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A Top Secret Undercover Mission
🕑 Added 2021-04-21 19:12:09 +0000 UTCThis was based off of an idea by peepshow321 over on the Patreon Discord server. Thank you very much for the idea and helping bring back my writing spark. I had great fun with this one!
Officer Jason Redstone was no stranger to being given special privileges. His commanding officer had more than once told Jason that he was the “perfect police officer” and “the public pretty boy face of our department”. Comments like that always made him feel good about his decision to join the force - who didn’t like being told they were not only good at their job but damn handsome to boot?
There were many benefits to being a man in uniform but perhaps chief among them, to Jason at least, was how easily the badge won over the ladies. Of course, not every come-on Jason received was from a woman who met his standards, but his city had enough big-breasted blonde beauties to keep him going for quite a while. So what if one or two of the women he’d hooked up with lately was already married or, in the case of his latest conquest, was his commanding officer’s twenty-one year old daughter? From a young age Jason’s father had told him that the world was his playground and if he wanted something then he had every right to take it. Those were words he continued to live by, even now that he was almost pushing thirty.
To put it simply, life for Jason Redstone was good.
Given all of his career accolades, it was hardly surprising to Jason when his commanding officer informed him that he had recommended Jason to work as a special operative in an ongoing investigation about local gangs. A small contingent from the FBI had been lurking around their precinct for the past several days, all hush-hush about their purpose there, but it seemed like Jason - and him alone, his commanding officer didn’t fail to mention - was going to get the privilege of looking behind the metaphorical curtain.
When the FBI’s chief investigator on their small task force, a middle-aged redheaded woman by the name of Jennifer (not nearly pretty enough to get Jason too interested), first told the officer what he had been brought on board to do, he merely laughed. That had earned him a sharp glare from Jennifer. “Laugh all you like now, Officer Redstone, but I assure you I’m not the joking type. We need eyes on the inside of this gang, and Chief Moldove assured us you were the best man for the job. If that’s not the case, tell me now and we can find a more suitable individual.”
“Let me just get this straight… you want to put my brain into the body of some thug?” Jason queried, fighting back against the grin that was desperate to burst forth. What the FBI agent had told him was nothing short of impossible and yet she’d delivered the explanation with a completely straight face and the annoyance on her features at his dubious response didn’t seem to be faked. “Okay, okay. Sure. Trust me, you won’t find anyone better for the job than me.”
Jennifer didn’t respond verbally, but the look in her eyes suggested she was skeptical of his declaration. Instead, she led him down into the basement of the precinct and into a records room, where a large mechanical contraption had been erected. The tall machine was dominated by two glass pods, each seven feet long and three feet wide. One of the pods was empty, waiting for Jason, but stuffed inside the other was a large brute of a man. Other than his white skin, there was little else he shared in common with Jason: his muscles were grotesquely large, his head was shaved bald, his facial hair was styled in a goatee, a large burn mark spread across the left side of his face, a chunk was missing from his nose, and large tribal tattoos dominated both of his arms and the upper part of his bare torso. He looked like precisely the kind of guy that Jason would expect to be recruited into a gang as some dumb muscle, and would probably need three or four officers to take down. How the FBI had gotten him unconscious and strapped into the pod was a mystery, but the brute being out cold probably made things a lot easier for everyone else involved.
“Our brightest minds invented this machine to help us in cases like this one where we need an inside man at short notice; someone already deep in gang circles,” Jennifer explained, “It’s still a little experimental. You’ll be the fourth user and the first actually being sent out into the field.”
At this point a weedy man in a white lab coat approached them. “It works by copying your brainwaves over into the subject body, while leaving your own body in stasis. It’s perfectly safe - once the job’s done we’ll be able to transfer your mind right back into that body of yours, no problem!” he explained in a high-pitched wheeze. Jason couldn’t help but look down judgmentally at the dweeb. They were worlds apart as men and there was no debating who was the superior between them.
“How long do you think this op is going to take?” Jason asked Jennifer, deliberately adding a little more bass to his voice to intimidate the nerdy scientist.
“A week, maybe two. We need you to report to us on their movements and dealings so that we can round them up and have plenty of evidence to prosecute them,” the FBI agent responded. “Why, you got any dates lined up?”
