The Deadwyng Detective Agency
A "Bulleit Time" spinoff.
Deadwyng | Payback
“Who hired you?”
Another hammering punch rocked his head; the sound echoing throughout the dank, dimly lit room.
Her father, you imbeciles, Shepard Black thought to himself. His head throbbed where the bullet had grazed his temple. That blow had been just debilitating enough to allow the Sentinels to overwhelm and subdue him.
Now he was confined to a metal chair with his hands tied behind his back and his ankles cuffed to the legs of the seat.
They already knew who hired him. This beatdown was for their enjoyment. Like all government thugs, they reveled in the perverse pleasure of abusing their authority.
His stubborn silence was met with more punches, but each successive knock lacked the vigor and enthusiasm of the one preceding it.
He’s getting tired. Good. Soon it’ll be my turn.
Her name was Sara Davenport, and her father was the head of an intergalactic crime syndicate. Once upon a time, Shepard Black had worked for him as an enforcer. That was when Sara and Shepard met, and they fell madly in love. However, Sara’s father did not approve of his cherished daughter gallivanting around with a man who inflicted violence on his behalf, so he drove them apart.
After that, Shepard joined the Praetorians, a private paramilitary group that operated throughout the known reaches of space. The Praetorians were famous for undertaking extremely hazardous missions, and Shepard was secretly hoping to meet his demise, such was his despondency after being forced to abandon Sara. Eventually, his death wish subsided, and he opted to cease his mercenary activities.
He became a private investigator and started the Deadwyng Detective Agency, named for his Praetorian callsign.
Two years passed, and, like everything else that required the occasional violence, he was good at it. Still, he never forgot about Sara, and he casually kept tabs on her. Recently, she had become romantically involved with a high ranking government official: some shady looking senator. Shepard had never met the guy, but he inherently disliked all politicians.
Unfortunately, Shepard’s instincts were proven right when, a few days ago, Sara’s father came into his office and asked for his help because Sara had disappeared without a trace.
“Listen here, you stubborn son of a bitch: this is your last chance to tell me what I want to know,” the Sentinel waved Shepard’s gun in front of his face, “or I’m gonna take your gun and blow her head off.”
Shepard watched as the government agent pointed his revolver at Sara Davenport. She had been cowering in the corner throughout this whole ordeal. Another Sentinel stood behind her, his presence a deterrent to any thoughts she might have had of intervening on Shepard’s behalf.
Shepard spat blood and chuckled. “Your boss is a pedophile, and you wanna kill an innocent woman because she accidentally found out his secret? Ain’t that the government for ya.”
The Sentinel growled in aggravation and lashed Shepard across the face with the gun, the thick barrel cutting into his cheek.
“Ok,” Shepard groaned theatrically, “that actually hurt.”
“You know what? I changed my mind,” the jet black barrel of Shepard’s revolver was pressed forcefully against his forehead, “I think I’ll kill you first.”
Sara Davenport shrieked in anguish from across the room, but Shepard just smiled grimly.
It was a little known fact that the Praetorians subjected their operatives to some minor genetic modifications. This enabled the mercenary soldiers to more easily adapt to the wildly different environments of the various planets to which they were deployed. As a result, most Praetorians, such as Shepard, possessed enhanced strength and were more resilient than the average person. This explained how Shepard could endure such a thrashing and still keep his senses.
It also explained how he had been able to discreetly free himself during the interrogation, and was now ready to turn the tables.
Shepard’s hands flashed in a blur of movement and suddenly the revolver was back in his possession. The Sentinels could only stare in dumbfounded befuddlement as two shots thundered in quick succession, and two bloody holes erupted: one in the chest of Shepard’s interrogator and the other in the throat of Sara’s sentry.
Sara shrieked once more and covered her ears as the deafening crack of the gunshots reverberated off the walls of the cramped room. Shepard holstered his gun, knelt in front of his hysterical erstwhile paramour, and tenderly took her in his arms. She clung to him and sobbed.
