Dark Web

Dark Web-Dark-Commissions Chapter One - Peter

The laptop alerted the email delivery. Peter swiped his finger across the mouse pad and the screen came to life. He tapped on Outlook and typed in the password and accessed the email.

I HAVE ANOTHER ONE OF THOSE CASES FOR YOU.

DETAILS TO FOLLOW.

SEE YOU IN AN HOUR.

USUAL PLACE.

S XX

Peter closed the email and closed the lid of the computer down. His small, neglected office was dark and dusty but here he, was obscure and an unremarkable, no-one could find him, unless he allowed it. He only interacted with the world on is terms, only his people brought him mysteries and puzzles and very occasionally, intrigues in the criminal world and that was Sam, Samantha Archer. The upper floor had three sub-offices. Peter had the front facing one, with a view of the street below. The other two were vacant. Peter paid the landlord to keep them empty, spinning a lie that he needed extra room for his files and for storage. Peter had set up a futon in one of the other offices and a coffee machine and all the little comforts of home, he often slept over.

Peter stood up and gathered his coat and put his laptop and charger in his black back-pack and headed out of the door. He made certain to lock the door carefully. Two Yale locks and a dead bolt snapped into place. He made his way downstairs and out onto the street, locking the street door, with a Yale lock and further dead-bolt lock. He enjoyed the jangle of keys in his hand and made off down the street in the quiet town of Buntingford. He liked the market town, and it wasn't London. The town had a cloak of sleepy mediocrity about it, nothing of any importance would ever come from this little town.

That was exactly what Peter liked.

Because Peter needed to be invisible and to see them coming. It was less than an hour, when he pulled up at his usual pub in the village of Clavering, made famous by its association with the parents of famous TV chefs. As usual, Peter took the furthest table from the door, with a nice view of the comings and goings from the bar and the restaurant. Peter's counter-surveillance was second nature now and only slightly paranoid. Peter would smile at his super-spy attitude, but he quite enjoyed the 'cloak and dagger' world, he had insinuated himself into.

A familiar face came through the restaurant door and walked over and joined him. The bar-staff sensed a order and came over smartly.

"Can I get you some drinks?" The slightly built teenager, on a summer job, asked politely.

"I'll have a flat white and my friend will have a Latte. We will both your tasty Bacon and Brie Panini, mine without the cranberry." Peter always had the same thing, the certainty and familiarity, and it was his only carbs of the day. He kept a iron grip on his calorific intake. His lean, taut physique was achieved only though iron will, an expensive gym membership and 15Km on his Peloton bike every two days. Money was no object for Peter, enjoying a private revenue stream, kept hidden through clever accounting and only the absolute minimum taxation. Peter's solitude was everything to him, burdened with high functioning autism, his time had to be filled but he decided how.

Samantha smiled at Peter; she enjoyed these clandestine meetings. It was the only fun part of her job, she found her job as a collator in the police force was usually hum-drum, but just occasionally she would get treasure, from the depths of computerised text and still the good old paper back-ups, and the latest reports from the victims and would email Peter. Now she was here, with an encrypted memory stick in her shoulder bag and a three folded A4 pages.

"I have a report for you," Samantha smiled, "this one might give you something to work on."

Samantha, or Sam to her colleagues had known Peter since their school days. His white, blonde hair and intense personality had made him an easy target for the school bullies and also made it hard for him to make friends and impossible to have a relationship. Of course, now Peter would have been placed on the autistic spectrum, but in the 1900's,he was just weird. Sam had no problem using his talent for analysis to further her career, he'd been good news for her. Peter had given her three great leads that she passed off as her own work. Sam knew who to feed the information too and claimed that she'd pieced it together from the records. Sam knew this case would get her out of the collator's room and on the fast track to the good life. She reasoned that if she didn't apply him to these unsolved cases, he'd be even more lost than he was already.

"Good," Peter smiled back, anticipating his coffee and toasted sandwich.

Peter wasn't interested in fame and notoriety, and he was fully aware that Sam was passing off his discoveries has her own. That didn't matter to Peter, he had his own reasons for doing what he did and fame was of no importance to him. Samantha paid him in other ways.

