The Body Hunters (8 page)

 
           "You think every chick is after you." Private 1st class Mason Jones, or Jonesy, drawled sarcastically.

 
          "What does she want with you anyway?" Sergeant James Carpenter the driver asked, adding his two cents to the conversation. "I heard she's hot for her old man back home.
"

 
           "That's right: At home. She's probably got months before she gets to leave. Ain't nothingwrong with a little lovin' till then.
"

 
          "Somebody is gonna kick your 90-pound ass, I swear," Jonesy who was married and had a thing against cheaters said. His wife back home was his heart and soul and the very thought of cheating deeply offended his sensibilities
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           "Hey, Do I have to come back there and separate you two?" Aiden finally said, keeping his ocean blue eyes on the road and the unfriendly faces in the landscape around them. Even though the US military was there for the greater good, there were still some Afghans that didn't appreciate their presence.

 
           "Sorry Sergeant Spam." Huck apologized.

 
           "I asked you not to call me that!" Stone looked at Huck with one raised eyebrow.

 
           Aiden's subordinates had found out about his love for Spam, which was a favorite dish in Hawaii. He'd grown up loving the meat in the can, which his mother had used in a lot of her soul food dishes. Since they wouldn't leave him alone about it
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          "Yeah sure Boss Spam!" Huck was elbowing Jonesy in the ribs while chuckling loudly
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          "Shut it guys! Hold up! I don't like the looks of these civvies!" Aiden noticed that several civilians who had been milling about had quickly vacated the streets and gone into their homes. You could sometimes tell the mercurial moods of the Afghanistan atmosphere by the way the locals behaved. "I need you two to stay frosty. I've got a bad feeling and there's no telling when I might need one of you to man the .50-cal.
"

 
          The .50-cal was the mean looking roof mounted machine gun positioned on top of the Humvee
.

 
          "Sir, yes sir." The two repeated in unison. Now they too were alert to everything that was going on around them
.

 
          "Carpenter, what is that?" Aiden squinted out the driver's side window, the glare from the windshield obscuring his vision
.

 
          Carpenter saw the hooded figure also, his eyes widening in horror. "What the f--
"

 
           His words were cut off as the Humvee was rocked by an explosion from a rocket propelled grenade. The explosive missile hit the vehicle dead center, sending deadly projectiles of shrapnel flying.  Floating through the air like miniature diamonds, shards of glass pelted the marines as the Humvee was knocked off its wheels. The Humvee was flipped on its right side, as it's highly vulnerable underside was peppered with heavy weapons fire. Ready to ignite a spark, highly combustible fuel dripped from the tank and flames danced along the side like demons
.

 
           Even though he was wearing his helmet, Aiden felt like he had been struck in the head with a boulder. His entire body was jolted by the impact. A vice grip of pain held Sergeant Stone's ribs as he coughed up blood. Momentarily deaf and disoriented, he didn't hear the other vehicles in the convoy open fire on the ambushing insurgents. Though his other senses were deadened, his nose worked just fine and he could smell diesel fuel. The cabin started to fill with tendrils of gray smoke. Things just went from bad to horribly worse. Clumsy, bloody fingers fumbled for his safety belt as he called to his squad mates.

 
          "Carpenter, Jones, Owens, sound off!" He coughed; his tongue feeling like it weighed fifty pounds. He had to help them get out and fast! Otherwise this fuel leaking truck would become their coffin
.

 
           Finally freeing himself from the harness, he scrambled around the interior of the vehicle, desperate to save his fellow Marines. "Carpenter!" He shook the driver hoping to shake him into consciousness. The Sergeant's neck was moving loosely on his shoulders. The private's mangled face came into his view, and he could tell that the man was already dead. He cursed aloud. The outer skin incinerated, the entire left side of Carpenter's face was a bloody, gory, mangled mess!

 
           "Get out." Carpenter's corpse uttered,his remaining eye open and focusing on Stone. "You gotta get out. It's not your time.
"

 
           Even though his ears were ringing and he could hear nothing else, the clarity of Carpenter's words was crystal clear. Stone wondered what kind of hell he'd stumbled into. Shaking off the terrifying hallucination, Stone checked the other passengers. One look and he could tell they were also deceased. A ragged sliver of metal had buried itself in Huck's neck. Thick black blood oozed through the wound like oil. Jonesy's eyes were wide open and unseeing, a single bullet wound on the side of his head.

 
          "Ya gotta get out, Boss." Huck gargled, ichor bubbling from his mouth. "Go, go. Get out
.

 
          "Please tell my wife I love her. Please." Jonesy uttered, his dead eyes focused on Aiden
.

 
          Deeply disturbed, he climbed over Carpenter's body, urgently pushing the driver's side door open. After several tries, the door opened on its own filling the interior with harsh sunlight. Strong, friendly arms lifted him out of the death trap and to safety. Hurriedly they hustled him onto a nearby sidewalk. As a field medic checked his vitals and tended to his wounds, his saviors started to go back for the others. The exploding Humvee knocked them all off their feet. The marines had killed the ambushers, but the price had been the lives of three marines
.

