Dark Angel: Mirror Crack'dbyinyotefi©
Disclaimer: Dark Angel and related characters are the property of James Cameron, Charles H. Eglee, and the Fox Network; I do not own any rights to it. This is an erotic fan-fiction based on the cancelled TV series that starred Jessica Alba in the lead role (Max); therefore if you are unfamiliar with the TV show you will be unable to follow the story. This parody is written for entertainment purposes only; I do not make any money off writing it. My apologies for writing anyone too much out of character, and for any spelling/grammatical errors.
Events herein are based on Dark Angel Season Two.
Authors note: I received flattering appraisal for the work I did on 'Dark Angel: Nark' and while I am truly grateful, I can't help feeling unworthy. I am a fan as much as the rest of you, and as such I am always in search of a good Dark Angel or Alba story myself, and there are other great authors here on Literotica; Supman being a particular favourite of mine, so I simply cannot be the best. Anyhow, I managed to sit and take another stab at bleeding the concept of a Dark Angel erotica and this piece of work is the result. Mind you it is a work-in-progress and I'm still developing the plot, so don't expect updates every other day like with 'Nark' please. I would also like to send a shoutout to SammyColt and Supman for checking my work before I posted it, so thanks fellas. Enough of me blabbering, hope you enjoy it (comments/constructive criticism of course are always welcomed) - INYOTEF ;)
The sound of a thump...
...Of a heartbeat...
...There is the distant whirling of a chopper blade, and the sound as of ringing in ones ears after an explosion...
...A man screams; followed by the sickening crunch of a fist connecting with his jaw...
...A chopper swirls out of control thru the night air...
...There is a screech as it crashes and scrapes on the wet asphalt of the street, then the roaring of flames and the smell on gasoline...
...The man flies out of the window and groans as he tumbles on the ground, his fingers scraping the tar road, and cut by the minute shards of splintering glass. He turns to see the silhouette of a woman walking out of the fire as a spark ignites the gas and the chopper is engulfed in flames and explodes...
He tries to crawl away, but a hand spins him around and a fist punches thru his face- It feels as if he were hit with a brick. He looks up to see full bee-sung lips and soft bedroom eyes...
The woman speaks, 'I want Soto Marc, where is he!?' she demands.
'Go fuck yourself!' the man says defiantly, spitting up blood.
He flicks a false tooth filled with cyanide loose with his tongue and bites down on it, his mouth foaming, before he chokes to death in the woman's clutches...
'Dammit,' said Max, her brow furrowing in frustration...
...Except that while she was physically identical to a fault- She was not Max!
Seattle, two days later...
...Max- the real Max- ran; moving at a blurring pace as the men on motorcycles tried to chase her down. She ducked behind a burnt out bus and listened carefully. She looked down at the lead pipe at her feet and quickly put the papers in her inner-jacket pocket before zipping it closed, then flicked the pipe up with her foot, readying her stance. She heard one of her three pursuers coming toward her then came out of hiding and hit him in the throat taking him clean off the bike and crashing to the ground.
'This way, over here, I found the bitch!' she heard the other goon call out, alerting his buddy.
She ran and picked up the downed bike, straddling it and revving the engine, grinning to herself as she reared it and sped off. She spun around and ramped up onto the roof of the bus then flew over the fence into the train yard, the goon crashing through the gate behind her, giving chase. She skidded the bike back around and dropped it on its side and then revved it again, the hind wheel spinning and pelting stones up like bullets. The goon screamed as the bombarding stones hit him hard taking him off the bike and killing him.
The last bad guy came through the gate and stopped his motorcycle, revving the engine. Max stood up and smirked... He reared the bike in the air and rode straight at her shooting with his machine gun. Max darted to the left, messing with his aiming, then dashed at him. She leapt onto the bikes handlebar and punched him in the face, shattering his helmet's visor then flipped off the bike, landing in a roll as he toppled onto the ground knocked out cold. She got up, patting herself down and made her way out of the train yard on foot.
...Five minutes later she got into Logan's car and handed him the documents and photos.
'Thanks, Max. This should be all the proof I need to go live and put Judge Fagan away for double homicide and child molestation,' Logan said looking at the incriminating material.
Max felt the buzz of her pager and pulled it out, 'no biggy,' she smiled, looking at the number on the cracked display.. 'Hey, can I use your cell, please?'
'Sure,' Logan said, handing it to her absentmindedly, too absorbed in the papers she had given him.
Max's eyes widened as he came really close to touching her fingers with his own, and Logan looked up realising how he had almost infected himself with the retrovirus again.
