Crow - The Awakening

by Michael J. Vanecek

"Cool. I'll give you a ride then." They emerged from the forest onto a fire road and walked up to an old pickup truck that reminded him of his godfather's truck. The ride out of the forest was jerky and bumpy and Steven had to hold on tightly, but it wasn't long until they pulled out onto a gravel road, then finally onto a paved road and headed to town.

  His little shop was a workshop at the end of his driveway in an older neighborhood of Seattle. Steven noted the sign on the door for his business, and as they entered he was assailed with a cornucopia of scents. It was almost dizzying. Herbs were hanging from the wall, packed in jars on shelves, and laid out on screens to dry. There were also large bins of various concoctions of herbs as well as rows of smaller bottles and essential oils. Steven looked around in awe. Sally's medicine pantry didn't hold a candle to this shop.

  "Wow. This is just... wow." Steven looked around.

  "I've spent years putting this all together. Everything has medicinal value. Virtually all vegetables - broccoli, tomatoes. Even hot peppers." He pointed to a string of dried chili peppers. "But I've collected the most natural and potent herbs I could collect or grow. Powerful stuff."

  "I've mainly focused on mushrooms and stuff. I had no idea..." He walked around, engrossed by the diversity. With a diet like his, he had little need for medicines, but from what Philip told him, his diet was probably why.

  Philip occupied himself with unloading his bag into trays to process later when some people walked in.

  "I think you have customers, Philip." Steven pointed, only to be moved to the side rudely.

  "Hey, what are you doing here?" Philip walked out of the back. "I've complied with everything you asked me to."

  "I'm sorry, sir, but it's been determined that you are selling medicine without a license," a stern looking woman told him.

  "They're just herbs," Steven interjected. He suddenly felt that his chances of getting that last ingredient was at risk. Police officers filed into the small building with their weapons drawn as the woman gave him a withering stare, then turned her attention back to Philip. Steven was stunned. A raid...now...as if the man was some sort of rabid murderer? "What do you think he's going to do? Hit you with a mushroom?" Steven said, indignant.

  "You've got to be kidding me," Philip said as one of the officers cuffed his hands behind his back. "I'm not selling drugs or anything. Just herbs. You can't do this."

  The woman turned her attention to Steven and his bag of mushrooms and she pointed to him. Someone behind him suddenly grabbed his arms and pulled them back and put on cuffs before he could react. His bag was removed and pockets searched. "Hey, what are you doing?"

  "We need you to come with us." The officer pulled him out of the shop and pushed him up against the car as another officer searched him more thoroughly and emptied his pockets and put them into a large bag.

  "I haven't done anything. What are you arresting me for?" Steven was incredulous, looking around. This was not how he planned to end his day.

  "You're not under arrest just yet. We are detaining you for questioning," the woman explained as he was stuffed into the back seat of the squad car. Philip was in another car and they looked at each other. He mouthed, "Sorry," as the car pulled away.

  The interrogation room was little more than a large closet. There was a table bolted to the floor, a chair, and a plastic cup of water on the table. It was a little chilly in there, the lighting was greenish, and one of the fluorescent lights was flickering. Steven looked around wondering how much of this was on purpose to make him uncomfortable, and how much was just outright neglect. He figured the whole thing was to affect him psychologically. He frowned, wondering just what they expected from him.

  A middle aged man wearing an inexpensive suit and tie walked in with a folder and sat down, reviewing the contents. He circled some items with a pen while Steven waited. "Okay, it looks like your ID checks out," he said circling another item on one of the pages. "Steven Crow, right?"

  Steven nodded.

  "Thirsty?" He pointed at the cup.

  Steven shook his head.

  The man looked at him for a second. The air was dehumidified and very dry. Usually that made stressed and uncomfortable suspects thirsty, which made it easier for them to collect DNA. "Fine. Okay. I just need to ask you a few questions about your relationship with Mr. Colin." He looked at the page again and raised an eyebrow. "I never noticed that before. Philip Colin." He grinned and shook his head as if to some internal joke. "Okay..."