 
           Several days later, Sergeant Stone was in a US military hospital in Germany nursing a concussion, a collapsed lung, broken ribs, numerous lacerations and a broken arm. His vision of his deceased comrades kept replaying in his mind, the events rewinding and fast forwarding. He had heard of combat vets having post-traumatic stress disorder, but what he had witnessed seemed nothing like it. Shortly thereafter Stone realized that the head trauma he had suffered had given him a unique special ability. After touching or holding personal objects he was able to communicate with the deceased. His injuries preceded his retirement from military life. He just couldn't and didn't want to continue with the horrors of war.

Aiden Stone decided to join the FBI after his recovery. For fear that they would see him as yet another post traumatic stressed out vet, Aiden kept his newfound abilities to himself. He figured no one would believe him anyway. He had yet to even broach the subject to his family, especially to his father.

 
           The older man ran the family business, Anna's, named after Aiden's deceased mother. He operated the resort restaurant with the help of Aiden's younger sister and her fiancé.  Joe Stone had been trying for years to get his son to come back to Hawaii and join the business, but Aiden had repeatedly turned his father down. He still needed some action and figured the FBI would provide the outlet he needed. Even though he was just a novice with his psychic abilities, Stone discovered that his abilities gave him an edge in the bureau's criminal investigation division. His intuition had brought the close of multiple high profile federal cases and had kept him alive during dangerous situations
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           The voice of the small plane's captain came loud and clear through the speakers. Special Agent Stone halted his ruminations into the past. Grunting he eased his chair upright and stretched. One of the most important lessons he was taught back in basic training was to take advantage of sleep whenever you could. Before starting their investigation he was well rested, alert and ready to spring into action once he touched terra firma. His partner, on the other hand, was still looking nervously out the window.

 
          While Aiden opted for a polo shirt, khakis or jeans for his attire while working in the field, Agent Alejandro Ramirez looked like he had seen a picture of an FBI agent on television and decided to dress the part. He was garbed in a generic navy blue suit and an atrocious bland blue tie. Since his jacket was a size too large and not properly tailored, the baby-faced Alejandro Ramirez looked like a kid who was trying on his dad's clothes. While Aiden was over six feet tall, muscular and physically imposing, Ramirez was short, slightly pudgy and looked like he would have trouble running around the block. The fact that the man looked like he was afraid of his own shadow didn't help matters in the least. Having worked in the Cyber Crimes Division for the past few years, the young agent had just been promoted to field work in the criminal investigations sector. This would be Alejandro's first investigation, and it was a wonder he even passed the physical training in Quantico
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          Thumbing again through the file Johnson had given him during his briefing, Aiden found himself staring at the photos featuring the young woman he had been told to contact if they hit a dead end with the case. There was one photo that he assumed was her FBI headshot. The other two looked to have been taken without her knowledge while she was out in public. To tell the truth, she barely looked like she was of legal age, let alone an FBI agent. She was easy on the eyes, of that there wasn't any doubt. Frustrated with himself for looking at the photos like she was a Playboy centerfold, Aiden shut the file and stashed it in his bag
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           Twenty minutes later the two of them were on the ground outside Dallas-Fort Worth Regional Airport where a stereotypical FBI issue Suburban, or what the agents affectionately called any FBI issued vehicle, a bucar, was waiting for them. They loaded their gear into the back of the dusky SUV before heading toward the Dallas coroner's office with Stone in the driver's seat. Viewing the dead girl's remains would be the first stop in their investigation before visiting the family and investigating witnesses
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           “Marines?"Ramirez asked, indicating the grinning skull and marine logo tattooed on Stone's right bicep
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           Aiden nodded, a little shocked that Ramirez had struck up a conversation. He thought the rookie agent was intimidated by him.

 
           "MARSOC to be exact."He responded
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          Alejandro's eyes widened. The MARSOC, or Marine Corps Forces Special Operations Command, was known as the elite division of the Marines. There were rumors throughout the military that they conducted Black Ops missions for the United States
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           "Damn, bad hombre." Alejandro was awed.

 
           "What about you? You military, Ramirez?
"

 
           "Army."The younger man returned. "I took some shrapnel from an IED. I went back to college and joined the Bureau after I got my Bachelor's. I worked the Cyber Crimes Unit until I was up to par for being a field agent.
"

 
           Aiden's superior who knew of his sixth sense was the one to assign Ramirez to the case. He was curious whether the rookie had been informed about his special abilities. After his conversation with Lucius Johnson, he was feeling rather paranoid. "What did they tell you about working with me?"

 
          "Uh, basically try not to piss you off." Alejandro answered nervously
.

 
           He was satisfied with that answer and nodded. "Good advice."

 
          "Can I ask you a question Agent Stone?
"

 
          "Just Stone is fine." Aiden corrected
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          "Stone, why are we investigating a murder? Isn't that something the local PD can handle?
"

 
          "The victim's father, Senator Cavender, carries a lot of weight in Washington. He made a few calls and got the FBI involved. It's called politics. You ought to start to get used to it.
"

 
          The two men met briefly with the investigating Dallas Field Office FBI Agents in Sherry Cavender's murder case, Agents Holmes and Gaines. Holmes was a 15-year vet with the Bureau while Gaines had made agent three years prior. Overweight and big bellied with a face that resembled a bulldog, Holmes was the type of cop who had seen it all. Gaines, an elfin redhead who could have been a Hooters waitress, was a little more optimistic in her view of the world. Holmes and Gaines were more than happy to share the info they had accumulated in the case of Sherry Cavender and provided Stone and Ramirez with detailed notes of their inspection and a list of witnesses who had last seen the young woman alive and their statements
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