RB 01 Through Flesh & Bone

by Frederick S dela Cruz

  She paused to wait for their reaction to her comment. Etelson raised her head and slowly nodded. Stevens put his hand under his chin, listening closely to her words.

  Finally, Dr. Skramstad remarked, “How amazing and wonderful it is to behold. Yes?”

  Stevens quickly said, “Oh, yes. I never thought we’d be seeing something like this.”

  “I’m just amazed. Stunned,” Etelson said shaking her head. “And this is from what century?”

  Dr. Skramstad replied, “It is believed that this was created during the king’s reign between 605 BC and 562 BC. And possibly more closely sometime after his siege of the city Tyre which ended in 572 BC.

  Stevens turned to Etelson and whispered, “This symbol has been around that long?” He asked the director, “So, do you believe this circular symbol is a reference to these two horsemen themselves and not as a reference to either side of this battle being depicted? I mean: could this symbol be a reference to a group or a tribe and not to the two individuals themselves?”

  “Ah, yes,” the director nodded, “That is an interesting question. See, however, how near the symbols are to the horsemen. More precisely, see how closely the symbols are associated with the horsemen. Also, these symbols are not on flags or crests or soldiers’ shields. Thus, from this artwork, it would be untenable to conclude that the symbols are references to groups or tribes and such.” She bobbed her head as she finished the sentence. “Ah, yes,” she said again, “So, that reminds me of the second item I wished to show you.” She took the hardbound book from under her arm and held it in front of her. Then, she split open the book, in between the pages where she had placed her paper bookmark.

  Agent Etelson and Stevens moved to stand at either side of her.

  She began to narrate, “This is a book of ancient Asian art. We do not have any of these artworks currently in the museum, but fortunately,” she smiled, turning her head to both agents, “we do have this book.

  “On the left page, we see the theme of a typical Asian work of art in which nature is the focal point and if man is present, he is diminished. That is, see how large and tall the bamboo is in the thick bamboo forest. See how the river running through it along the bottom catches your eye. And now see how diminutive the man and woman are as they stand beside the river compared to whole scenery. If you were not looking for the man and woman, it is possible that you would have missed them.

  “However, here’s the contradiction: at the upper left sits a man in a white robe, and he is maybe three or four times the size of the man and woman below. His dark hair is long and pulled back. He sits crossed-legged almost at the top of a mountain, among the clouds. Here again is someone elevated above all else. If he were not just below the peak of the mountain, he would be elevated above nature itself.”

  Her finger moved to point at the man on the mountain. “Now, his left hand is gesturing across the way, and his arm is fully extended in front of him. And here we see your symbol once more on the part of the robe draping down from his left arm, reaching all the way down to his crossed legs.” She added, “Here, Agent Stevens, it is unknown whether this is a family crest or a symbol relating only to the man himself.”

  Stevens nodded.

  She continued, “It is believed that this painting is only half of the completed work. This piece is framed as one, yes. But see again the man is gesturing across the way from him. It begs the question, to what or to whom is he gesturing? I would say that this painting has to be a pair: one side for the man on the left and another - I venture to guess - for possibly a man on the right. Tradition says,” the director said, as she looked up once again to address the agents through her large rounded lenses, “that Kublai Khan, grandson of Genghis Khan, in the thirteenth century had this painting created, as a gift for a high ranking official or commander. But it is unknown if the man we see at the upper left is that official or commander. Neither is it known whether the right half - that we believe is missing - depicts that particular person.” She ended with a giggle, “We may never know.”

  “These are just amazing, Doctor,” Etelson remarked. “Would you mind if we took a picture of that page in the book and this granite etching also?” She withdrew her phone cell phone from her coat pocket.

  “Oh, certainly not. Here. Let me hold this up for you,” the director answered as she propped up the book.

  Etelson began taking pictures with her phone, and Stevens questioned, “Dr. Skramstad, is there any other time in history this symbol appears?”