'...Max I- he began, but she covered her hand with the sleeve of her leather jacket and took it from him before getting out of the car quickly. She sighed, partly out of anger but mostly out of frustration; then looked down and dialled the number on her pager. She waited for a response then froze as she heard her own voice on the other end...
'452, I need your help. Meet me in Chinatown; one hour, come alone!'
'...Sam!?' Max responded softly, but the line had already gone dead.
Max rode her bike into Chinatown trying to avoid the mass of people in the overpopulated market streets. She pulled up along side a street vendor selling tofu and let the engine idle as she waited. A figure moving on a nearby rooftop caught her eye, and her pupils expanded as her vision zoomed in to see Sam watching her.
A minute later she was scaling a ladder onto the roof and walked up to the mirror image of herself; except where she wore black leather; Sam wore a tan suede jacket over a grey shirt and a pair of black jeans with brown boots, as well as a pair of brown shades; and while Max's long brown hair was straightened, hers had curls.
Sam stood looking over the crowd of Chinatown, 'world throws a whole lotta curves at you, huh?' she said, taking a puff from her cigarette and exhaling smoke thru her nose.
Max had a stern look on her face, her last run in with her clone wasn't very pleasant, 'guess you could say that, coz I didn't expect to see you again; thought we sent you to Canada...
'So whatta ya want?'
'A man! By the name of Soto Marc... His here, in Seattle,' Sam said looking at Max.
'And what's that gotta do with me?' Max shot.
Sam looked down, sadness tainting her words, 'Look, I ain't to psyched bout asking you for help... They took my family, again, found out about our new identities and grabbed my husband and his kid on the way to school...'
'It was government agents from Interpol, their here in the country, tracking one of their own along with an arms dealer named Klaas...'
'Either I get them Soto Marc and their agent back, or I never see my family again...'
'We Transgenics aren't even human to suites,' she said looking up at Max.
Max looked away trying to hide her concern, 'whose this Soto Marc? And who is the agent they nabbed?'
'The agent's name is Sean Gleason, his being kept in some secure location in the city, I think. As for Soto, his the man that is using a new prototype version of a neural implant that increases human strength and durability-
Max's eyes widened and her hand unconsciously went to the back of her neck, where she had once used the implant Sam was describing to rescue Original Cindy...
'...Reds..' she said.
'What?' Sam asked, confused.
'I had dealings with these ampt-up soldiers in the past, their mean son's of bitches. South African Death Row inmates who were expendable to their government. They were trying to get the same results as Manticore, but their lackeys burnt out in less than a year,' Max explained.
'If the Red Series technology was upgraded to produce better results, we've got worries other than your missing family. I gotta talk to Logan...'
Logan still had a hard time staring at Max's double again, it was- weird...
'Logan,' Max said, getting his attention, 'did you hear a word I just said?'
'Eh- yeah, yeah I,' Logan stammered, frowning, '..we're talking psychotic murderers on the streets-
'No,' Sam interjected, 'just one, a prototype. Soto Marc; twice as strong and twice as dangerous.'
'Hold on...' Logan said turning to his computer, 'I need an experts advice.'
A few minutes later Logan was talking to Sabastian a quadriplegic, as well as his most reliable Eyes Only source on all things post-Pulse about the new developments over Skype. He was the one who had given Logan and Max intel on the Reds in the past and certainly knew a whole deal more about them...
'...Soto. Marc. Is. Not. The. Name. Of. A. Man,' he said speaking with his voice synthesizer, 'The. Soto. Mark. Is. The. Modal. Upgrade. Of. The. Red. Series. Implants...'
'The. South. African's. Withdrew. Funding. And. Sold. The. Technology. To. A. Japanese. Corporation. And. Doctor. Hun-Yu. Soto. Reverse. Engineered. It. After. That. He. Fled. Ashiya. After. Selling. The. New. Implant. To. NASA's. Weapons. Division. They. Granted. Him. Diplomatic. Immunity. until. He. Finished. his. Work.'
'The Soto Mark Implant,' Max said putting things in context. 'What do you know about the man that is using the prototype?' she asked looking at Sabastian on the computer screen.
'Not. Much,' Sabastian said electronically, 'His. On. The. System. As. A. John. Doe. But. He. Has. A. Rap. Sheet. That. Includes. Arson. Assault. Murder. Rape-
'Yeah, we get it,' Sam said, 'your basic renaissance dirt bag.'
'Sabastian, do you know about any defects caused by this new implant?' Logan asked.
