Disclaimer: despite the punny title, this story is NOT based on any comic book title, character or property. It is an original piece of fiction and any resemblance to people, places or events is unintentional.
This is a reality similar to our own; a universe of infinitive possibilities, of extraordinary powers and incredible circumstances. The SEX Men is a group of elite agents... and also amateurs. Together they must use their abilities against a powerful enemy.
The SEX Men Vol. 1 : Issue. 6 An Affair to Re-Member
BEST LAID PLANS
Angelo always knew it wasn't going to work.
He didn't "know the future" per se, he couldn't see every possible outcome but he could receive information about disastrous outcomes. Chronalcognition essentially allowed him to remember things from the future and he had a canny sense for planning accordingly. Knowing what would happen opened avenues for correction to minimise failure and correct mistakes.
Angelo always knew this plan wasn't going to work but certain failures were always a part of his plan. For example, he knew Matt's team would not find Cyrus in the brig because Cyrus wasn't in the brig. He knew Raphael was out of reach for now. Angelo tried to get a sense of other details but since committing to the rescue attempt, the effect of their intentions was shrouded in a fog at the edge of his ability to see.
"I need the both of you to do something," Angelo said to Jeffrey and Hugh.
They made their way through the same corridors Jay had travelled an hour ago.
"What do you need us to do?" Hugh asked.
Angelo stopped at an intersection and pointed down the way to where a naked guard was standing beside a fully clothed guard.
"You'll find Cyrus in there," Angelo said. "Hugh, translocate Cyrus, yourself and Jeffrey back to the plane and wait."
"What do you mean, Cyrus is here? Matt's team is looking for him in the brig," Jeffrey challenged.
"Matt will forgive me for holding certain things back," Angelo answered. "He's where he needs to be."
"What about Raphael?" Hugh asked. "Our objective was supposed to be to locate Raphael."
"He's not here, is he?" Jeffrey said darkly.
"No. I don't know where Raphael is. I never did," Angelo confessed. "I do know where Cyrus is though and once you all go back to the plane; I'll know where the three of you are."
"What about Jay?" Jeffrey asked in case their leader had forgotten him.
"Matt will find Jay," Angelo said.
"You knew we would not find Jay or Raphael?" Hugh asked.
"I did," Angelo answered.
"And you knew Matt would relocate Jay?" Hugh asked.
"Yes, I did," Angelo said – Hugh could be irritatingly tenacious.
"The mission objectives appear to have been poorly assigned," Hugh criticised.
Angelo didn't have the time to explain why the objectives had been allocated the way they had – that Matt's desperation to find Cyrus would have made a different assignment fail. Angelo's knowledge of the future was like a choose your own adventure game – Angelo knew the endings and was trying to avoid the worst of them. Too many choices led to undesirable conclusions and, ironically, undesirable choices led to the best ending.
"Milo did a good job, you shouldn't have too much trouble with the guards," Angelo replied dismissively. "Once you have Cyrus, inform team one and get them to return to the plane."
"And where are you going Angelo? Or is that a secret?" Jeffrey asked tersely.
"I'm going to go talk to Jethro," Angelo replied. "His office is right here."
Jeffrey and Hugh reluctantly left Angelo to meet Mr Renton-Mass himself. They argued that they were supposed to be a team while Angelo argued that teams had leaders, he was the leader and they should do as they were told.
Jeffrey and Hugh approached the two guards in the corridor. They were both soldiers but one of them was dressed and the other was covering his genitals and looking mortified. The naked young man was handsome – not remarkable, just handsome. He was young enough to enjoy an easily maintained physique that benefited from the training incumbent with the Risico Militia.
The young man shaved his chest and abdomen and trimmed his pubes but his pits contained a medium tuft of dark hair. His legs were neither shaved smooth not particularly hairy – short dark hairs peppered his legs and his inner thighs were wrapped with a fine layer too.
"Hello soldier," Jeffrey said.
"I'm sorry sir, this area is restricted," the clothed guard said.
"Maybe if he was restricted we could see what he was packing? Did I say restricted? I meant restrained," Jeffrey joked.
"You'll have to move along, sir," the guard replied politely.
Hugh reflected that Jeffrey had only left Mr Renton-Mass's employ a few weeks ago but the soldier must have been told he was a traitor. As for him, Hugh had never been employed by the villain at all. Yet the soldiers had called Jeffrey sir and barely reacted to Hugh's unauthorised presence. Therefore, Milo's memory graft must have worked.
"Who are you anyway?" the young and naked guard asked.
He shook his head, muddled and trying to clear the fog. Milo's memory manipulation was being tested as their presence extended beyond a superficial encounter. Luckily they didn't need Milo. Jeffrey's influence was quite enough.
"I'm Major Jeffrey Yates and this is Private Hugh..." Jeffrey started to say, then dropped his voice to a whisper. "What's your name again?"
"Hugh Hanes. Hello," Hugh said.
"Right. This is Private Hanes," Jeffrey insisted.
The words themselves were enough to persuade the two guards to drop their guard further.
"Why are your naked?" Hugh asked.
"Punishment, sir," the young man replied.
"Timmy at it again?" Jeffrey asked.
"Sir, yes sir," the man replied.
"You have a very pleasing facial symmetry," Hugh told him.
