Modern/Delta Green - The Beginning of the End (COMPLETED)

talien

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Skinwalker: Part 2a – Three Buttes

The paramedics showed up too late. All of the victims were dead by the time they got there. It took over an hour before the agents were able to return to their van. It was not in the shape they left it in.

“What the hell happened?” asked Hammer.

“I thought you two were with the van?” asked Blade.

“We were helping Colorados scope out the crime scene!” Hammer shouted back.

“Hey, buddy,” said one of the paramedics. “Someone was snooping around your van before, thought it was one of you guys.”

Clothing was scattered everywhere. Vests, BDUs, even underwear.

“What did he look like?”

“Weird guy in a tattered overcoat and a broad-brimmed hat. Was sniffing your laundry. Holding big handfuls of it under his nose. Looked like he was liking it too.”

“Son of a bitch,” said Blade.

Colorados walked over while Hammer scanned the exterior of the van with his cistron.

“I picked up a print on the door handle,” he turned to Colorados. “I’ll send it over to you; check AFIS and see what you come up with.”

“Rumors speak of a witch,” he said.

“A witch?” asked Hammer. “The kind that rides around on broomsticks?”

Colorados shook his head. “Skinwalkers. A Skinwalker’s a Navajo witch. They are always up to no good, casting curses and poisoning the orenda. They can change their shape, become a wolf or rattler or some such.”

“Is there anyone around here we can ask about this sort of thing?” asked Blade. “The only shaman I knew is dead.”

Colorados nodded. “Michele Blackmoon,” he said.

“If she’s not the witch herself,” said the paramedic. “She was a nice lady, but since she came back from college she’s been into some strange stuff.”

“Guppy,” asked Blade, but the smaller Indian man was already on it.

“Got her address. Not far from here.”

They piled into the van. Thanks the arrival of the fire trucks, someone had winched them out of the ditch.

“Maybe I should drive,” began Blade.

Guppy slid into the driver’s seat. “I’ve got it! I’ll be fine.”

“You’re sure…”

“Yes!” Guppy leaned on the gas pedal, lunging the van forward. “Fine!”

The others strapped on their seat belts.
 

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talien

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Skinwalker: Part 2b – Three Buttes

They couldn’t have been more than a few minutes into the drive when the radio started playing Sinatra’s “I’ve Got You Under My Skin.”

“I’ve got you under my skin,” sang Sinatra.

“Shut that s**t off,” muttered Hammer.

“I’ve got you deep in the heart of me.”

“I didn’t turn it on to begin with!” said Guppy, staring at the radio.

“So deep in my heart that you’re really a part of me.”

Blade turned the knob a few times. The digital readout showed the stations change, but the music kept playing.

“I’ve got you under my skin.”

There was a thump on the roof of the van.

“I’ve tried so, not to give in.”

“Did you hear that?” asked Caprice.

“I said to myself this affair never will go so well.”

Hammer took out his Glocks. “Yeah. It’s big.”

“But why should I try to resist when baby I know so well,” the radio crooned.

“And heavy,” said Blade.

“I’ve got you under my skin.”

“I’ll get it off,” shouted Guppy. He slammed his foot on the brakes…

“I’d sacrifice anything come what might for the sake of having you near in spite of a warning voice that comes in the night and repeats, repeats in my ear: Don’t you know you fool, you never can win?”

And the van swerved wildly out of control. Guppy struggled with the wheel. For a terrifying moment it seemed as if the van would flip off the road. The vehicle screeched to a halt.

“Use your mentality, wake up to reality!”

Everyone glared at Guppy, then hopped out the van, weapons out.

Hammer clambered up the ladder to the top of the van. “Clear.”

“Clear,” said Archive after looking underneath it.

“Clear,” said Caprice scanning the back of the van.

The horn honked.

“But each time I do, just the thought of you makes me stop before I begin.”

They ran around to the front. “What?” asked Blade.

Guppy, still in the driver’s seat, just pointed.

“Cause I’ve got you under my skin.”

Standing on the road in front of them was a thing that was pretending to be a wolf. But it was most certainly not a wolf, as the skin was stretched over a muscled frame that tore at the rugged hide, revealing glistening red muscle streaked with white bone. Its spine poked through the back of its hide at jagged angles, as if someone had hastily stretched the fur over a larger beast’s musculature. It growled, and they could see the full length of its tongue between the gaps in its mouth.