  "I don't have a relationship with Philip," Steven insisted.

  "Apparently you did. You were at his home and had a bag full of his product."

  "Those were my mushrooms. I collected them and came across Philip out there. He..." Steven hesitated. Psychoactive mushrooms weren't exactly on the approved list, "...wanted to show me his setup. I like herbs."

  "What were the mushrooms for?" The man checked off something on the page.

  "Culinary. I can give you a list of excellent recipes if you want," Steven offered. "The ones I had would be great sautéed and baked with fish."

  "What ailment are you trying to treat?" the investigator pushed on.

  "I'm not sick. Do I look sick?" Steven responded.

  He leaned back and looked at Steven. "So you're selling him mushrooms?"

  "If he were cooking up a steak, I'd happily give him some mushrooms," Steven insisted. Remembering what they said about licensing and medicine, he decided to stick with the culinary angle. "What's he supposed to have done?"

  The investigator didn't answer as he continued. "What's the value of those mushrooms?"

  "What mushrooms?"

  "The ones in your bag." The investigator looked irritated for a second, but regained his monotone composure.

  "I've never purchased mushrooms before. I don't know." Steven knew very well since he helped his godfather with his mushroom sales but also knew a trap when he saw one. "Are we almost done?"

  "Just needing to verify some facts first. Are you feeling okay? You look a little tired." The investigator smiled amicably as he picked up his own glass of water and took a deep drink.

  "I feel peachy," Steven responded dryly.

  "Where do you work?" The investigator asked.

  "I'm a minor. I don't work." Steven couldn't answer that with a more acerbic tone, remembering the unending frustration that little fact has caused him.

  "What do you do?" The man flipped through some pages.

  "I'm a student. I just graduated and am about to register for postgraduate classes," Steven lied.

  The investigator looked up sharply trying to see if Steven was joking.

  "Yeah, I get that a lot. I finished early. Big deal." Steven shrugged his shoulders.

  "What do you do for extra cash?" the investigator pried.

  "I repair computers sometimes," Steven answered. "If you have a trojan or anything, give me a call."

  The man looked at the final page of questions, tapping his pen, then closed up the file and left the room. Steven sat there wondering how much longer he was going to have to stay there.

  The woman came in and handed Steven a bag. "I'm sorry to have held you but we had to clear some things up."

  Steven accepted his bag and looked in it. His bag of mushrooms was empty. "My mushrooms?"

  "We're keeping those for testing," she answered curtly.

  "Sure. Well, they are great with butter and oregano," Steven quipped, irritated to have a day's collection swiped like that. She rolled her eyes and stepped aside as Steven continued while walking out. "I like them with scrambled eggs, too. Or shredded as a garnish for grilled fish. They're also good in a sauce with sautéed onions and just a sprinkling of Burgundy."

  "Have a nice day, sir." The woman walked off before Steven could continue any more. He fought the temptation to follow her and regale her with more ideas of cooking with mushrooms. He was furious that his had been stolen like that and wanted some sort of payback.

  Sighing, he decided not to push it. Ste
ven looked around, a little lost. He saw the front doors and started walking toward them when he heard someone call his name. He was tempted to just keep walking but the voice sounded familiar. Looking around, he saw a tall young man in his early twenties and immediately recognized him. "Brandon?"

  Chapter 14

  Laurence fidgeted as he sat at the long table across from his boss who was reviewing a tablet. He hated these reviews. It reminded him that he really wasn't the one in control. He wasn't unaccustomed to the debriefing, but he felt more on top of things when he was out in the field where he belonged.

  "This kid is proving to be a bit of a nuisance," Jacob said as he reviewed the data on the tablet, not really expecting a response.

  "Yes, sir," Laurence answered. "He's got help but we haven't ascertained who yet."

  "Who is he hiding from?" Jacob Bradly asked himself as much as Laurence as he pondered over Laurence's reports.