The naked guard looked confused. But regular confused, not the breakdown of memory or mind control confused.
"Thanks?" the young man replied.
"Anyway, soldier. We're just going to nip in here for a moment," Jeffrey said.
"Sorry, sir. We were given specific instructions not to let anyone in," the clothed man said.
"Especially if they identified themselves as Jeffrey," the nude guard added.
Both took a step away from Jeffrey and Hugh and brought their rifles into their hands. Unfortunately for the naked guard, that meant his penis was now exposed.
"Whoa, lads. Take it easy," Jeffrey said.
"Please do not shoot, we're nice," Hugh said.
"Did you really just say, don't shoot we're nice?" Jeffrey asked incredulously.
"I am having trouble deciding if your question was rhetorical or not," Hugh replied.
"For fucksake, Hugh. Yea, it was rhetorical," Jeffrey told Hugh. "Men, do not soot us."
Jeffrey's command hit the two guards but their weapons barely wavered.
"Let us go inside the room and..." Jeffrey started to say.
Grips on the guns tightened and were pointed more threateningly.
"Sorry, sir. We were given specific instructions not to let anyone in," the clothed man said.
"Especially if they identified themselves as Jeffrey," the nude guard added.
"They said that last time," Hugh told Jeffrey. "You said that last time," Hugh told the pair of guards.
"Shh," Jeffrey warned Hugh. "Timmy must have programmed certain instructions and triggers."
Jeffrey looked at the men's fingers on literal triggers and regretted his choice of words.
"Can you give them other instructions?" Hugh asked.
"Hey, we still have guns here!" the nude guard said.
"I am aware. Also, I can now see your penis. It is very small," Hugh commented.
The clothed guard laughed at his friend while the naked guard blushed at the comment about his flaccid, shrunken dick. Hugh provided a distraction while Jeffrey thought. He couldn't remove or overwrite Timmy's command but he could make it impossible for them to follow.
"Get naked, soldier," Cyrus told the clothed guard.
The guard found himself stripping, pulling off his boots and socks, his trousers and everything else. One by one the items of clothing were tossed on the floor in a casual and disorganised fling, the smell of his musky body odour stirring in the confined corridor. The naked guard was still covering them with his weapon and Jeffrey knew he would shoot if he had to. The other guard continued to strip in a way that was totally unceremonious and once he was done, there was a pile of clothes at their feet and he was still armed. The soldier's gun raised again – pointing at them in warning.
The newly naked guard was bulkier and his chest was not smooth. He had a nice pair of pecs and his balls were big. His flaccid penis was thick and long – five inches compared to the other naked guard whose dick was barely two inches.
"Kiss each other," Jeffrey said.
"Do we have time for this?" Hugh asked.
"Shh," Jeffrey replied.
The two nude soldiers kept their weapons aimed at Jeffrey and Hugh but turned their faces to each other to kiss. The kiss, with non-verbal impetus from Jeffrey became prolonged and passionate.
"Are either of you lads gay?" Jeffrey asked.
"I'm bisexual," the well-hung soldier said.
"No," replied the other.
"Great. Make yourself hard," Jeffrey told the straight man.
His small penis thickened and got longer but was only four inches when hard.
"Now kneel down and suck your friend's dick," Jeffrey said.
He felt a stab of guilt – making a straight man do gay stuff was the kind of thing Timmy did. However, sexual distraction was likely to interfere with the instructions Timmy left without actually contravening them.
The straight soldier lowered his gun as he dropped to his knees, faced his friend and stroked his friends prickly legs. The bisexual man was already more or less hard and his naked colleague opened his mouth and began an amateur blowjob.
"Put your hands on his head," Jeffrey said.
Unable to hold the cocksucker's head and aim his weapons at the interlopers, the soldier was compelled to hold his friend's head. The blowjob continued with licking and slurping, his tongue swirling and lips tightening.
For an amateur, he was a pretty good cocksucker. For a straight guy who had never done it before? He had either watched a lot of porn and leaned from it or learned from having his own sucked.
"Keep going. Enjoy it," Jeffrey told them.
Jeffrey stooped to root around for the key card that would unlock to Cyrus's door. He found it in the soldier's pile of clothes. Unlocking the door, the two soldiers felt compelled to stop them as they had been ordered by Timmy but the sexual instructions from Jeffrey seemed unbreakable. The orders were conflicting but the sexual motivations were reinforced by the sensation of getting a blow. Even the straight lad was enjoying it in a weird way. He'd never tasted dick before but he'd tasted his own cum once. His friend's cum was nicer.
"Keep going. Make it last," Jeffrey said as he unlocked the door.
Jeffrey saw Cyrus – who was naked – and ran towards his lover. He'd only seen Cyrus as Cyrus a few times because they had met while Cyrus was pretending to be a man named Rider Topsman but he knew Cyrus's character. He cared about Cyrus as a person, whoever he looked like.
"Are you ok?" Jeffrey asked Cyrus.
"Yes. I'm ok. Thanks for saving me," Cyrus said.
"I had a lot of help. Max is here. We'd never have got here without him," Jeffrey said.
Cyrus appreciated that Max had helped get him back.
"What's with those two?" Cyrus asked as he gestured towards the naked guards.
