Shaman - the Awakening (3 page)

“Look, mister; we have to set some ground rules while at the office. You can't be looking at me that way around the others.”

“Looking what way?” I inquired, admiring her beauty and smiling.

“The same one you have on your face now,” she replied.

Then she walked over to me. She slowly and sensually ran her hands up my legs and wedged herself between my thighs while I was still seated at the desk. Then she kissed me on the mouth.

“Oh, that look,” I responded after the kiss, then kissed her in return and replied, “You were saying something about the rules of the office?”

“Never mind,” she stated as we continued to kiss.

“Wow,” she exclaimed, and then added, “Merry Christmas Chris.”

“Merry Christmas, Dianna.”

“You left your gift at my house this morning,” she said.

“I thought you were my gift,” I replied.

“Now, I can really get used to that. You keep on saying the right things and you won't be able to get rid of me,” she said while looking me in the eyes.

“Did you enjoy my gift to you?” I inquired.

“I thought we would open them together when we return,” she replied.

“Sounds like a good idea,” I retorted.

Dianna walked back to the door at that point, unlocked it and said, “I'll make sure to put on a red bow the next time, and have you unwrap me.”

I loved seeing her walking away as much as I enjoyed seeing her coming. She had the sexiest walk, or maybe she just had a very sexy ass; either way, I loved it.

I went to the computer to check my emails before departing, and discovered Dr. Green had sent me an email thanking me for the gift, but stating that she couldn't accept it. I knew I was going to hear some squabble over the gift, but we'd talk more about it when I returned. I didn't get a chance to open the gift she gave me, but I was curious to see what it was. Dianna's surprising interest and visits had engulfed me at the time. I sent Dr. Green an email, thanking her for the gift, but didn't respond to the aforementioned gift returning.

Albuquerque is considered the Crossroads of New Mexico. Most of the business going to and from New Mexico goes through Albuquerque. It is situated in the center of the state and is actually at the intersection of Highway 25 and Highway 40; its two major interstates. Albuquerque has been considered the Crossroads in mystic legends since the days of route 66, which ran through the city. Even Bugs Bunny references Albuquerque as the crossroads in the cartoons. It has always been a place of mystery and the unknown, from UFO sightings and landings to witchcraft and mysticism. The Crossroads is the place where the mystical and the underworld meet or perhaps intersect the world in which we live in. It is the place where legend says you can cross over into another dimension, and creatures from there can come in for a visit.

We landed at the Albuquerque International Sunport, Bernalillo County, New Mexico, a little after 1300 hours Mountain Time. It took us 4 hours of flight time to reach Albuquerque, but due to Mountain Time being two hours behind Eastern Standard Time, we actually gained two hours for the investigation. Every minute was crucial, since we were on a countdown until what was expected to be the next abduction.

The weather in Albuquerque was sunny, with a mild temperature of 64 degrees. This was a gladly expected warm welcome compared to the bitter cold and snowy winter of D.C. that we had left behind. Albuquerque is the epicenter of technology and business for the state of New Mexico. It is located in the center of the state, nestled within the Rio Grande Valley amongst the Sandia Mountain Range, with the Rio Grande running through the city. It is the largest city in New Mexico.

We rented three Chevrolet Transverse SUV's at the airport for the team pairings. After we checked into the Hilton Garden Inn Hotel, we immediately went to work. Our first stop was to make contact with the FBI Headquarters in downtown Albuquerque. It was located at 4200 Luecking Park Ave NE, Albuquerque, NM 87107. This was only to acquaint ourselves with the powers that be, and hierarchy for the state's investigative branch. Then it was off to the Satellite Office in Bernalillo at 505 South Main Street. That is where we would set up shop and establish a functioning work area within their offices.

When we arrived at the Bernalillo Satellite Office, it was like most of our receptions. There were mixed emotions about our arrival and our taking over the cases. The FBI is a very competitive organization. We all work towards a common goal, but that doesn't mean it's devoid of egos and temperament. It all came down to this simple premise; we were the Special Task Force Unit from Washington, D.C., flying in on a private jet to fix the problems that the local bureau couldn't. This wasn't well received by many offices and jurisdictions, but some welcomed the assistance and looked forward to our arrival.

The Special Agent in Charge of the Bernalillo office was Agent Alonzo Ortega. He was a native of New Mexico and filled with the knowledge and history of the State and its surroundings. He had been the lead for 7 years over the satellite office, and was a very good agent. The decision to send us wasn't of his volition, or their main office in Albuquerque. The decision came down from D.C., where most of the major decisions are made. The satellite office wasn't that big, as to be expected, but they already had a conference area with several desk and other office items waiting for us. Like the other jurisdictions, they were going to assist and make us as comfortable as possible, but it didn't mean they liked it. Or us.