Samantha

In his rented first floor, one-bedroom, flat Peter made a cup of tea and opened his laptop and unfolded the pages. It took a couple of hours, to digest the sad details of yet another abduction. those bastards had struck again. Another collection of lives that will never be the same again, and will not, unfortunately, fully recover. The partners will probably separate and perhaps never see each other again. It had happened with the only two other reported cases. Only three such abductions had been reported in three years. Peter, familiar with the pattern of the abductions reviewed the recorded deposition made by the woman.

"Take your time Anna," the female police officer urged," you have all the time you need, and we can take a break at any time." The comfort room had excellent acoustics and Peter could hear every sigh and word. He put on his Sony Wireless headphones and listened closely, with the volume high.

Peter noted that Anna, the victim. was well spoken and was succeeding in controlling the violent emotions prompted by her reliving of her abuse by the men that abducted her. Peter listened intently and took details notes on a black notebook held on his lap.

Anna began her story, "the first thing I noticed as a black van slowly pull up beside me as I walked down the road, while I was walking my little dog. The driver wound down his window down, he was wearing a blue mask and asked me if I knew where 11, Walnut Road was. As I turned to answer him, I noticed the door on the body of the van slide open and two other men in black and for the life of me, I just got in. I just let go of the lead of my dog, and got in their van, voluntarily! One of the men fished around in my gilet jacket for my house key and took my dog away. Then the door was slid shut and I was made to be quiet, but I didn't scream. I suppose I was frightened; I think?"

Peter listened and noted that the van had been different in each of the cases. There were three men though in each of the other abductions. There were following a pattern. Anne's voice shook but continued "Once they had me in the back of the van, they held me and I let them put a ball-gag into my mouth and a band fastened around my head, but I didn't choke. Finally, I can't remember much after that," Anne paused and Peter wondered if she was holding back in some way, "but the van drove off."

Peter forwarded the recording to the next segment. He wanted to analyse what they said to her. Anna's voice had recovered some of its composure, " I don't know how long I was in the van, I just sat, waiting. All I could think off, was what had happened to my dog. After the van stopped. They helped me out of the van and led me into a building, but I couldn't see much of anything, I may have been blindfolded. I just don't know.

Peter, with a hovering finger over his laptop, paused the recording. He realised that this group used different locations, which suggested an excellent knowledge of the area and impressive forward planning. The lack of recall was definitely a feature of these cases. It troubled him.

"I had no idea what was going on, until I was sat down on what had to be the edge of a mattress. I discovered that they were all standing round me, I was waiting for them to tell me what they wanted. I saw that there were three of them now, they all wore full masks, white ones that looked like ones in science-fiction films. I was a bit frightened, and I think I was going to cry. But then I stopped."

Peter noted the masks were the same ones that had been reported in the other two cases.

Anna continued, "I asked them what they wanted and the only one who spoke, told me to undress," Anna started to sob again, Peter noted down that the gang had copied the pattern again, only one spoke, the other two were silent the whole time. Again, Peter was impressed, if not dismayed at the group discipline. After the interviewing officer paused and then restarted the recording Anna was more in control, but Peter knew the next part would be the worst.

"He told me that they were going to take what they wanted from me, so it was up to me how it would go. He told me that if I didn't resist, then I wouldn't be hurt." Anna began to cry again. Peter nodded, unconsciously, the gang made the victim choose how they would endure their time. These men know how to use psychology in their approach. Making Anna choose to cooperate, made her submissive to their will, and of course, using the threat of harming her, tipped the balance completely. Peter now understood that this gang was completely different from other kidnappers. They never actually used violence, the implied threat and then something else happened. Peter couldn't put his finger on it, it was almost as if they had another way to get these women to engage in these acts. Whatever it was, it meant that his investigation would be much more difficult to conduct. Peter, understood that there was a real problem. These men wouldn't stop.

Anna continued with a detailed and quite harrowing recount of her attack, "They told me that if I cooperated and don't fight them, then not only would they use condoms but they wouldn't have my daughter join in." Peter knows how they would use the threat to make her submit to their demands. And of course, she did, what choice did she have? No actual violence, just the threat of making her daughter suffer like her.