Jeffrey looked back at the naked men – both hard and one of them getting his cock sucked.
"Don't mind them," Jeffrey said airily.
"And who are you?" Cyrus asked Hugh.
"I am Hugh Hanes," he replied.
"Of course you are," Cyrus answered – he knew about Hugh and all the other new kids but had never actually met them.
"Are you going to get us out of here?" Cyrus asked.
"Can we stay to watch..." Hugh gestured to the blow jobbing guards.
"Best not," Jeffrey said. "Not sure what'll happen when he cums and they start following Timmy's orders again."
"Ok. I will return us to the plane," Hugh said.
Cyrus noticed that Hugh had wanted to see the blowjob but had not shown excitement about it in a recognisable way. Similarly he was unperturbed when told he couldn't stay to watch. He was an interesting young man.
One moment they were standing in Cyrus's secured guest quarters and the next they vanished as Hugh took them back to the NX-01 located in the hanger to wait for the others.
MEMORIES LIGHT THE CORNERS OF MY MINDLESSNESS
While Jeffrey and Hugh were saving Cyrus, and Angelo went to meet Jethro, and Max was doing... whatever it was he was up to... team one were searching the building that housed the soldiers and incarcerated prisoners. Maybe the soldiers were prisoners too in a way? Matt had considered this – that the Risico Militia was employed by Jethro Renton-Mass was not in question but had Timmy influenced their minds too? Manipulated them until they had no choice but to obey even the most deplorable of orders?
Matt, Milo and Steve didn't know Jay had been captured and they didn't know Cyrus wasn't in the brig. They didn't know there was nothing to find in the brig but what kind of story would it be if everything went to plan? However, Milo was happy enough to find the men's locker room.
Matt, Steve and Milo stood in the doorway as a steamy room that smelled of body odour, deodorant and water filled the air. Men in various stages of undress were milling about. Some were getting into gym clothes and others out. Some were wearing towels and a few were naked.
It occurred to Matt that there was no sense of urgency despite the unexpected arrival of their plane. He hoped it meant that the disabling of the control tower by Max and Hugh had been remarkably effective and that Milo's influence had filtered out the raising of a high alert.
Matt wasn't sure. His instinct as a former soldier and an intelligence agent told him something was wrong. Even with Milo using his memory talents to make their presence seem acceptable, there was something wrong here.
Milo's eyes bulged and his mouth unsubtly gaped as a young man in his early twenties stood a few metres away. He was totally naked and full frontally flashing the boy as he rubbed his groin with a towel without actually covering his genitals. He smiled and offered Milo a wink.
"Milo, anyone here got a high-level access card?" Matt whispered hastily.
Milo reluctantly pulled his attention away from the hot naked hunk. He scanned the memories in the room. Now that Max had put the phrase mind reading in his head, Milo felt differently about his powers. Milo could sense the memories of the minds he touched and dig deeper into them if he saw something he liked. He could play or re-play or manipulate memory and even manufacture memories.
After a few seconds, Milo found one that might be useful and without checking with Matt, pressed a new memory into the man's head.
"Sir? You reported my Level Five access card was to be returned to you for routine auditing?" a young man asked as he crossed the room towards the door.
He was in his late thirties – Matt's age – and Asian. His chest was smooth and the white towel around his toned abdomen emphasised his milky brown skin.
"Yes, thank you," Matt replied as he took the access card.
"No problem, sir. You can return it to my room later? If you want?" the soldier added.
Matt actually blushed and he wondered if the man was just flirtatious or if Milo had added something to his memory to make him behave that way.
"You want to close the fucking door?" asked a less flirtatious soldier.
Matt, Steve and Milo had been occupying the threshold and perving on the men's locker room for half a minute and some of them apparently preferred to not be naked with the door to the corridor open.
Matt backed out of the room, with Steve and Milo following them.
"If we encounter any particularly belligerent soldiers, do you think you could pacify them?" Matt asked Steve.
"I wouldn't even know how to do that," Steve admitted.
He had been able to see emotions for years and had told Hugh about them six months ago. Matt had already known about his powers by then and recruited him around the same time. Matt had been encouraging Steve to develop his emotive powers – to not just see emotions as colours but the feel them too?
Matt had suggested a few times now that there was no reason why Steve shouldn't be able to project emotions onto people. Matt wasn't asking Steve to make someone feel fear or terror or to make them run away. Suggesting he pacify soldiers to make them leave them alone was a more benign and gentle approach that suited Steve's character better but he still didn't know how to do it.
"It's easy," Milo said.
Milo of all people was giving advice?
"You have a gift, Steve. It's as natural and relaxed as breathing," Milo said. "You don't even need to think."
You don't even need to think – that sounded more like Milo.
"You have a brilliant and powerful ability, Milo," Steve said.
Steve could see a halo of serenity and calm over Milo's head. Conversely, Matt's head, neck and shoulders prickled with tension and thought and an anxiety not only about his mission but also for his husband. Steve could see all that but he didn't know how to communicate emotion other than verbally.
They continued up the corridor and found their way into another wing of the building, this one with secure doors that opened with a swipe of the access card and that they propped open in case the needed to make a hasty escape.
"Not all abilities come easily, Steve. Milo makes his seem effortless," Matt noted. "But when I make it cloudy or rain, it takes concentration." Matt told Steve. "You'll find your own way."