'The. New. Implant. Connects. To. All. Major. Nerves. Thru. The. Brain. Stem. Injecting. Nanite. Receptors-
'...So it stabilises the hyper-adrenal burst with motor functions,' Max said.
'...The entire body is ampt up making the new Soto user the same as a Manticore transgenic,' Sam concluded.
'Yes. And. No. The. Soto. Mark. Is. Far. Stronger. Next. Gen. Hardware. The. User. Is. Superior. To. A. Transgenic. And. The. Bonding. Does. Not. Burn. Out. The. Body. Like. The. Red. Series. Before. It,' Sabastian explained, 'The. Data. For. Building. It. Came. From. The. Human. Nark. List. A. Year. Ago (Author: read "Dark Angel: Nark" saga).'
Max looked at Logan, 'Flinch,' she whispered.
Something. To. Keep. In. Mind. Max. A. Crazy. Stunt. Like. Going. After. The. Soto. Mark. With. A. Red. Series. Implant. Won't. Be. Enough. To. Stop. Him,' Sabastian warned, then added, 'Not. That. You'd. Survive. It. A. Second. Time.'
'Gee, thanks for the heads up,' Max said sarcastically, 'and here I was just thinking I needed another rush like that. Pity the one in my neck is fried, huh.'
Sam was sitting against the desk just staring at nothing, pulling out a smoke and lighting it up. Max saw her and put an hand on her shoulder...
She looked at Max with tears in her eyes, 'I have to go after the prototype.. Or die trying. I owe my family that.'
'Hey, I know what you mean (she was thinking of all she had done for her own X5 family), and I got your back. This prototype may be able to handle one revved up female, but he ain't ready for two.'
Sam looked at her and smiled weakly- blowing cigarette smoke into the air- then got up and left the room.
'...Look,' Logan said, 'maybe we're better prepared to go after Agent Gleason instead. Who knows, he may have intel that can help us retrieve the Soto Mark Implant.'
'I. Will. See. What. I. Can. Find. Logan,' Sabastian said before signing off.
Logan then turned to Max, the concern clearly distinguished on his face, 'Max if this new implant is that strong-
'I know,' Max said, looking absently at her boots.
'It's just, your last run in with the Reds nearly kil-
'I know,' she repeated, looking up at him sternly, 'we need to focus on this Gleason guy, can you find where they're holding him...?'
She got up and walked to the door, then stopped and turned to Logan and spoke reassuringly, 'I'll deal with this Soto Mark badass when the time comes.'
Then she left the room leaving Logan to dig up the information the way he knew best.
'This is such a bad idea,' Max said, woefully.
'You can back out if you want!' Sam shot back, 'but if it get's me a step closer to getting my family back, I'm handling my business.'
'I didn't say I'm backing out,' Max protested, 'I just, don't get how you go from a sergeant in the Bosnian Army to this.'
Sam shrugged, 'he was dirty.'
'More like filthy... Or; sleazy,' Max simpered.
They were standing in a warehouse that had recently been converted for the production of a new pornographic feature entitled "Hot 'S Harlots" by the multi-million dollar production company; "Kalm&Nasty" the owner of which they were here to see. According to Sabastian's source he was once a dirty Bosnian army sergeant who had repeatedly dealt with Klaas, and would therefore have intel or even know of safe houses where the Interpol agent, Sean Gleason, could be found...
The man in question's name was Udrik Kalm (say: ood' rick calm).
It was a squalid affair walking thru the set, and Max thanked god she wasn't currently in heat. There was apparently no regard for public decency as men and woman walked around utterly naked; one woman even had a large portion of her boobs covered in ropes of drying semen, and Max pulled her face in a disgusted scowl looking at her judgmentally.
They walked onto a set that was built up to be an outside lawn all prepped with fake grass and hedges. Sitting in the directors chair was an elderly man in his mid-sixties with the body of someone who had been well-built in his youth; he had a round face, short, thinning grey hair, and a goatee; that was dyed black. He wore a black patterned shirt, over a pair of navy-blue sweat pants with a white double-stripe down the sides, along with a pair of plain sneakers; he definitely didn't use his ridiculous wads of cash on fashion...
'Mr. Kalm!' Sam said to him, 'Udrik Kalm?'
'What the fuck is this?' Udrik whined turning in his seat, then was stunned as he laid eyes on the absolutely stunning young "twins" facing him, placing his brown-tinted shades on his forehead.
