coming. “But I can’t help it.”

  “You don’t want to get involved with me, Luiz. I fuck people up.”

  “Do you? I’d like to find out.”

  “You mean, when I get back? If I get back?”

  “Maybe.”

  I pulled him towards me, and stroked his cock. “You’d wait for me?”

  “Would it be worth my while?”

  “It might be.”

  “And what about the others?”

  “What others?”

>   “The men you left behind.”

  “Oh, they’ll cope with their grief, I expect.” I was thinking of Jody. “They’ll find someone to fill the gap. Guys like me are a dime a dozen.”

  “That’s bullshit.” He leaned down, and kissed me on the lips. “You just don’t know how to let yourself be loved.”

  “Is that what the briefing documents told you?”

  “You’re a cynic.” He kissed me on the side of the face, the jawline. “You’ve been in the military for too long. You’re suffering from PTSD.”

  “Go on.”

  He kissed my neck, cradled the back of my head. “You need looking after.”

  “By you.”

  “I’m pretty good at it.”

  “What about when I’m not in the hospital anymore? When I’m just a miserable old bastard who needs to get his balls emptied twice a day?”

  “Shut up and fuck me, Dan.”

  “Without permission from your commanding officer?”

  “Jesus. Do I have to put the condom on you myself?”

  “Actually, yes. That’s exactly what you have to do. You have to do everything.”

  “I see.” He smoothed down the freshly made bed. “Let’s get started, then.”

  “How are we going to do it?”

  “You’ll find out.”

  Luiz knelt in front of me, and unbuttoned my pants. I was already half hard, and by the time he’d pulled them down around my knees my dick was sticking up, ready for active service. He grabbed the bottom of my shirt and pulled it up over my head and arms. I was naked.

  “Can you stand?”

  “I think so.” I pushed myself out of the chair. I’d done enough physical therapy by now to stand unaided. “There you go.”

  Luiz was still on his knees.

  “Steady now. Don’t make me cum. That’s going somewhere else.”

  He stood up, stripped off his nurse’s uniform in less than five seconds—it could have been designed for rapid removal—and procured a condom from one of the pockets. Obviously he was prepared for this. He rolled it on me with the same precision he brought to making a bed. Lube was pumped from a little dispenser. The quality of nursing care in the Navy Med really was excellent.

  “Ready?”