"I want to help, Matt. Really I do," Steve said. "I don't even know what I'm doing here, I feel useless."
"Everyone on this team has a part to play, Steve," Matt said gently.
"Ok," Steve answered. "Eh, Matt? Where's Milo?"
"What?" Matt looked around but Milo was gone. "For fucksake!"
"You think he wandered off?" Steve asked – seeing the annoyance on Matt's face and in the cloud around his head.
"I think Milo could get distracted by a squirrel," Matt complained.
"Do we go look for him?" Steve asked.
"The brig is right here," Matt said. "Let's get Cyrus first and then find Milo."
Steve saw a pulse of conflicting emotions when Matt said his Cyrus's name.
"Are you going to be ok? Seeing your husband again?" Steve asked carefully.
"We're separated," Matt replied.
Milo had wandered off but not because of a squirrel.
He had returned to the locker room because that was where all the hot men were. How was he supposed to think straight with so many hot men around? Milo could only think gay with so many hot men in his sights.
He also returned to the locker room because he had seen some perfectly filthy memories in the heads of the men there while he was rooting around for the access card.
Milo had expended mental effort pressing memories throughout the base so that everyone in the SEX Men would be recognised and their presence not questioned. Now Milo added a new layer to the thoughts of the men in the locker room. It was easy too because the new layer was simply an extension of something that was already there.
"Hello cadet," said the soldier who had winked even before the memory upgrade.
"Hey," Milo replied.
"Oh, it's initiation time!" said someone else.
Milo was surrounded by half a dozen men who lifted him up and carried him, fully clothed, into the showers. Two of them were topless and wearing short shorts but the other four were dressed only in towels. The showers turned on and were pleasantly warm but wet. Obviously.
Milo's clothes were soaked in a matter of moments as the men continued to hold him by his arms and legs under the flowing water. Then Milo felt his boots being pulled off and his belt being undone, his combat vest was unzipped and removed and the tight indigo top too. His trousers were pulled down and off, leaving little Milo in just his briefs.
The soldiers laughed at Milo when they saw the tiny white briefs. The sexy officer and the Asian officer who had given Matt his key card were grinning but not mocking the boy. Milo's briefs turned transparent under the water, clinging to his little butt cheeks and the shape and size of his penis showed through at the front. Milo had hardly any pubes – even for a fifteen-year-old he was something of a smoothie.
"I'm Magnus. This is Captain Liu," the hunky soldier said.
"I'm off duty Lieutenant, call me Tian," the hot Asian soldier responded.
"You're too cute," Magnus said to Milo as he turned off the water.
Magnus and Tian were both wet too, the towels slipping lower on their hips due to the water.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be," Milo replied.
Magnus and Tian and the others who had hung around to spectate chuckled. They leered at him a jovial and laddish way which fitted their existing memories of hazing cadets – the only thing Milo had implanted was a memory of him being a cadet. Milo couldn't control people's mind but the adjustment to their memories nudged their behaviours slightly. Milo had been delighted to realise the men liked to initiate or haze cadets with nudity and degradation.
"Take your underwear off," Tian ordered.
"These? But... I'm wearing them," Milo said innocently.
"Not for long you're not," one of the other men said.
There was chorus of laughter and Milo blushed. He hadn't quite anticipated so many men being involved – ten or a dozen so far were watching the skinny twinky boy. Milo enjoyed sex and men though the only man he'd actually had sex with was his brother Jay.
Milo had seen no memories of intercourse during the initiation's he had discovered in the minds of the men in the locker room, however: the idea of Magnus or Tian fucking him was appealing. Milo would spin that memory for himself another time. In the meantime, he hooked his hands into his sopping wet undies and pushed them down his skinny thighs.
Exposing his flaccid penis was met with pointing and ridicule even though he was no smaller than the average flaccid male.
"Put them in your mouth," Tian said.
"Huh?" Milo asked. "Why?"
"Because you're a cadet, I'm the Captain, and this is your initiation," Tian said.
Wow, Milo hadn't seen this coming – Tian was kinda kinky. Milo stuffed his used, sopping wet undies into his mouth. With some of the fabric still protruding from his face, he looked cute but pathetic. Especially with his bare, hairless, boyish chest and short pubes above a small, limp lump of penis.
"Ok lads, you know what to do," Magnus said.
Magnus, Tia and nine other men stepped forward. There were others lingering around to watch and heckle but they seemed to think there was enough men already involved in the cadet's hazing. Milo watched as penises little and medium were stroked until they were medium or big.
Milo couldn't have fantasised a better scenario... well, actually... he could. But the reality was even more exciting. To be in the middle of a circle jerk and then to feel cum rain down on him was magnificent. Milo wondered if he was a little freak to want to be a cumdump? Or was he just a horny fifteen-year-old?
The men standing around Milo looked down at the boy on the floor – he was a cute and innocent looking cadet. Tian thought Milo would washout and Magnus was trying to decide if he shaved and decided probably not.
The men around Milo continued to masturbate while Milo himself felt his dick stiffen without getting fully hard. The men were a variety of races; some of them were average and others tall; some shaved their bodies but the others were just naturally not-hairy; the cocks varied from five inches up to seven inches. Milo found himself thinking that Jay had a seven-and-a-half-inch cock but thinking about his brothers cock when he had eleven others to choose from was weird. Milo's own erection was six inches long but currently the plump, semi-hard doodle was only four inches in length.