  “In antiquity, no. There have been so much art and architecture lost over the centuries. And in modern times, I know of no other - except for the case you’re currently investigating and its relation you spoke about to World War II.”

  Etelson finished her picture-taking, and as she put her phone back in her pocket, she asked, “Could you speculate as to why maybe someone is resurrecting this symbol today? Is there any historic significance to this symbol that could be applied today?”

  “Hmm,” the director pondered. “Other than what I’ve told you…I can’t venture to say.” But then, she chuckled and nodded, “It’s quite fascinating that this symbol is associated with great kings and great leaders, during their times of wars and global conquests. And if we carry that context of war and conquest and associate it with the case you’re investigating, it would be both quite intriguing and unnerving because of its possible epic proportions.”

  * * * * * * *

  At the same moment in which Agents Etelson and Stevens spoke with Dr. Skramstad, the longhaired goateed man sat inside Trace Restaurant. He finished sliding his credit card into the bill and folded it over for Kim to pick up. Then, he took a drink from the glass of water, wiped his mouth with the paper napkin, and then set it down on top of the table.

  With nothing really on his mind, his movements were mechanical, as he sat in one of the booths along the large-windowed walls. Then, as he did often, he stared for a long time outside at Black Mountain, thinking of just absolutely nothing.

  There were so many things occurring in such a short time. He had already spent many hours just trying to understand what was happening to him and, more importantly, where things would lead him. Deciding just to hang on and do his best, until more of his questions get answered, he wanted to take a few moments away from it all. So now, he didn’t want to think of anything more.

  But in the back of his mind, something lingered. He would be the one to choose the next victim, the hooded man told him. Since the hooded man said he could decide who that person was, even without knowing, it made him feel unsettled.

  Moments later, Katy came by. Standing in front of him, at the edge of the table, she gave him a friendly, “Hello, there,” then said, “Kim’s on her break but I can take care of your tab for ya.” Then, Katy looked at the glass on his table and picked up the tab to look at it. “Huh, no Mule today? Just a glass of water? That’s gotta be a first, right?” she asked with a grin.

  He smiled back, “Yeah, trying something new today…rediscovering water. The taste is kinda weird. But give me some time, and I just might get used to it.”

  Katy laughed, “I think it’s overrated. But hey, we all pick our poison.” She added, “I’ll be right back.”

  “Ok. Thanks.” After Katy left, he stared out the window again.

  At the host’s podium, near the entrance, a new female employee greeted a customer. “Table for one?” she asked.

  The customer smiled and nodded his head.

  The breeze outside was calm and a bit on the warm side, not an atypical day for a November in San Diego. None of the shrubbery on Black Mountain moved. He then focused his attention from the mountain to back inside, on a TV screen, hanging directly up and in front of him. The sports announcer was analyzing the up-coming Thanksgiving Day game between the San Diego Chargers and the San Francisco Forty Niners. It kept his attention.

  The new hostess led the customer, who had just arrived, across the restaurant. The man wore a blac
k baseball cap and under it was long blond hair that reached almost to his shoulders. It was tied into a short ponytail using a thin red rubber band. The man had a slender build, wearing blue jeans and a white pullover shirt with long sleeves. Dark sunglasses covered his eyes, and the skin on his face was particularly light and smooth.

  At the bar, Katy had just finished serving someone a glass of beer. Then, she turned her attention to the register, to run the goateed man’s tab.

  The hostess walked the new customer to the booth immediately behind the goateed man, and then she stopped and asked the customer, “Is this ok?”

  The man smiled and nodded, and then slid down into the booth.

  “Your server will be right with you,” she said, as she gave him a menu. With that, she turned to head back to the podium to greet other patrons.

  Keeping his sunglasses on, the customer picked up the menu, opened it, and began to scan the items within.

  The goateed man and the blond haired customer sat back-to-back.

  Katy returned and set the tab at the edge of the goateed man’s table.