Max was staring at the scene being filmed. On the fake lawn-set, lying on a furry rug was a muscular man on whom a stunningly beautiful Polynesian looking woman with long, thick, golden-brown hair and an amazing toned body, was straddled. Lighting from the set glistened off her firm, sweat kissed, supple tits, and they jiggled as she rocked up and down. Her slender body went down to a perfectly round ass that rippled as it tapped against the man's lap as she sat there riding him slowly. Max held her breath as the woman bent forward and her fat, fleshy pussy came into view; just sliding over the large dick pleasurably.
The woman bent her upper body over the male, her succulent breasts swaying I front of his face; her rear was pushed out to show her little sphincter, her moist pussy gripping round his thick cock, plopping against his pelvis as she slapped it up and down rapidly-
'...Can I help you ladies?' Kalm said loudly, 'you're here for my threesome right?'
'What!' Max snapped, wearily.
'No!' Sam responded, less fazed, 'can we talk to you privately Mr. Kalm?'
'Ladies, are ya fuckin' insane, can't ya see I'm shootin' here?!'
'Hmph...' Max smirked, 'that's a very American accent for a Bosnian.'
Udrik's eyes shot open and he looked at the two woman suspiciously, 'who the fuck are you?'
'Like we said, we gotta talk! Privately,' Max repeated.
Udrik was clearly growing nervous, but nonetheless he turned to the set, 'Ok les cut right there...'
The stunning girl stopped riding the man and turned to Udrik and the man beneath her groaned and said, 'you killing me here UK, I can't take anymore erection pills.'
'Fuckin' move Frank!' Udrik yelled, 'and Del, sweetie, take ten and get yerself lubricated for the anal scene...'
'Ok UK,' Del said smiling widely and slipping on a robe.
'Take a break everyone, go on lunch,' he said to his crew...
A minute later Max and Sam were with Udrik Kalm in his office...
'...You are gonna tell me how the fuck ya know about-
'Shut it "UK" , we're the ones asking the questions!' Max interjected.
'Right,' Sam agreed, 'and we wanna know bout your business with Klaas?'
Udrik flinched at the name, then quickly opened his desk drawer to pull out the 45 cal he kept there, but no sooner had he done it, when his wrist was twisted and the gun was taken. Max tossed the gun to Sam who held it on Kalm.
Kalm was holding his aching wrist looking at the girls, dumbfounded, 'how the hell did ya move so fast?' he shot at Max.
'Hey, pay attention,' Max snapped, 'we already told you, we're ask the questions. Now spill what you know about Klaas or my friend here is gonna put one in your numbskull?!'
'Are ya out of your fuckin' mind, do ya know who the fuck Klaas is?'
'Yeah, his a no account gun runner,' Sam answered.
'His THE gun runner sweetie! This guy does business on four continents an' in every country that has a war going...'
'Spare us the boring scare tactics pal,' Max shot, 'we wanna know bout how and where he'd keep a high profile prisoner; like, say, an Interpol agent?'
Udrik took a seat, apparently not too fazed to have a gun pointed at him, 'Klaas is a ghost, nobody ever sees his face. His a guy in the shadows on a laptop, like Eyes Only. Nothing but a single goddamn name...!'
'She said- Sam began... But Udrik continued, 'I got no loyalty to the guy. He did me in on a deal, cost me 500 K; but Klaas is not the type of guy you plot revenge against...'
'I mean, how the fuck do you take revenge on a ghost? So I cut my losses, left Bosnia, came to the States an' got into the porn industry; big money in porn...'
He looked up at Sam, 'so you go ahead an' you pull that trigger sweetheart, coz I sure as fuck ain't getting in that mad man's sights again. Now you must have some well connected people to have found out who I was; but I changed my name, my face, my accent- everything! Coz that is the only way you cut ties with Klaas; you gotta die an' be reborn.'
'Bolto Dressler, right?' Max said, smiling when Udrik flinched again at mention of his real name, 'died in a plane crash over Turkey ten years ago...'
'...Oh I'm betting Klaas will love to find you,' Sam said, 'ya know, just that breath of relief that you're not around to talk about all the storehouses he has for his weapons.'
'What is it you did in Bosnia?' Max asked rhetorically, sitting on the side of his desk, 'oh that's right- you used air freighters to fly massive cargo shipments around for him, even some light-weight tanks, handling all major drop-offs and storage around the world...' 'Imagine how worried he'd be if you ever knocked on him...'
'I mean it would cost billions for him to move all his supplies, so it's all still the-
'ALRIGHT!' Kalm said, 'I get the picture...'
'But I'm a business man now. I can, maybe, help with what ya want, but what's in it fer me? You can't scare me with death threats an' torture honey, so we gotta come to some sort of agreement; something fair,' Udrik finished sitting back in his seat and crossing his fingers, with a winning grin on his face.