Avatar: Establishment, Book 2
Chapter 84

Copyright© 2005 by Dark Pen

Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 84 - A man becomes the Avatar of the Goddess of Sex. These books chronicle his adventures. <br>This is the continuation of Avatar: Establishment, Book 1. It picks up right where Book 1 left off.

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Ma/ft   ft/ft   Fa/ft   Mult   Consensual   Lesbian   BiSexual   Heterosexual   Science Fiction   BDSM   DomSub   MaleDom   FemaleDom   Rough   Humiliation   Torture   Group Sex   Orgy   Anal Sex   Fisting   Sex Toys   Lactation   Water Sports   Voyeurism  

Harrison sat in his study and thought after Mitchell left. He knew who Nikki Weston was because she was deployed to a sensitive area, and had ways of keeping tabs on her, at least while she was at work. Up to now, he hadn’t bothered to get all that personally involved. When she’d come in to the department he’d gone through her record as a matter of course -- couldn’t hurt to keep an eye out for new recruits. She’d struck him right away as being a little too much of a straight arrow to try and recruit. Eventually he might have a use for her, if she did something he could turn to his advantage, but nothing had come to his attention. He decided to refresh his memory.

Harrison turned on his computer and opened up some of the encrypted files he had on the thing. Harrison kept very few records on his computer concerning activities that were less than legal. He had some of his Cayman bank information, but that was heavily encrypted and contained the barest amount of information in it. It would take someone extremely skilled to get to the data and almost none of it could be used against him in court.

The notes that he had on his computer concerning the people under him were ambiguous, at least to someone who didn’t know what he was into, and again, would be difficult to use to prove he was involved in anything illegal.

Ah ... Weston. There it was. He frowned, as he read through what it said. He’d forgotten that she’d been the one that called attention to the Whitestone woman whose husband was now suing the department. Anger rose in him as he thought about that. Between Angelo Costa’s threats and the harassment suit, that fucker was becoming a serious issue. The suit was causing Harrison problems upstairs, and if it hadn’t been for Father Bob’s connections, it might have caused him real trouble. He’d backed off going after Whitestone officially, but had already decided that the man had caused him enough trouble. He wondered why the hell the Tankers hadn’t taken care of that issue yet. Useless fucks. Well, no matter. He had connections of his own.

Turning his attention to the issue at hand, he returned to his reading and saw that Weston was dating somebody named Scott Turcotte. The information about him indicated that he was a bit older than her and he was a martial arts master. Harrison snorted. Whatever. He hadn’t met one of those karate types yet that could dodge a bullet.

Still, there must be something about what had happened if Mitchell had taken the time to come to him. He decided to go into the station and access the records there.

Harrison closed the report on his desk. Mitchell had been right -- the incident was odd. Ron had had little to say in the report, but Harrison had to wonder why, once Ron was down, the men had attacked Weston. Hell, they could have pulled Ron’s gun and shot her with it, but they’d just left him alone once he’d been out of the fight.

But then, they hadn’t tried to kill Weston either, from the sound of it. He wondered how much he could trust Ron’s report. The man had been dazed, and he knew from experience that Ron didn’t like to think of himself as weak. Having a woman defend them wasn’t something he’d be happy about. Nikki of course, had downplayed the fight, and so had Ron, but he had mentioned their attackers been trying to use a stun-gun on her. Why?

In fact, why had those men been there at all? Were they from a new gang trying to move into empty territory?

He went downstairs to evidence and pulled the items from the case. There wasn’t much -- just the purse. And, as Nikki had stated, it was empty of anything other than the price tag. The cheap leather was stiff and the thing was clearly new.

Harrison had good instincts. He’d gotten to where he was because he was a good investigator as well as being politically astute. But as good an investigator as he was, he was even better at climbing the chain of command, which was the main reason why he was a Captain. That, and knowing where certain bodies were buried.

Still, those instincts agreed with Mitchell’s assessment. Something else was going on.