Jason smirked. That was as close as she’d come to joking with him - he was almost impressed! “Nothing more important than the job,” he declared proudly, although truthfully he was sad to hear that he could be going a few weeks without having a beautiful woman get his rocks off. Something told him that the intimidating brute in the other pod didn’t exactly get much attention from the ladies given his deformities and beastly nature.
“We’ll, uh, need you to strip down to your briefs before getting into the pod,” the scientist piped up, a blush covering his cheeks. Jason didn’t miss the way the other man’s gaze travelled to the cop’s bulky arms either, and he sneered in disgust at the other for daring to look at him like he was a piece of meat.
With some reluctance though Jason stripped down and stepped into the glass pod. A shiver ran through his body as the scientist placed a helmet upon his head, then placed bands around his biceps, forearms, quads and ankles. Once all of the bands were in place, tiny needles protruded from them to pierce Jason’s skin, causing him to curse in surprise. “Thanks for the fucking warning!” he spat out, glaring daggers at both Jennifer and the meek scientist as the glass door to the tube was closed.
There was hardly enough time for Jason to stew in his sudden anger though, as the machine began whirring to life just a few moments later and the glass in front of the police officer completely frosted over. Lights from the base and the ceiling of the tube completely blinded him and the pressure on his skull from the helmet multiplied massively until Jason was certain that his head was about to explode as a result. Instead of such a grizzly end, he merely dropped into unconsciousness and his body fell completely still within the pod.
Two minutes later the bulky giant in the opposite pod began to stir and look around with confused eyes. He took in the small group of people looking expectantly at him, then down at his huge body, and gasped. “It-- it worked!” His words came out in a deep growl, with a noticeably ‘dumb’ intonation to them. “It’s Jason, it worked!” He shifted uncomfortably within the pod; there really wasn’t much room for the giant frame he now possessed. “Can you let me out now?”
After looking to Jennifer for permission, the scientist slid open the glass door of the pod and began unshackling Jason from his restraints until the officer-turned-gang member was finally able to step free from the claustrophobic tube. As he did so, he spread out his arms and rolled his shoulders, getting used to his larger proportions. He had a fairly muscular body himself but it couldn’t ever compare to the size of the body he was now driving - he felt like he could shoulder press a car!
While Jason familiarised himself with his temporary body, Jennifer stepped forward with a document folder in her hands. “For the duration of this operation you will be working under the identity of Griff Benson. We had his life history written up for you to help you better fit the role. Make sure you read it.” She pressed the folder into Jason’s chest, snapping him out of his inspection. “You’ll be checking in with me every twelve hours without fail. We expect thorough reports so we can make sure we stay ahead of the game.” Her tone lowered, somehow becoming even more serious: “This isn’t your average rodeo, Redstone. This is the big leagues. Don’t fuck it up!”
Opening the folder, Jason glanced down at the top sheet of paper and frowned. He could recognise that the paper was full of words, but he simply didn’t understand any of them. “What language is this in?” he grunted, looking back to the FBI agent for answers.
Jennifer frowned. “English,” she stated firmly, “Why would it be in anything else?”
“Then why can’t I read it?” Jason challenged in return. He glanced back down at the folder and flicked through some of the pages. He recognised the letters but was unable to put any of them together to form words. They had to be written in some foreign language, unless… “Benson can’t fuckin’ read, can he?”
An uncomfortable silence settled over the room for several moments until Jennifer finally huffed out a sigh. “That’s not a bad omen or anything,” she muttered under her breath, taking the folder back from the man’s grasp. They’d have to have someone read the information within to Jason and hope that he hadn’t inherited Benson’s lack of intelligence as well as his lack of reading ability. That would for sure leave their operation doomed. As if it wasn’t bad enough that they were putting their hopes in some alpha bro with an obvious ego…
It’s gonna be a long two weeks!
Jason had been operating the flesh of Griff Benson for eight days and still wasn’t used to seeing the man’s scarred features in the mirror, or carrying around the immense bulk of his body. Every footfall sounded like a clap of thunder and Jason was horrifically clumsy as he miscalculated his strength any time he had to use his hands. Benson’s poor cell phone had received more than a couple cracks since Jason had been in the driver’s seat. Truthfully he felt like something of a clown and was quickly growing to resent the operation, but he held on in hope of a major payday that would come once it was all over and they had taken the gang down for good.