  "He was being chased by the non-terrestrials," Laurence answered. Jacob looked at him over his reading glasses, and Laurence corrected himself. "That is just a lead we are following. We really don't know yet."

  "Nail that down. No assumptions. I want to know exactly what they want with him and who this boy is. Why is he so important?" Jacob responded curtly. Laurence nodded, remaining silent. Jacob continued reviewing the reports. "I see a breakdown in discipline at the stakeout."

  "That has been rectified, sir." Laurence was extremely embarrassed at his team being played so easily and really loathed having to give his boss excuses as a result. He was not normally an excuses type of person. "I'm still waiting on results from the lab."

  Jacob looked at him briefly then back at the tablet. "We'll relay any pertinent data if it applies to your situation," he said curtly.

  "How can it not? We were compromised!" Laurence leaned forward, angry that Jacob would blow him off like that. He needed to know and didn't need someone else deciding what he needed to know, or not, with regards to his people and his mission. Jacob didn't respond and Laurence leaned back, fuming. Of course, Jacob was his boss, but he still hated being treated like some slack-jawed lackey.

  "Are you done now?" Jacob sat there looking at Laurence. Laurence bit his cheek and looked away. Jacob took that as an affirmative. "We need to operate under the possibility that our moves are being observed," Jacob said calmly as he put the tablet down. Laurence looked to the side, hating the logic of it. But he had to admit, anyone could be part of the leak that led to their compromise. Even he couldn't be trusted until they knew for sure. The doubt infuriated him. It was something else that got in the way of his mission. "The boy is definitely not alone," Jacob continued. "He's hiding and he's being hidden, and whoever is hiding him knows exactly what we are doing, when, and where." He held up his hands as he looked back down at the tablet. "They knew our codes for recall? Really?"

  "But how could it be a mole?" Laurence was incredulous. He had thought the same thing and pondered on the ramifications of that possibility. It just didn't make sense to him how one could have infiltrated their ranks. Their Order had not recruited for over six hundred years and was more a family operation than anything else. He was born into it like every other agent. The idea of a betrayal from within the ranks was preposterous to him. Everyone was fanatically dedicated and those that weren't were arbitrarily culled. There were no disgruntled employees in the ranks of the organization because they didn't live long enough to become a problem.

  "We need to keep that option on the table. And the possibility that other means are being employed to monitor our activities." Jacob leaned forward, steepling his fingers on the table contemplatively. "It's no longer just a grab and bag job."

  "We've been operating under that idea for some time already," Laurence explained. The presence of aliens had ratcheted things up immeasurably and expanded the parameters of the mission significantly. Laurence hoped to capture one of the aliens and bring it back as much as he wanted to collect Steven. Such a prize would have paramount value to the Order, as well as boost Laurence's own standing amongst his peers.

  "Perhaps it's time for some fresh blood. I'm going to recommend that you be reassigned." Jacob stood up.

  "Wait. Please, I need to see this through," Laurence pleaded. He felt he was too close to a resolution to have this mission pulled away from him.

  "That's the problem. You've lost perspective and it's become personal." Jacob looked at him. "We can't afford for things to become personal, Laurence. Mistakes are made and things get very sloppy."

  An assistant entered the room and whispered something to Jacob. Jacob looked at the assistant then down at the floor, pursing his lips. "We'll table the reassignment idea for now. It seems that Mr. Crow has gotten himself detained." Jacob looked at Laurence who stood up quickly. "What assets do you have in the area?"

  "I have three collection teams ready to go." Laurence pulled out his phone and made a phone call. Then another. And a third. He stood there staring at his phone for a moment. "None are functional."

  "Come again?" Jacob raised an eyebrow.

  "One has suffered a catastrophic fire at the safe house, the other has had all the tires slashed on all their vehicles, and the third has been sent outside of Seattle and are over two hours away." Laurence looked up, dumbfounded. "Who is doing this?"

  "I'm bringing in a team to investigate that. You get to Seattle now and get that kid." Jacob looked highly irritated as he walked out of the room. Laurence put his phone away and headed to the fleet garage feeling decidedly deflated. Things were spiraling out of control.