"I had to let them do it, and...." Peter didn't want to listen to the rest of the recording but made himself sit through it. He needed to hear if these men would do something new or different. After sifting through Anna's recollection of the sex acts, Anna revealed something new and even more disturbing. Her face blushed on the screen and her voice became a coarse whisper, "They made me sort of enjoy it."

Peter stopped the recording, 'made her enjoy it? 'He thumbed the play button again.

Anna's breathing gasped in her throat, but she felt compelled to describe what she had done, "I took my clothes off for them, I let them touch me and use me, "Peter could hear her tears again, but then a sudden calmness as she recalled the next part of her ordeal," I let them use me in every part of me. I asked them... I wanted them to put themselves in me, all at the same time. I gelt like I wanted them, and they wanted me and I let them. Is this even an attack?"

Peter stopped the recording. This was it! This was confirmation of that this gang was the same men, in the other two cases. Peter immediately thought of drugs. Had they slipped her a drug to make her more pliable? He sifted through the files and found a report showing that nothing had been found in Anna's system. Of course, many drugs didn't show up. Systole? Ketamine? Peyote? Or even Mescaline? All these drugs wouldn't show up in a blood screen, especially after the four-hour abduction period was another feature of these abductions. Ann continues with her interview.

"The talker, told me that they'd been doing this for years and their 'brother officers' would never convict them but if I should think of approaching the police, then they had some insurance." Her voice cracked with emotion. Peter frowned at the phrase. He'd been investigating this group for over a year, and this was now a new piece of evidence, another piece of the puzzle. He stopped the recording and looked through his notes and opened a new window on the laptop. Peter opened the notes from the only other two cases, he had found out about. This gang picked their victims very carefully, with almost military precision, he highlighted each point with the I-beam:

1. Three men.

2. Middle aged or mature women, always divorced or long term separated.

3. Always have children- often late teens or twenties.

4. Professional or an occupation that would suffer from their ordeal becoming public

5. Excellent intelligence and research of the area.

6. Coercion and some sort of submissive compliance and acceptance of what is done.

7. The abductee enjoyed the experience- no violence and no physical injuries, beyond any injury through the sexual contact.

Peter looked down the longer list of questions, that he had compiled about this group.

Questions

1. Money?

2. Why? apart from the sex themselves?

3. Police knowledge- how do they avoid detection?

4. How do they pick the women?

5. How do they pick people from reporting the attack?

6. Did they have a type? Was that driving them to pick these women?

7. Personal? Did they know their victims?

8. How do they achieve a level of compliance or submission?

9. Is it a combination of drugs and what? Hypnosis? Suggestion?

Peter sat and steeled himself and listened to the rest of Anna's interview, after pouring a generous glass of white wine, with ice cubes to dilute it. He wanted to remain clear-headed, but he liked the taste.

Anna concluded her interview after several pauses, when the recollection became too much, "Then he told me to put my clothes on, except they kept my panties." Pete tensed and frowned. He stopped the recording again and typed onto his questions list.

6. Kept underwear. Why? This is new, not mentioned in the previous abduction.

Peter listened with greater concentration now, would there be more new information? Was this gang going to make a mistake?

He started the recording again, "I couldn't believe that he said that his brother officers would arrest them! And then he told me that while they had been doing things to me, they had filmed me and that because I had cooperated with them, they could cut the film to make it look like a porno film and If I went to the police, then they would email it to make friends and my boss and then on porn sites." That was the last straw for Anna, she broke down and wept with restraint. Her gasps and sobs were heart-wrenching, but her strength and courage had brought another valuable piece of information to Peter's attention.

Peter could an hour to collate the information in his head, he sipped at his wine and typed notes on the laptop. He felt that this new information would give him a fresh avenue to examine but he had to think through what this all meant.