Jennifer continued to be frosty whenever he made contact with her, but he’d at least been able to pass along information on the gang’s ringleader (a heavily-tattooed young woman with a punk-rocker aesthetic who only answered to the name Riot) as well as their planned information. Frustratingly Jason - or, more accurately, Griff Benson - wasn’t privy to every piece of information but he gleaned whatever he could and passed it along at the earliest convenience, hoping with each point of contact that it would be enough for Jennifer to declare him ready for extraction from his undercover operation. Much to his chagrin, she only ever asked for more.
To make matters worse, Jason’s suspicions about Benson’s lack of sexual options had been confirmed. There were a couple of pretty young things in Riot’s gang - a blonde named Betty and her brunette bestie, Clare - but when he’d approached them and grunted out a pick-up line that would have worked like a charm had he been in his own skin, he was met with disgust from Betty and mocking laughter from Clare. Never in his years had any woman ever reacted to him in such a fashion! Indeed their reactions had left Jason’s ego so severely wounded that he’d actually ended up volunteering to go out on one of Riot’s “assignments”.
He and several others made their way to one of the more affluent areas of the city and smashed in the windows to several stores and overturned vehicles before fleeing at the first sound of sirens. Being on the other side of the law provided a certain thrill for Jason, one he never would have considered before, and truthfully he found himself craving that thrill in the days that followed. His involvement was kept a secret from Jennifer of course, but as the days rolled on and Jason’s only other method of relief was the giant paw of a hand he now possessed, he felt more and more inclined to go out and cause some more chaos.
While wrestling with the corrupting desire inside of him, Jason found himself falling further and further into bitterness. He missed seeing his handsome features in the mirror rather than the ugly mug of Griff Benson. Each and every time he caught sight of the nose that had evidently been broken multiple times over, or the teeth missing whenever he smiled, frustration bubbled up within the undercover cop. Even more frustrating was the thought that his body was standing in that pod wearing nothing but his boxers and that fruity scientist was probably drooling all over him. Maybe he was even feeling up Jason’s body when he was alone with the machine! The thought made the huge man shiver in disgust. The sooner he was back in his body and could get back to his usual lifestyle of being the city’s favourite cop and most eligible bachelor, the better. He just had to hold onto hope that the moment would be coming any day now…
The first indication that something was wrong was when Jennifer didn’t pick up the call. No matter what time of day it was that Jason dialed her number, she was always there to receive the information and even on the rare occasion the ling had rung off, she’d always phoned him back within minutes. He’d phoned seven times over the course of half an hour and still hadn’t heard back, thus, something was wrong.
It didn’t take all that long for Jason to find out what it was, and much to his horror, it was so much worse than anything he could have anticipated. The warehouse Riot’s gang had moved into just a few days previously was abuzz with activity when Jason arrived back, and after listening in to Betty and Clare’s excited chatter, he’d been able to piece together what had happened: there had been multiple explosions at the police station and there was both severe structural damage and loss of life. Supposedly Riot had an “inside man” who had planted explosives within the building and then escaped once the timers were running. Riot had wanted to incite chaos and it was clear as day that she’d achieved her goal with such a heinous action.
Staggering away into a dark corner of the warehouse, Jason’s heart raced as he considered the possible fallout of such a dreadful event. Sure, there was every chance that his colleagues and friends might have been hurt or killed, but even worse was the idea that the machine or his body might have been damaged during the explosion! His breaths came in shallow and beleaguered as he desperately tried to reassure himself that it couldn’t be as terrible as it sounded.
Fishing his cell phone out of his pocket and bringing up the news app (he had to rely on his familiarity with the icon rather than the miniscule text underneath that he still couldn’t read), he was immediately greeted with a live video feed outside of his place of work. His heart sank and his gut twisted into a tight knot as he took in the sight of the fiery blaze. Firefighters were doing their best to get it under control but it seemed to be something of an impossible task as the fire continued to rage in the background of the camera shot.
As he fought back the urge to cry - an incredibly rare moment of vulnerability for a man who perceived displays of emotion to be exposing inner weakness - Jason was barely able to hear what the news reporter was saying about the explosion. It was, of course, already being linked to the growing gang hostilities within the city and the reporters were even able to drop the name Riot in their coverage, although still nobody had any idea what this ‘Riot’ individual looked like, if they were male or female, or where their gang of anarchists could be found.