After several moments of the tearful reunion, they carefully extricated themselves from each other and Shepard helped Sara to her feet. Though her face was streaked with tears, and slightly bruised, she was just as breathtakingly beautiful as he remembered. Her sparkling blue eyes roved over Shepard’s own battered visage as if she wasn’t quite sure whether or not it was really him.
“We’ve gotta get you out of here,” Shepard broke the intimate silence, “there are more of those bastards around, and someone will have heard the gunshots.”
Sara nodded deferentially, “I trust you, Shepard. I always have.”
Shepard Black examined the contents of the table that stood next to the door of the interrogation room. It contained various instruments of torture, two Vektor collapsible sub-machine guns, two standard issue Sentinel semi-automatic pistols, and Shepard’s switchblade. Pocketing his knife, Shepard also slung a Vektor over his shoulder, then picked one of the pistols up. He pulled back on the slide to see a round in the chamber and tucked the pistol into the back of his pants. He handed the other one to Sara.
“Still know how to use one of these?”
Sara expertly mimicked Shepard’s actions from a moment earlier and nodded confidently. The Sentinel Storm was a difficult gun to come by. It was manufactured exclusively for the government agency. The pistol fired small caliber rifle rounds, and was thus extremely accurate at longer ranges than the average handgun. Shepard decided that, if they survived this ordeal, the Storm would be a prized addition to his gun collection.
With the Vektor sub-machine gun at the ready, Shepard cautiously opened the door and peered out into an empty corridor. Though he had been dazed and blindfolded when the Sentinels had dragged him to this room, Shepard’s well tuned instincts allowed him to subconsciously map out their route. He headed left out of the door, careful to keep Sara behind him.
Loud footsteps echoed from somewhere up ahead and a small group of Sentinels rounded a corner a couple hundred feet in front of the escaping duo. Shepard fired a short burst with the Vektor, and the government agents quickly retreated backwards, but not before several rounds found their marks, and howls of agony resonated throughout the hallway. Shepard and Sara advanced warily.
Shepard leaned around the corner…and drew back hastily as it was the Sentinels turn to unleash a volley of gunfire. Bullets tore into the walls and the two jail-breakers shielded their faces protectively from the shrapnel flying up all around them. As soon as the shooting stopped, Shepard dropped to one knee, swung out from behind cover, and emptied his sub-machine gun into the cluster of agents with controlled bursts.
With nowhere to hide, the Sentinels were ripped to pieces. Shepard dropped the depleted Vektor and drew the Storm pistol. He and Sara stepped gingerly over the shredded bodies of their captors, both of them eyeing the metal staircase at the end of the hallway.
“That’s the way out of here.”
”You’re sure?” Sara was dubious. She had been held captive in the facility for days and didn’t share Shepard’s confidence. To her it was all an endless, confusing maze.
“I thought you said you trusted me,” Shepard said wryly. Sara shrugged and motioned for him to lead the way.
They went up the stairs as quickly as they dared. At the top was a door leading outside. They both stepped out into a rain soaked mid-afternoon on the planet Novos 9.
“What the Hell is this?” exclaimed a gruff voice behind them. Sara and Shepard turned to see three more Sentinels emerging from a parked car. Before anyone else could react, Sara was already firing. Her first two shots took the closest agent in the chest.
Bullets ricocheted off the car as she adjusted her sights towards the remaining Sentinels. They raised their own weapons to return fire. Sara’s barrage faltered as she hesitated, anticipating her demise.
Bloody craters exploded from her assailants’ foreheads.
Shepard calmly lowered his gun, a trail of smoke emanating from the barrel. She shot him a look of eternal gratitude, and they finally took in their surroundings.
The building from which they had emerged appeared to be a nondescript warehouse. In the distance, they could see Novos 9’s shimmering metropolis.
“He’s not here,” Sara remarked with apprehension.
“Your douchebag boyfriend?”
She gave him an annoyed punch on the shoulder. “I think it’s safe to say that ship has sailed.”
“I guess we better get you back to your father.”
“My father can wait,” Sara threw her arms around his neck, staring at him with seductive impishness, and kissed him passionately in the pouring rain, “I’m all yours just now.”
Afterword: To enhance the impact of this story, listen to the song below after you read.
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Great pace throughout. More please!👏