He needed to switch off his brain. He glanced at the time. The clock on his laptop read 00:36, but he decided to go for a run anyway. After dressing in his running skins, he quietly made his way down the passageway from his first floor flat, tucking his spare single key and his phone away in the concealed thigh pocket and made his way out to the parking area. The evening was still pleasant and dry, the summer had been disappointing, but he was liked the British weather. His run took him out of the alley way through the main street and out to the town. The lights were on and his path was illuminated well, being a Sunday evening, the streets were empty and Peter set off at his usual medium pace. He didn't need to be fast runner, his metabolism was fast enough, his toned physique was in good condition, but his running was not just to maintain his tone but, he needed to excise the images of what the recording had lodged in his mind.

He thought of Anna's life before her attack, and then what she would have had to endure. The gang used a twisted psychology of submission and compliance that made their abduction of her more titillating and perhaps something else to make a better experience. Peter quickened his pace and ran up the slight hill to the petrol station at the junction with the A10, something was gnawing at him. The whole set up for Anna was more polished and more professional. The only other attacks that had been reported, didn't have the filming element. The other two attacks were just as carefully planned and executed but this one had two different elements: the filming and the taking of the underwear. Peter crossed the road and started his return lap, his pace steadied on the down-ward leg. The filming and the underwear, simply added to the experience-his viewing experience,

The next morning showered and dressed Peter was out early and walked briskly to his little office, above the estate agents in the town, once inside, he linked up his laptop and started off the printer, Peter pulled penny piece sized blobs of blu-tac and decorated the walls of one of the empty offices with print outs and pictures. Peter regarded his handy-work and then pulled out his mobile phone and scrolled down and thumbed the contact's name. The phone rang three times and Sam answered.

"Hello, Pete, you got something for me?" Her vice was quiet, he knew she'd be at work at this hour.

"It's Peter, you know I don't like Pete!" Sam liked to irritate to balance the power dynamic in their relationship." Yes, meet me at the office after your shift. You can bring me my fee."

"Okay. Be there at 7." Samantha hung up.

Peter was pleased to hear the exterior doorbell go at 6.58pm. He smiled, he enjoyed her punctuality and went down to open the door. He opened to see her in a short leather jacket, his favourite outfit, black tight strappy top, that accentuated her medium sized boobs and tight denim jeans that cupped her shapely bum.

"Samantha, you look lovely." Peter smiled.

"Thank you, Peter, shall we?" Samantha smiled back. She been thinking about him all day and the fun she would have this evening.

Samantha walked into the first office and looked around at the paper adorned wall and then the familiar futon by the wall. She turned and slipped off her shoulder bag and her jacket, pooling on the floor. Next, her strappy top was deftly pulled over her head, releasing her pert breasts that shook invitingly. Peter was on her immediately, licking and sucking at her erect, pink nipples. Soon, they were both stripped of their clothes and laying on the futon. Peter had rolled her on her stomach, kissing her back and her full buttocks, Samantha moaned out loud, enjoying his kisses and anticipating hands and prise open her cheeks to lick her anus. Peter was very good at licking her, and Samantha loved his attentions. She didn't really like your pear-shape, always trying new ways to slim down her large arse-cheeks but Peter loved them with a passion. She knew how hard, he would be by now, his excitement was quite predictable and soon enough, she felt his large wet glans rubbing against her buttocks, as Peter kissed every inch of her back right up to her neck.

She rolled over and allowed Peter to continue his ministration her 32b tits, licking and sucking on her nipples, all the time building her own arousal.

Samantha had discovered how good Peter was in bed, after accidentally bumping into each other after a couple of years apart, while she was at Longfield police college. She had been content to date the usual stream of handsome athletic types, but never other cadets, but had always been disappointed with their sexual techniques. Every one of those boys were overly selfish in bed, she had to train them to get her at least partially wet before they pushed their cocks inside her. Dating boys like that never lasted long, but then, one night, she found Peter in a bar in the town. It had been at least two years and boy, had be filled out nicely. He had put on some good muscle on him now and lost the geeky glasses, his clothes were expensive, and he was looking more confident in himself. After a couple of drinks, Peter looked quite good to her, and so Samantha had invited him back to her flat. Samantha had been pleasantly surprised with him and was exactly what she wanted that night. It had only been in the early hours, that Peter said that he had to go and sleep back in his own bed, as he wouldn't sleep with another body next to him.