  Brandon smiled widely as he ran up to Steven and gave him a big bear hug. "Dude, it's been forever!"

  "I never thought I'd bump into you here, Brandon! I thought you were still in school!" Steven exclaimed. Steven was rather shocked that he had all but forgotten about Brandon and the mansion. He could have stayed there rather than sleeping in the tree.

  "I am. I'm interning here while I finish my criminology degree," Brandon said, proudly waving back at the police station. He was still too young to get a position in the FBI where he was hoping to make a career, much to the chagrin of his very wealthy parents, but he was doing everything he could to immerse himself in the law enforcement and investigative environment as early as possible.

  "Man, that is so cool." Steven was happy for his friend. Brandon had changed his career ideas a few times before settling on law enforcement. His parents would have preferred that he become a lawyer like them, or go into real estate or something less risky. Of course, they themselves had incurred their own risk by earning the ire of the numerous drug cartels through their work in the courts, so it's not an entirely passive profession. Still, Brandon was intent on getting a more hands on position in law than his parents were comfortable with.

  "So, what are you doing here?" Brandon walked with Steven toward the door, smirking at Steven. He wondered when Steven's computer exploits would get him in trouble.

  "Wrong place at the wrong time. I think they cleared me, though." Steven gave a lopsided grin, hoping that he was actually cleared. He was very uncomfortable being under the microscope and was eager to return to the anonymity of his life.

  "You're not still hacking computers, are you?" Brandon looked at him sideways.

  "It wasn't for that. I was trying to find ingredients for that tea I had been drinking and the seller didn't have a medical license or something and they just grabbed us all and brought us here, I guess," Steven explained. "I think they were fishing for more evidence to apply against that fella. He's just a herbalist. Can you believe that?"

  "No comment, since they're my bosses. But everyone has an ax to grind at one time or another in this profession," Brandon said in a hushed tone. "It just goes with the territory."

  "I just wish they'd use that ax on real bad people instead of people like me and Philip." Steven frowned.

  Brandon shrugged as he stood with him outside. "Some things aren't as clear cut as that, Steven. But I guess every job is goi
ng to have its flaws. So, where you going?" Brandon pulled his keys out and jingled them, grinning.

  "Oh, a ride would be so nice about now." Steven couldn't wait to get back home and end this horrible day. "I was going to have to sit at that trashed out bus stop." Steven pointed. It was definitely in need of repair and the bench was broken, apparently from a wreck there.

  "Great. I need to go get something real quick and I'll bring the car around. You stay right here." Brandon jogged off around the building and entered through another door, leaving Steven by himself to wait near the entrance. Suddenly feeling self conscious, he nodded at people as they noticed him standing there, hoping they'd just walk on by.

  Suddenly, a lady with pretty wavy brunette hair dropped a large folder of papers by the entrance and Steven instinctively knelt down to help her pick them up, almost tripping a man who was hurrying to get into the building. He skirted past Steven and walked in grumbling something, and Steven stood up while the lady thanked him effervescently and gave him a hug. She smiled prettily at him and winked, then quickly walked off to her waiting ride before Steven could respond. He waved at her, a little shocked, then saw Brandon pull up with his car and walked out to meet him.

  Laurence rushed into the police station after nearly tripping over someone at the entrance and went up to the front desk, flashing a badge. "I'm here to question one of your detainees."

  "Name please?" The clerk went to the computer and logged in.

  "Steven Crow." Laurence looked around the reception area, hoping he hadn't missed Steven.

  "He's been cleared and released already." The officer looked up.

  "What? How long ago?" Laurence asked, frowning and craning his neck to look at the display.

  "He was cleared about fifteen minutes ago and released shortly after that. Would you like to talk to the officer in charge of that investigation?"

  "Hold that thought." Laurence ran to the door and looked outside. He went and looked out in the parking lot. There were a few people but none of them stood out as Steven. He pulled out his phone and turned, walking back in just as Brandon's car pulled away and exited the parking lot.