  “Thanks,” he said. Then, he turned to her and asked, “You girls got any plans for the Charger game?”

  “Yeah!” Katy answered. Her eyes surprisingly widened, and excitement was in her voice. “One of the regulars got season tickets for his family. But they’re going out of town for the holiday. So, he gave me and Kim his tickets! Cool, huh?”

  “Whoa. Nice.”

  “Yeah, a couple of the guys here are going with us. It’s gonna be fun!”

  “Well then, I’m gonna have to try to scope you guys out, while I watch on TV. Where’re you gonna be?”

  “The seats are really good. I think they’re about at the thirty-yard line, maybe ten rows back from field level.”

  The customer behind him tilted his head slightly to the side, attempting to listen closely to their conversation.

  “Oh, those are great seats,” the goateed man smiled, as he signed his name on the bill. “The cameras are bound to pan over you guys. Gonna bring any signs?” He set the pen down on the table and looked up at her.

  “Yeah, the guys are gonna make those D-Fence signs. They’re so dumb,” she giggled. She leaned her hand on the seat in front of him. “They should think of something more original.”

  “Well, having those signs might make it easier for me to spot ya.” Then, he asked, “So, is Paige going with you guys?”

  Katy shook her head, “No, her and Isaac are gonna visit family in Frisco. I’m sure she’ll watch the game on TV over there.” Then, she smiled, “She said her family’s all Niner fans. She’ll be outnumbered.”

  “Think she can hold her own?”

  “Oh, yeah. She’s a tough girl. Isaac gets into the football game too.”

  He laughed, as he stood up to leave, “Yeah, she’ll leave ‘em crying after we win, right?’

  “No doubt,” Katy nodded.

  He and Katy began to walk toward the bar.

  The customer wearing the baseball cap turned his attention back to the menu.

  “Well, you guys are gonna have a great time. I’ll wave at the TV if I see ya,” the goateed man said grinning.

  Katy laughed, “Yeah, it’s gonna be fun. See ya later!”

  As Katy stopped at the bar, he continued on to make his way out of the restaurant. Outside, the Mustang had its top down. He opened the door, got in, and started the engine. Immediately, the CD player started up and continued playing the track it had been on.

  Inside, Katy stopped by the booth of the customer with the black baseball cap and sunglasses. She asked, “Hi, welcome to Trace. How are you doin’ today?”

  He tilted his head up to her, smiled, and said softly, “Just fine, thanks.”

  “Kim will be with you soon. But I can get you a drink in the meantime.” Katy tried to look at him through his sunglass. But then, she found her eyes moving from the sunglasses over to look closely at the skin of his face, his cheeks, and jawline.

  “Just water, please,” he said in a calm almost whispering voice, and then he dropped his head back down to the menu.

  “Sure, no problem.” She thought that she might have gazed at him a little longer than she should have. “I’ll be right back.” Katy made her way back to the bar. After a few steps, she stopped and glanced behind her. The man’s back was facing her, and she noticed his long, blond hair in a ponytail under the baseball cap.

  She thought for a second.

  Oddly, she found herself almost admiring his skin. Its color was very light. It was smooth and lacking any wrinkles whatsoever, almost pristine. She even noticed that the skin around his jaw and neck had no hair whatsoever and probably never had to be shaved.

  She thought, He’s got such nice skin. Then, she said with a bit of playful jealousy, “How do I get skin like that?”

  She pursed her lips, turned her head, and began walking again.

  When she reached the bar, she grabbed a glass, scooped ice into it, and began to fill it with water. She heard the quiet splash of water against the ice. In the background were the muffled sounds of the various TV sets and conversations around her.

  With one hand on her hip, she waited for the glass to fill.

  There was something else about the customer that made her thoughts turn back to him.

  When water filled the glass, she retrieved it from the dispenser.

  Yes, there was something else about him. But she couldn’t quite put her finger on it.