Ortega appeared to be a pleasant man. He welcomed us and showed us around the facility. They had a small building with two floors and several vehicles at their disposal. They were mostly 4X4 vehicles, due to the desert and mountain terrain which surrounded Albuquerque. He wore a suit and tie with cowboy boots. There were only fifteen agents at this location, including the Special Agent in Charge, and they had to cover 8 counties. That was 1.875 agents per county. They were grossly undermanned in a border state, with bandits and smugglers at the gates.

You would think they would have loved the assistance, but it was just like the other jurisdictions. Most of the agents were polite, but not over-eagerly friendly. They wouldn't be inviting us to lunch or dinner anytime soon, but we were used to it by now. I guess that's why the team is so close. The rest of the Bernalillo agents wore regular shirts, unbuttoned, or polo shirts with casual or khaki pants. They wore an assortment of boots from cowboy to Timberland. They weren't dressed in the bureaucratic garb as seen at the main field offices of major cities. I felt right at home.

“So, Agent Weiss, all the records and files are there on the conference table, and if you require any additional support or assistance from us, please let me know,” Agent Ortega stated.

“Yes, we're going to need at least two agents to escort us in the field,” Agent Weiss informed him.

“OK, I'll give you Agent Gracie Mullins and Agent Trace Burkhart,” Ortega replied.

“Thank you very much, Agent Ortega. That will be all for now,” Weiss stated, then turned his attention towards us. He was always thinking steps ahead.

“OK guys, you have your assignments. Now let's get to work,” Weiss commanded in a medium soft tone.

Agent Gracie Mullins was assigned to escort Dianna and me. She didn't appear to be perturbed about us taking over the case. In fact, she was enthused to be working with us. She had only been with the Bernalillo Office for a year, and still felt allied with D.C.

“Merry Christmas. I've heard a lot of good things about what you guys are doing with the Task Force. A couple of friends I graduated Quantico with are still in D.C., and I asked them about you. They said your SAC is a genius, and that you have a flawless record for solving cases. They also said that your department utilizes unconventional methods to solve the unsolvable. I was hoping I would get this chance to work with you,” Agent Mullins said with a smile that could light up a room.

Dianna looked at me, and started smiling. Agent Mullins was displaying all the attributes and characteristics of a rookie astonished by the hype of our reputation. We had seen it all before, but it never affected us or changed or demeanor towards the job. We didn't get into all the awards and accolades that were attributed to doing a good job. They were only distractions, and our team looked beyond it.

“Thank you, Agent Mullins. It's a pleasure working with you as well. Can you take us to the latest victim's residence?” I inquired.

“Sure thing,” she replied.

On the way to the home, Agent Mullins briefed us on her while in the car. Everything she stated was already in the reports that we read, but she was trying to be helpful.

“Melissa Sykes was the latest of the four abductees that we know of. She is a waitress on the evening shift at The Diners. She got off at 2300 Mountain Time and hasn't been seen since. They interviewed her relations and coworkers, but everyone had an alibi, and no motive for killing her. Her car was parked at the Diner for days. There were no signs of a struggle, and no one saw anything at the Diner. They didn't have any outside cameras either,” Agent Mullins said.

“We'll go there after we visit her home,” Dianna replied.

Task force protocol dictated we begin at the end. We always started with the latest victim and worked our way backward. This was done for several reasons. The first reason was that the last crime or crime scene was the freshest and most memorable for witnesses, and therefore best for collecting evidence and clues.

The second reason, is that in most serial cases, the earlier victims' chances of survival were minimal compared to the latest. Serial killers were work towards a goal, and each crime represents a sort of rehearsal which was repeated in hopes of achieving the perfect effect. The killer strived to over repeated attempts to realize his goal, and correct wrongs. Serial killers were usually driven by the needs for sex and control, with a consistent evolving signature present in each murder. The further back in time the crime took place, the less likelihood there was of finding survivors. The reason why this subject must have been abducting others was that the previous victims had expired, or were of no more use.

The third reason for working backwards in time was that in the case of serial murders, if you could solve the latest abduction and stop the killings, the murderer would usually lead authorities to information on the other victims. Sometimes they liked to savor their killings and keep it interesting by giving out the details sparingly.

The fourth reason was because of my special abilities. I couldn't use dreamscape with the dead, I could only see through the eyes of the living. I couldn't see through the eyes of someone who had passed away. There were psychics and mediums who did communicate with the dead, but that wasn't a part of my gift.