The first man came on Milo with a cheer from the crowd and grunt from the grunt himself. Another three came in quick succession. The jizz splashed over Milo's chest and back, trickling down to the small of his skinny back or into his groin where his closed thighs kept his cock and balls propped up.
The next three men to cum could have been synchronised cummers. If that was a thing. The Olympics should look into it, Milo thought. Cum was a kind of swimmer after all?
Milo moaned through his underwear gag.
The next man stepped forward, beating his meat, and jizzed right in Milo's eye. Milo squeezed his eye shut as the next blob landed on his cheek and then the corner of his mouth. A cheer indicated the audience of soldiers had enjoyed that particular moment.
The next guy did the same, stepping forward and jerking but Milo didn't see him because he was behind Milo and shot into the boy's hair like he was adding conditioner. The men cheered again and gave disgusted groans at the mess of poor Milo.
"We're nearly done, cadet," Tian said.
"Captain? Just what the hell is going on here?"
The soldiers turned and paled when they saw Timmy.
Milo didn't know who the newcomer was but he gave the teenager a wicked grin.
"You must be Milo? I don't think we've met?" Timmy said.
Timmy had to admit the twinky boy with underwear in his mouth was just lovely. Timmy turned to someone beside him – someone who was hidden behind the biggest and broadest man Milo had ever seen. Fuck, the guy was built like a house!
"Why don't you introduce us?" Timmy said.
From behind the tall, broad, muscular hunk of a man, Jay emerged. He was naked and embarrassed.
"Milo... this is Timmy," Jay said.
Milo squeaked.
"Don't let me interrupt whatever is going on here," Timmy said.
"What is going on here?" Jay asked. "He's my brother, you know. You better not hurt him."
Jay turning big brotherly was very touching if undersold by the fact he was naked and outnumbered.
"Hazing the new cadet," Magnus replied.
"Cadet?" Jay asked bewilderedly.
"We didn't interrupt our cordial little chat for nothing, you know," Timmy told him.
After compelling Jay and Cyrus to have sex, Timmy had been informed of the situation with the rest of Angelo's team arriving. He had been going to find out more about Jay's exciting powers when he had been brought another message.
"I was told they were hazing the new kid in the locker room and thought it was odd," Timmy said.
"Because you usually organise the hazing?" Captain Liu asked.
"No, because we don't have any new cadets," Timmy said. "How did you do it?"
This last was directed to Milo and Milo answered completely and honestly without even thinking which could have been the result of mind control by Timmy or just Milo being Milo. Milo spat out his wet pants and explained.
"I saw the really hot men in here and got distracted... very distracted... so I came back and made them think I was the new recruit and it was time for my initiation," Milo blurted out.
Timmy had been told about what everyone on the idiotic SEX Men team were capable of but he had to admit, Milo's use of his power was ingenious and intriguing. And he thought Milo was just a little idiot.
"So you discovered our little hazing ritual and made them think you were a cadet so they would all jerk off and cum all over you?" Timmy asked.
"Yea?" Milo said modestly.
"You and I could get along just fine," Timmy commented.
"Wait until you get to know him," Jay muttered.
"Don't let me interrupt. I believe you two weren't done with cumdump here," Timmy said to Tian and Magnus.
The two soldiers resumed their masturbation. Under the pressure of authoritarian observation, the two men nervously took time to reach the edge of climax again but once they were there Timmy saw fit to intervene again.
"You two can stop now. Jay, go and jerk them off," Timmy ordered.
Jay had no choice but to grip the rock-hard cocks of the two hot soldiers. He stood in the middle, stroking Magnus's throbbing boner with his right hand and Tian's aching erection with his other.
"Aim for Milo's face," Timmy demanded.
Timmy came closer to watch the moment that Milo's face was covered with gunge.
"Open your mouth, Milo," Timmy said.
Milo opened his mouth and the two men came all over his face and into the open orifice. Four or five hot blasts of creamy sludge shot over Milo's pretty face and the teenager felt the spunk cover his mouth and coating his tongue before he swallowed it.
"That was great," Timmy laughed, a laugh that stopped with ominous suddenness. "Where is the of your team, Milo?"
Timmy's question was an order to respond but the answer was disappointing.
"I dunno," Milo replied. "I've been in here."
"Let's go find them," Timmy said – disappointed that the kid was so useless.
"Team two here, we have Cyrus," Jeffrey.
The voice came through Milo's earpiece – he'd forgotten he even had it.
"This is team one. Is he ok?" asked Matt.
Milo listened, trying not to give anything away. Would Timmy know Milo was hearing his friends? Surely not, he was a mind controller not a mind reader.
"Cyrus is physically unharmed," Hugh reported.
"Angelo says to come back to the plane," Jeffrey said.
"And where is Angelo?" Matt asked.
"Maybe you should just come back," Jeffrey said diplomatically.
Timmy was momentarily distracted by the men around the locker room – he was admonishing them for allowing unauthorised people to wander around the base. It was as the men of the Risico Militia responded that Timmy realised his men hadn't known the SEX Men were unauthorised. Timmy was almost impressed by the mental manipulation exercised by Milo and if anyone knew about mental manipulation it was Timmy.