It was what the reporter had next to say that really captured Jason’s attention though: “We’re here with an officer from the department who thankfully came off duty just ten minutes before the explosion rocked the precinct.” The reporter was then joined in the shot by said officer and Jason gasped so loudly that several members of the gang turned to look at him. The cell phone had dropped out of his grasp too, earning another crack on the glass screen, as if it hadn’t been unlucky enough already.
With shaking hands Jason collected the phone from the floor and looked at the screen. There was no mistaking the man being interviewed, and even though he couldn’t read it Jason knew in gut-wrenching detail what the caption on the bottom right of the screen had to say: Jason Redstone, Police Officer. That was his own body right there on live television! Somehow, someway, his body had been hijacked and he was left trapped in the brutish body of Griff Benson to boot. The nervous body language of the identity thief clued the real Jason in to the responsible party as well, and he cursed himself for ever underestimating that nebbish FBI scientist. He’d known from the very first moment that the dweeb was a freak and look what had happened - the dweeb had stolen his body and then destroyed the only way for Jason to escape the hellish life he was only supposed to make a temporary stop in.
“My heart aches seeing this, it really does,” the fake Officer Redstone declared in a sombre tone, “But you can rest assured that we won’t rest until we have the responsible parties behind bars for the rest of their lives.” His gaze met the camera lens and Jason got the distinct impression that the other man was looking straight through the airwaves and right at him. “Whoever you are, you’ve made your bed, and this officer of the law is going to make sure you lay in it.”
As the broadcast continued without the identity thief, Jason finally turned it off and thrust the cell phone back in his pocket. He was boiling with a rage that he had never experienced before - he needed to break something. His violent urges were immediately given an outlet when Riot whistled him over and explained that she wanted him to lead a second attack right in the city’s central district. It was incredibly risky but Jason - no, Griff Benson, as he knew he’d depressingly be forever known as - was completely consumed by the intensity of his anger and agreed immediately.
Ultimately it was that same fury that blinded Griff to such an extent that he couldn’t see he was walking into a trap. He and the small gang of individuals that Riot had assigned to go with him had barely made it into the city’s central plaza and pulled out the molotovs they were planning to use when they were suddenly surrounded by police officers both in uniform and plain-clothed but all armed and prepared to bring the gang of criminals down by force if they had to. Several members of the gang understandably attempted to run but were quickly brought down by tasers in response, while others, including Griff, became violent in their resistance. Riot had indoctrinated them to believe that cops were nothing more than politician-worshipping pigs and were no better than the mud on her boots. Her followers had eaten it up too and although Griff’s previous life as a hotshot cop had stopped from agreeing with her, he felt light years away from that identity and defaulted to the rhetoric that he had surrounded him for the past several weeks. He was prepared to fight every single one of those pigs!
Despite his massive size and strength, the ugly brute was finally brought down and put in cuffs as an officer stood over him and read him his rights. Once he was finally dragged up to his face and brought face-to-face with the officer in charge of springing the trap, Griff let out an almighty roar of outrage and desperation. Smiling smugly back at him was the pretty boy face of Officer Jason Redstone, who seemed to take great pleasure in his victory. “Looks like this is the end of the road for you, Riot! You’re going away for a long, long time…”
As he was forced into the back of the police vehicle, Griff realised just how badly he had been duped. Convincing anyone that he was actually a respected officer of the law was going to be nearly impossible. He would take the fall for a number of local terrorist attacks, including the bombing of his own place of work! There was nothing left for him to do other than break down into sobs and wonder how he could have been reduced to nothing more than a dumb thug with an endless urge to lash out and destroy. I don’t deserve this, he thought desperately as he looked out of the window of the cruiser at all the jeering faces. The public who had once adored him now utterly despised him and there was no chance of redeeming himself in their eyes. If only they knew…
Unfortunately for the former Jason Redstone, nobody would ever find out that he had been replaced, or who was really responsible for the police station bombing. Riot and her gang would continue on in secret, eventually moving to a larger city to create even more chaos, while Officer Redstone made local headlines by coming out as a gay man and becoming a rolemodel for local LGBTQ+ teens. The article had eventually ended up in the hands of one Griff Benson during recreational time at the prison facility he was locked up in, and it had sent him into such a rage that he’d started a brawl and ended up getting a week in solitary confinement!
Comments
Henry Cavanaugh
Thank you so much! It was fun to venture into some new genre territory.
Ninjakeyblder
Well done! Really built a nice world of conspiracy and still such a hot concept!