Serial killers' motives fall under four categories; Visionary, Mission Oriented, Hedonistic and Power/ Control. The visionary killer believes he is someone else when he commits murder. He believes he is driven by a supernatural force; the Devil or God. The Missionary killer is on a mission. He believes he is correcting the wrongs of the world by getting rid of unwanted or deviant persons. The Hedonistic killer is a thrill seeker and gets an endorphin rush from killing. He receives pleasure from killing and suffering. This type of killer has three subcategories; thrill driven, lust (sexual) and comfort (profit/gains). The Power/ Control killer wants to impose his will over the victims and control them.

We drove for several miles until we came to Melissa Sykes' home. She lived in a one bedroom garden apartment. The resident manager let us into the apartment, and then departed. There was still police tape on the door, and a cat waiting outside. It ran in once the door was opened. The local authorities hadn't bothered to take Melissa's calico to a shelter.

We began looking through the apartment. Although it had already been searched thoroughly by the local officers, I had to get a feel of the place. I had to make a connection between myself and Melissa. I had to touch her personal items and get a feel for her; the more personal the better. I don't mean rummaging through her underwear drawers, but items like letters she wrote, a diary or anything of that nature.

Agent Mullins followed Dianna around when we first began our sweep of the area. I attempted to emulate Melissa's actions in the apartment by touching everything in sight. I went to the kitchen where the cat was waiting by its bowl, attempting to draw my attention towards it by meowing. It was hungry and probably hadn't eaten since its master's abduction.

I touched everything as I made my way into the room. I opened the cabinets, looking for the cat food. I searched the counter drawers for a can opener to open the cat food, and then fed the hungry calico. Gracie entered the kitchen at that point, and discovered what I was doing.

“Aww, that's so sweet,” she stated, smiling at me. She apparently had a soft spot for animals. I wasn't a cat person, but I knew this would be something that Melissa would do every day. This would be an excellent connection.

Afterwards, I made my way around the apartment, touching everything in sight. I opened the refrigerator. Although the electricity was still on, the food was spoiled and moldy. It had been several weeks since Melissa's disappearance on December 3rd. I opened and closed the microwave oven, turned on the faucet to the sink, and washed my hands.

Melissa was very neat and clean. There were no dirty dishes in the basin. I opened the dishwasher and the few bowls and cups in there were garbage free. This was something I practiced as well. I rinsed all the garbage off the dishes before placing them into the dishwasher. This was a way of protecting your dishwasher from breeding or harboring bacteria and mold odors from rotten and spoiled food. She also utilized the garbage disposal, as I did, instead of the trash can for the disposal of all food items, because neither the trash nor the house smelled like garbage. There was the odor of the kitty litter that needed changing, but even that was tolerable.

I departed the kitchen area and met Dianna in the bedroom, Gracie on my heels. She didn't ask a lot of questions during our sweep, only pertinent and integral ones pertaining to the case. She must have been an excellent student in school.

“They didn't leave much correspondence. There are no bills, letters or magazines. There are some clothes left behind in the drawers and in the walk-in closet,” Dianna said.

“We have all those items back at the Office,” Agent Mullins replied as I looked around the bedroom and touched everything, as I did in the other areas.

“I think I have everything I need,” I informed Dianna and Gracie, then went to the kitchen, picked up the calico and departed.

We were going to drop the cat off at the shelter, but Gracie agreed to care for her, so it traveled with us to the diner where Melissa worked. I kept it in my lap, petting it to deepen my connection with Melissa for dreamscaping while in the vehicle.
I wonder how long it will take Agent Mullins to enquire about my special skill set.

Not long, as it turned out. She spoke before we left the car. “So, what exactly do you do? I was informed that the teams in your department each have consultants with special abilities. At first I thought it was `the brain', but it's you, isn't it?” she asked me.

“Who is `the brain'?” I retorted in a sarcastic voice filled with laughter.

“Oh, you guys don't know your nicknames?” Gracie asked, giggling.

“Yeah, I've heard it. It's what they call Steven,” Dianna interjected with a discontented frown. Then she further stated, “They have names for all of us. It helps them sleep a little better and accept their own shortcomings, by calling us names and labeling us.”

“I'm sorry if I offended you,” Agent Mullins replied, her eyes cast down into her lap. “I didn't mean any harm. It was just something I heard when I called up Quantico. No one down here refers to you that way. In fact, we're so overwhelmed we hardly even have time to read our bulletins, let alone gossip. Hey, I get it! You guys are the best at what you do, so there's going to be some jealous people, but we are glad you're here.”