His department had moved to electronic record keeping a while ago, and he used that now to do a bit more digging into Weston. He didn’t find anything that he didn’t already have on her. And, in fact, there seemed to be a little less information than he personally had. The only new thing was the note in her file about that karate guy she was dating. As a matter of course, an officer’s relationships were investigated, at least casually, but in this case, Nikki’s boyfriend had drawn a bit of interest from whoever had gone through her personal information. Not because of the martial arts stuff though, but because the investigator had poked a bit into the man’s service record. Why, Harrison had no idea. So the guy had been in the service, so what?

Apparently the ‘so what’ in this case was that the investigator had been shut down very quickly when he tried to look a bit further into that record. Interesting, but not relevant. Harrison’s instincts said Turcotte had nothing to do with the attack. Well, other than the fact that the training Nikki had gotten from him had probably kept her alive.

So, what was going on here? Maybe Weston hadn’t been the target -- maybe it had been Ron after all. Hmmm. That was very unlikely, especially given where it had happened. Still, the more he thought about it, the more he wondered, and the more he wondered, the more suspicious of the attack he got. It hadn’t been random, but it didn’t feel like a move on territory either.

He left the office after noting the address of the incident and realized that one of the major things out of place was the location of the attack. Quite simply, it shouldn’t have happened there.

Even before his crew had started causing problems, this hadn’t been the best of neighborhoods. As expected, it was emptier of businesses than it had been the last time he’d been through -- not that that was a surprise since his crew had been driving them off. It wasn’t hard to find the building, and, making sure his car was locked, he took up his flashlight and went inside.

It was hot and it smelled. It was also falling apart so he had to be careful. He entered the room where the fight had taken place and carefully looked around. There was a bunch of trash in it and a pile of rags that looked like someone had taken a shit in them. He didn’t get too close.

He stopped looking after a few minutes and just stood still. This was a waste of time. There was nothing here, and he wasn’t sure why he’d even come. Harrison turned towards the door to leave, and it was then that he spotted it; something hidden by a broken part of the wall. He walked over and, taking out a pencil, scooted the object into the beam of his flashlight.

A taser, and a damned high end one from the looks of it. It had been discharged too. Well, well.

Long years as a cop had taught him to keep at least a handkerchief with him, and he used it to carefully wrap the thing up. He put it in his pocket and left, transferring his find to an evidence bag when he was back at his car. He pulled away from the curb returning to the station.

“Hello Marci,” said Harrison, striding into the lab. He smiled as the small, nervous girl started.

“C ... captain, hi,” she said.

All though she had only been here a year, Marci was a good lab tech. But even better for his purposes, she had no self-confidence and was easily cowed by authority. Specifically, his authority. He’d often wondered if he could use that to make the girl do other things besides run, or lose, the occasional piece of evidence as a special favor to him. He knew she needed the job to help her mother pay for her younger brother’s care. The boy had some disease or another, and her family wasn’t wealthy. She owed him because he’d managed to slightly bend the rules to get her brother covered under her insurance. A legal fiction, since he was not, in fact, her dependent. Still, the favor had given him a measure of control over her (after all, if it came to light the boy wasn’t her dependent, that medical coverage would go away and she’d probably end up owing a lot of money), and the other favors she’d done -- none directly traceable to him of course -- had put her more deeply in his pocket. If she’d had more self-confidence, she would have known she could apply for a hardship for her brother, or actually take him as her dependent, and kept the medical coverage. Ah, the naiveté of the young.

“How is Eddie?” he asked, laying the bagged taser on the table between them. Her eyes flicked down at it, then at him. She ended up looking down at the floor.

“He’s doing m ... mostly okay,” she said. “It’s an ongoing thing.”

“Good, good,” he said, with a false smile of sympathy. “I’m glad to hear it. And you? Everything going well here?”

“Y ... yes sir,” she replied, still not looking at him. “I ... I’m just putting in some extra hours.”

“Excellent,” he said. “Dedicated people are hard to come by.”

“Thank you sir,” she said, blushing.

She was so cute. If her tits were a bit bigger he would have been interested in fucking her, but as it was, she really wasn’t his type. Also, he wasn’t so stupid that he’d use his position for sex, at least not until he had her completely under his control. Sexual harassment was such a hot button issue nowadays and he had no desire to get caught up in a scandal.