Jay stood protectively close to Milo. The two naked brothers didn't cover up their penises – showing locker room comfort that didn't quite fit with the fact they were prisoners of their enemy. Milo was too busy looking at Timmy nonchalantly (or as nonchalantly as Milo was capable of) to notice one of his guards turn away from the others, heading towards the back of the locker room.
"Angelo is talking to Jethro Renton-Mass," Hugh said – oblivious to subtlety.
"Fuck!" Matt said.
"There is another little thing," Max said.
"Max? Where have you been?" Matt asked.
"Around. At the moment I'm in the locker room with Jay, Milo and Timmy," Max said.
Milo's eyes bulged and his head spun around to realise the guard at the back of the room in the armour and the helmet and the goggles was Max. Did Jay know? Probably not since Jay couldn't carry an ear piece because of his invisibility.
"You'll go back to the plane like Angelo said," Max replied. "I will get the boys out."
"Max..." Matt started to say.
"I warned you against bringing novices on this mission. You put them in danger, Matt," Max criticised. "I need you to leave and trust me to get them out."
There was an ugly silence.
"That was not your mission," Matt said eventually.
"It is now. Your mission was to get your husband back," Max replied.
"Milo!" Timmy shouted.
"What?" Milo snapped.
"Let's go!" Timmy said.
"Go? We're going? Am I going home?" Milo asked hopefully.
"Nice try," Timmy responded.
Milo stood up and tried not to look at the guard he now knew to be Max.
"Was worth a fucking shot," Milo said to Jay.
"Are you ok?" Jay asked his little brother.
"I am now," Milo replied and hugged his big brother.
Jay tried not to grimace as he felt cum transfer from his naked brother to him.
"You two are too cute," Timmy said. "I'm going to have so much fun."
CHAOS ITSELF
Angelo stood outside for a moment before turning the handle and walking into a medium sized office. There was an area to sit and rest and a desk at which to work, the room had bookcases lining most of the walls.
"Hello Jethro," Angelo said.
Angelo had not actually spoken to Jethro Renton-Mass for a very long time. The man had hardly changed – still bald, lean and serious looking. Jethro looked up, his eyebrows lifting with surprise.
"You weren't expecting me?" Angelo said.
"No, when you flew a plane onto my base, I was caught totally off guard," Jethro replied sarcastically. "Disabling the air traffic control centre wasn't necessary you know."
"I couldn't be sure you wouldn't shoot us down," Angelo replied.
"In what world would I want to kill you and your friends?" Jethro asked insincerely.
"In quite a few worlds actually," Angelo countered.
"Good one," Jethro chuckled.
He leaned back in his chair and studied the young man. Angelo was 297 years old but he was still a young man compared to Jethro's 523 years.
"I am surprised you're here yourself, Angelo. Like a general, you were always one to lead from behind the lines," Jethro said in a tone that dripped with disdain. "Easier to sacrifice other people's lives than your own."
"No offense taken," Angelo replied.
"Every offence meant," Jethro assured him.
"You were surprised to see me but expecting my team," Angelo reasoned. "You wanted us to come?"
"I thought you might call first. I'd have put the kettle on," Jethro responded.
"Jethro, where is Raphael?" Angelo asked.
"Raphael," Jethro repeated acidly. "I would have called him..."
Jethro hadn't got to name his son, hadn't even known about him. The Choir made sure of it. Angelo had helped to keep his son hidden from him. Jethro Renton-Mass nursed great resentment for the younger man in front of him.
"Where is he?" Angelo interrupted hotly.
Jethro chuckled darkly, sneering at Angelo.
"Did you really think it would be as easy as walking in here and take him back?" Jethro asked. "Do you know the best thing about knowing where my son is now, Angelo? Not! Telling! You!"
Angelo went quiet and seethed at his own foolhardiness. No, Angelo of all people had known the rescue would not be that easy. If anything, saving Raphael had always been a long shot. But something about Jethro's attitude unsettled Angelo. He was missing something.
"You wanted us to come, didn't you?" Angelo repeated. "But why? What do you want, Jethro?"
"You've always fancied yourself as a detective, why do you think?" Jethro Renton-Mass rebutted.
"I know you're trying to affect the xenofield. Maybe you think my team can stop you?" Angelo suggested.
"Why would you want to do that?" Jethro asked.
"Why would we want to stop Jethro Renton-Mass for deciding the next course of human evolution?" Angelo said furiously. "Because it's insane and wrong."
"I think it would be marvellous," Jethro countered.
"We agreed once, eighty years ago, that the whole idea of a master race was nonsense. And now you're trying to create a whole race of people with abilities?" Angelo asked.
"I'm not trying to create a master race," Jethro replied with great offense. "I don't believe in such a thing but there are those who do. Pathetic people who think skin colour makes one superior, or gender, sexuality, eye and hair colour..."
"If it's not about you lording it over with a race of superpowered people, what is it about?" Angelo demanded.
"It's about an end to segregation. Angels and nu-men on one side and the human race on the other," Jethro replied as he finally got to his feet and walked around his desk to stand in front of it. "Except we are human, Angelo. We're all human. Abilities, gifts, powers... they simply describe talents that most other people do not have. By that definition, Olympic athletes have powers!"