  Chapter 16

  ONE WEEK AGO

  Ms. Tamara Mitsuko Kaneko could feel a warm hand touch her right forearm. Drowsily, she opened her eyes and breathed in deep, to wake herself.

  She was the woman whom Sik had abducted in Los Angeles.

  Late at night, at her hospital room bedside, a kind nurse in her late forties stood wearing scrubs with pastel print. “Hi, sweetie,” the nurse said quietly, “I’m just taking your vitals.”

  Tamara nodded slowly with her eyes half closed.

  As the nurse wrapped the blood pressure cuff around her upper arm and pumped it with air, she said with a smile and a comforting tone, “You have two very strong, very nice police officers outside guarding your door. You’ll be safe with them out there.” With the stethoscope in her ears, she pressed its diaphragm end over the veins of Tamara’s arm.

  There was dead silence in the room.

  The nurse lifted the watch on her wrist up to her eyes, and then slowly released the air from the blood pressure cuff.

  For a few moments, the hiss of the air was the only sound.

  After noting the numbers on a clipboard that lay beside Tamara’s hand, the nurse placed the stethoscope on her patient’s chest, and asked her to breathe in deep several times. Then, the nurse reached for a digital thermometer from her side and pushed it into a sheath. “Gotta take your temperature now, sweetie,” she said.

  Fighting the haze of her drowsiness, Tamara opened her mouth, and then closed it over the thermometer.

  A few seconds passed. The nurse retracted the thermometer and noted the number. Then, she placed her hand on Tamara’s shoulder and asked with a smile, “How’s the pain? Are you doing ok with the meds?”

  Tamara answered meekly, “Yeah…I’m fine.” She breathed a sigh, “But I’m really drowsy.”

  “That’s expected, sweetie. Just relax and you’ll get better soon.”

  Tamara closed her eyes and nodded.

  She felt the nurse pick up the clipboard from the side of her bed and heard her walk out of the room, lightly closing the door behind her.

  She fell asleep once again.

  Ms. Tamara Mitsuko Kaneko could feel a hand touch her right forearm.

  Drowsily, she opened her eyes and breathed in deep, to wake herself.

  The nurse was at her bedside once again. “Hi, sweetie,” she said quietly, “I’m just taking your vitals.”

  Tamara nodded slowly with her eyes half closed. But then, she asked, “Weren’t you ju
st here?”

  The nurse smiled warmly and said, “Sweetie, that was more than five hours ago.”

  Blinking and opening her eyes wide, Tamara said, “Wow, I must really be out of it.” She gingerly shifted her body underneath the bed sheet. Then, her eyes slowly gazed at the nurse’s neck, looking for the stethoscope. Not seeing them, she slowly lowered her gaze down to the side of her bed, to see if the nurse had set them there.

  There was dead silence in the room.

  Tamara sighed and asked, “Did you forget your stuff?”

  The nurse gave her another warm smile and rubbed her hand over Tamara’s forearm.

  As Tamara tilted her head down to look at the nurse’s arm, she groggily said, “Hey, your hand is really cold.”

  Suddenly, the nurse quickly reached over and pressed her cold, heavy hand over Tamara’s mouth and leaned down over it, with her full weight. Her eyes transitioned to a cold emotionless stare.

  Tamara’s eyes awakened in fright. She felt the weight of the hand over her mouth force her jaw down into her windpipe. She struggled to breathe, and in terror, she tried to shift her body to the far side of the bed, in order to pull away.

  The nurse’s other hand clamped down over Tamara’s neck, preventing her from escaping. From that same hand, three crystal-tipped, long, slender tentacles tore through the palm and pierced the skin of Tamara’s neck. The razor-like tips sliced and burrowed through tendons, veins, and muscles, in search for their target. Tunneling through the tissue of Tamara’s lungs, they plunged into her beating heart. Once there, their crystalline tips morphed away and turned into small opened siphons. Immediately, they began to drain Tamara’s blood, intelligently filtering away the impurities of the drugs within.