“Well, since you’re here anyway,” he continued, “maybe you could do a favor for me?”

“O ... of course,” she said. “Whatever you need.”

“If you could dust this taser and see if there are any prints on it, it would be very helpful to me,” he said.

“Yes, sir, of course sir.”

“This is a cold case,” he lied. “You can just give me the information and the taser back. No need to go all official.”

“A cold case?”

“Well,” he continued, oozing charm and a bit of authority, “I like to keep my hand in, if you know what I mean. No need for anyone else to know that though.”

“Yes, sir, I’ll do it right away.”

“Good, good,” he said. “Call my cell when you have something.”

He turned and left the room.

Marci looked up as the door closed and Harrison would have been shocked by the change in her demeanor.

“Fucking asshole,” she muttered to herself. But she quickly got to the work of pulling off prints and finding out who’d used the thing, all trace of her lack of self-confidence gone.

Unsurprisingly, Marci came through for him, and very quickly. He knew she didn’t have much of a life -- other than work and caring for her brother. She emailed him the name, and even better, a picture of the owner of the taser. This was something that he could act on -- not that he’d be putting an APB out on the guy. No, he had something better in mind.


“How may I help you my son?” asked the good Father, drawing Harrison away from other people.

Talk like that always made Harrison wince internally, but he rarely said anything about it. Father Bob, for all that he was involved in some very odd things, was quite serious about his religion.

“A couple of my people ran into some trouble downtown,” said Harrison in a low voice.

“Do you need me to minister to them?”

It was all Harrison could do to keep from laughing in the man’s face. Seriously? The guy wanted to ‘minister’ to them?

“No, but I’d like to know why certain ... agreements ... aren’t being kept.”

“I’m afraid I don’t understand,” replied the Father.

Harrison handed the carefully folded up picture.

“Yes you do,” he said. “I’d like this problem taken care of, since it spilled over onto one of my people.”

After he glanced at it, the paper disappeared into the Priest’s robes with barely a rustle and he asked, “Can you tell me a little more in depth what happened?”

“Couple of my guys were on patrol down town, and ran into a problem they shouldn’t have,” replied Harrison. Father Bob said nothing, so Harrison continued. “You’re supposed to keep that area secure, so I’d appreciate it if you could have your contacts take care of this.”

If he had to get more explicit right here on the street he was going to get pissed. The deal was that he would clean out the businesses if the good Father’s people kept out everyone else after they did. He knew he didn’t have to remind the Priest of that -- the guy was just being a sanctimonious dick.

“I will be happy to do what I can,” beamed the Father, putting a hand on Harrison’s shoulder and guiding him back to the stream of people still leaving the church.

They made a perfect picture, the two of them. Law enforcement and the Godly. It would play well in the people’s memories come election time.

“How,” snapped the Priest as he leaned on his desk, “did he get his hands on this?”

“I don’t know sir,” said the man, shifting nervously from one foot to the other.

“I asked you to do something simple and you failed,” said the Father. “Worse, it has come to the attention of Harrison.”

“Sir, I...”

“Out,” said the Father, waving his hand.

Father Bob sat thinking.

Of course, there would have been no way to grab the woman without pissing off the police, but the Priest really couldn’t have cared less about that. What he cared about was that the idiots he’d sent to do it had tried to snatch her in an area he supposedly had control over -- which was no doubt why they’d done it. Easier for them. But clearly they were too stupid to think about the heat it would bring down if something happened to an Officer of the Law in that area. There was obviously a correction needed in certain leadership positions.

Worse, Harrison and his crew were becoming a problem, if for no other reason than the fact that his idiotic vendetta against this Whitestone person was raising his profile in unacceptable ways. Father Bob knew that most of what he needed was already his, so it might be time to cut Harrison loose.

Of course, the man knew too much about the Church’s Holy Work to just be allowed to walk away. He would have to be ... silenced first. Disgraced, perhaps, to insure that he wouldn’t be believed if he did manage to spill anything, then silenced. The rest of the barbarians working for the man were of no threat, and Mitchell was completely loyal to the Church.

 
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