Angelo shook his head and snorted.
"Is something funny?" Jethro asked sourly.
"You forget how long I've known you, Jethro." Angelo answered. "You expect me to believe this is about altruism? About ending segregation? C'mon mate, I'm not an idiot!"
Jethro's expression disagreed.
"Your actions have always been about the interests of one person. Yourself," Angelo challenged. "Power, influence, money, resources. You've always liked having things. You've always enjoyed having the King's ear. And nowadays you'll buy and sell your influence to the most deranged political tyrant you can find."
"You really think so little of me?" Jethro asked.
"Most of the time, yea," Angelo said.
"And why would I enjoy political discord so much, do you think?" Jethro asked innocently.
It was true but it was also difficult. Being ancient and aging only a year to every fourteen or fifteen years for a regular man made it impossible to stay in one place for decades. He had left Albion in the 1960's and kicked the hornet's nest to take down the Berlin Walls 1980's. He'd helped the Federated America Republic loss it's fucking mind for nearly twenty years as it was led by that brainless narcissist Horace Hump. Then, more recently, he had come home. His influence had never left, he always had an iron in the fire, but now he was a political advisor to the government and enjoyed almost unlimited influence and little oversight.
"Chaos," Angelo said after a few moments. "You know, most people don't like change but you're not like most people. You thrive on the chaos that change creates because it's easier to hide in the melee."
"You're a lot cleverer than the last time we spoke, Angelo. You're right, that chaos helps to hide actions even those in plain sight," Jethro agreed. "Such as the overabundance of people with invisibility or sexual powers. Empowered people know about persecution so they hide what they can do but one day they will want to be accepted and they'll come looking... for people like me."
"You must have thought you'd won the jackpot when you realised how the xenofield could be manipulated to make more nu-men, I'm guessing you plan to locate and sell people with abilities?" Angelo took a stab in the dark.
Jethro's eyes narrowed – so it was something like that. Jethro was never a man to have one idea, one plan – it was probably lots of plans wound together.
"Teams like yours have been very useful," Jethro replied slowly. "Max's generation of nu-men and then Jay and Milo's generation wouldn't have existed without teams like the SEX Men. Nu-men enhance the field that we create to create people like the. Perfect symbiosis. As the nu-men's power ascends, so will we."
"Oh not this again," Angelo said. "You've always been obsessed with the Choir. Apotheosis. It's impossible, Jethro."
Apotheosis was a children's story – the idea that Angels could ascend to a higher plane of existence.
"You may have gotten your wings but you're still a second-class angel," Jethro spat at Angelo.
Angelo didn't take the insult to heart.
"I'll climb the ranks, the Choir can't stop me," Jethro insisted. "But I had a little theory. That the genomorphic xenofield could be influenced not only by Angels as a lynchpin and nu-men helping to support it... but also by a sudden release of energy. So, to answer your question... That's why I brought you here."
"A sudden release of..." Angelo started to repeat and realised his mistake.
It was a mistake from the very beginning, he'd known that and he'd still miscalculated when he adjusted the plans.
"You took my son. So I am going to kill you, Angelo," Jethro said. "And I'm going to kill your entire team. Just to see what happens when all that power is extinguished at once. Where will it all go, I wonder?"
Angelo was frozen to the spot for a moment. He was afraid.
"And also revenge, obviously," Jethro added flippantly.
"Hugh, can you hear me? I'm in Jethro's office, come and get me," Angelo said. "Now!"
Jethro straightened up and took a step forward but Hugh appeared on the other side of the office.
"Matt, we need to go," Angelo added.
Hugh vanished from where he was and reappeared next to Angelo. Jethro knew there was nothing to do to stop their escape from his office but then he didn't really want to stop them, did he? Jethro felt his blood boiling as he looked into the face of the man who had taken his son.
"They'll never forgive you, you know," Jethro told Angelo.
Hugh vanished himself and Angelo from the room before anyone could say another word.
"Fucker!" Jethro raged.
COME FLY WITH ME
Angelo and Hugh reappeared in the passenger compartment of NX-01. Angelo could hear the engines of the plane had already started up. He looked around and saw Matt sitting in the cockpit. Jeffrey and Steve were attending to Cyrus in the passenger compartment while Hugh mutely took a seat and put his belt on.
"Cyrus," Angelo acknowledged with a smile – it was good to see him.
"Angelo. Long time no see," Cyrus replied exhaustedly.
Angelo joined Matt in the cockpit.
"Where are Max, Jay and Milo?" Angelo asked.
Angelo had deliberately disabled his earpiece so no-one could listen in to his conversation with Jethro.
"Things didn't exactly go according to plan," Matt replied. "But I'm guessing you knew that? How was your talk with Mr Renton-Mass?"
Matt was clever enough to infer that Angelo had kept secrets and not told the team everything. He tried not to be angry about it because compartmentalising information was essential to a mission's success but Matt was not used to being out of the loop.
"I didn't know what was going to happen, Matt. Not all of it anyway," Angelo defended himself.
"We'll talk about it later," Matt said flatly as the plane moved forward and taxied towards the runway.
"What happened? Where are the others?" Angelo asked again.
"Well, you know your team found Cyrus. My team found nothing. Timmy caught Jay and then Milo," Matt said.
"Max?" Angelo asked – fearing the worst.
"He's ok. He told us to go and stayed behind for the boys," Matt answered as the plane gained speed.
Angelo looked relieved to hear Max was ok. Before today, Matt hadn't flown a plane for years but co-piloting while Max had flown to the Racetrack a few weeks ago had been an adequate refresher.
"Jethro may not let us leave, Matt," Angelo confided.
"Taking off now," Matt replied as the plane left the ground and rose into the air.
"Matt, I think I was wrong," Angelo said with quiet terror.
It was the fear in his voice that made Matt turn to look at his friend.
"What do you mean?" Matt asked.
"I didn't think he'd try to kill us, Matt. I've been frustrating his plans for decades. Even though we were breaking into his base and stealing from him... I really didn't think he'd wipe us out," Angelo said.
Angelo didn't understand why he hadn't seen it coming... except maybe he did? He had a sense of déjà vu that was punctuated by an alarm sounding in the cockpit.
"Fuck!" Matt said.
"Problem?" Jeffrey shouted from the back.
"No, no," Matt lied before dropping his voice so only Angelo could hear. "Jethro's fired missiles at us."
"He's fired missiles at us?!" Angelo responded.
"What?" said four voices from the passenger compartment
"Thanks man," Matt said sarcastically.
"When you say missiles?" Steve asked – appearing in the threshold between the passenger compartment and the cockpit.
"What will happen if they hit us?" Hugh enquired in the same tone he might have used to ask the weather.
"We'll explode," Cyrus said as he stood up.
"Steve, get back there," Matt snapped.
Steve could see Matt was scared but determined too.
"Be honest, are we going to escape?" Matt asked Angelo as Cyrus joined them.
"I don't know," Angelo replied.
Angelo left the co-pilot seat for Cyrus – Matt's husband (separated) moved stiffly, weak and tired after weeks as Jethro's houseguest and Timmy's plaything. Angelo joined Jeffrey, Steve and Hugh in the passenger compartment. Like Matt, Cyrus had served in the Armed Forces – in the Air Force. As a spy, he was familiar with all sorts of aircraft. Looking at the available display, there was very little time and although he was a more experienced pilot, it wouldn't make any difference.
"I'm pretty sure this plane has countermeasures," Cyrus said.
"You should be resting," Matt said.
"I'm ok," Cyrus said.
They hadn't really spoken since boarding the plane. Matt had been desperate to save his husband but when he saw the man again, he had suddenly felt evasive. Cyrus knew how Matt felt – they had hardly spoken for years, not since Michael had died, and suddenly...
The alarms intensified, becoming more urgent and the small plane suddenly lurched to the side. Matt didn't know if the plane was fast enough or manoeuvrable enough to avoid being hit – probably not. One thing was for sure, if either missile struck them, they would all be dead.
"Forty seconds to impact," Matt reported.
In the back, Hugh was rocking back and forth as the alarms and the voices ganged up on him and overloaded his ability to think. Steve knelt in front of him and put his hands comfortingly on Hugh's knees.
"Deploying decoy flare," Cyrus warned.
A very loud bang erupted from somewhere behind the plane, which buffeted in the aftermath of the sound. A decoy flare was designed to burn hotter than the engines of the craft that fired it and so heatseeking projectiles could be taken off course.
"Are we safe?" Jeffrey asked.
"One destroyed. Still one coming in," Matt said as he pushed the plane to its maximum speed.
"Flares are spent," Cyrus lamented. "Parachutes?"
"We'd never get all six of us organised and out. Three of them are novices. We won't escape the blast radius," Matt answered but Cyrus already knew.
"Bugger," Cyrus said.
"Any chance this thing has an IRCM?" Matt asked.
Infrared Countermeasures were designed to protect aircraft from infrared homing and to impair missile guidance systems.
"Absolutely not," Cyrus answered.
The private jet was a customised vanity aircraft; Ernest Sukerfeel, the man whom Max stolen it from, was not the kind of man who had really expected to be blown up but the countermeasures had been a part of a deal.
"Softkill? Radio frequency jammer?" Matt asked hopefully.
"No... but there's plenty of cup holders," Cyrus reported.
"Ten seconds," Matt said.
He looked at Cyrus and realised they had missed their chance to say all the things they needed to say. Cyrus felt it too – the stab of guilt that they were going to die without having forgiven each other or saying how much they still...
The missile hit the back of the plane and the tail instantly rented off, spinning wildly in a plume of smoke. The explosion tore through the passenger compartment, melting the cup holders and fracturing the windows, and then blew out through the cockpit. As the compartment collapsed, the wings dipped and ripped free before flying off as the plane disintegrated, filling the sky with fire and smoke.
There could be no survivors.
TO BE CONTNUED...
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My stories so far:
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/authors.html#jforrester
Complete series: School Exhibitionism, The Symposium, The Embarrassment of Riches, Do As You're Told and A Series of Embarrassing Events.
The SEX Men prequel series: Anthology.
Short stories: Aiden's Accidental Autoerotic Assignment, Jogging Joe's Jaunty Journey and Peter's Past Posing Pictures.