“First vampires, now werewolves?” asked Hammer in disbelief.

Blade’s hatchets were out. “I’ve got it.”

He charged it with a roar. The wolf-thing bounded forward.

Man and beast clashed in a titanic collision in front of the van. The wolf-thing unbalanced Blade, knocking him on his back. He held his steel hatches crossed before him, keeping the snapping jaws at bay.

They all opened fire on it. Bullets pierced the flesh but had no effect. Little spurts of blood jutted out of the thing’s back, but if it felt any pain it didn’t show it.

Finally, Guppy took careful aim with his laser and, pointing at the wolf-thing’s head, pressed the trigger. The beam grew in intensity until the mangy head burst into flame. With a roar, the wolf turned and bounded off down the street faster.

Caprice looked at Guppy’s weapon. “I’m going to requisition one of those from Redlight next time.”
 
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talien

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Skinwalker: Part 3 – The Old House

The rest of the drive was uneventful to Blackmoon’s house. It was an old, lonely house with a sunflower spinning wheel. Two cats sat contentedly in a window.

Blade knocked on the door.

A crazy-looking Navajo woman with wild hair answered. Cats spilled out, meowing loudly, through the opening.

“Who are you?” asked the woman. “What do you want?”

“Are you Michelle Blackmoon?” asked Blade.

The woman squinted her eyes at him. “Who wants to know?”

Blade flashed his badge. “We’re federal agents.”

“Don’t even start with that zoning crap!” shouted Blackmoon. “You can’t tell me how many cats people can have. I’ll have as many cats as I wanna have!”

“We’re not here about the cats, ma’am.”

She looked past over his shoulder. “You got anyone else with ya?”

Blade turned around.

“Was that scarecrow there before?” asked Guppy.

“I don’t think so,” said Caprice.

“That’s not my scarecrow,” said Blackmoon.

The old woman grabbed a shotgun from inside the door and pointed it at Blade’s head.

“You’ve got ten seconds to get your ass outta my yard. And don’t think I’m gonna tell ya twice!”

“Whoa,” said Blade, putting up his hands. “We just wanted to ask you some questions…”

The scarecrow suddenly bounded into action. It pulled a huge scythe out of the fields and effortlessly carried it. It took one, two, three mighty leaps through the uncut grass and then it was on the roof of the house. It barely made a thump.

There was a shriek of wood and plaster. Tile fell off the roof. Caprice and Guppy backpedaled to get a better look at it. “It just made a hole into the house!” shouted Caprice.

“Go on! Get out!” shouted Blackmoon. “What the hell did you bring into my house?” She slammed the door behind her.

Blade slammed his shoulder into the door. She had locked it.

They could hear her screaming through the front door. “Oh get outta here!” she shouted at a form at the top of her steps. “GET AWAY FROM MY BABIES YOU SON OF A BITCH! I’LL BLOW YOUR F**KING HEAD OFF!”

“Up the side of the house!” shouted Caprice to Guppy. They grabbed a gutter pipe and started climbing.

There were two shotgun blasts. Hammer hurled himself through a side window into the foyer. Blade followed suit.

Blackmoon was standing at the top of the steps, shotgun held limply in one hand. She gagged and gulped.

Behind her was the Skinwalker. Its flesh was pulled tightly over a skull, as if it were the flesh of a smaller man. The lips peeled back in a grin.

Blackmoon gagged again. The Skinwalker hurled her down the steps.

Blade ducked to the side as the old woman’s body flopped down the steps. Taking the steps three at a time, he buried one of his hatchets in the Skinwalker’s chest.

It laughed at him.

Grabbing his wrist, the Skinwalker flipped Blade sideways and then kicked him down the steps.

Archive dragged Blade’s unconscious body back through the doorway to the front of the house. To give them cover, Hammer fired both Glocks into the thing, emptying the clips.

The Skinwalker jerked as the bullets hit, but they had little effect. As it pointed, Hammer’s flesh split open in great rents across his chest and arms, as if he was a stuffed doll who had burst its seams. He fell to the ground screaming.

The Skinwalker started making its way down the steps when a series of gunshots interrupted its descent. Its head whipped around…

Peering down through the hole in the ceiling, Guppy and Caprice had their weapons trained on it. Caprice emptied his clip into the Skinwalker’s chest, knocking it backwards. It windmilled at the edge of the steps.

Guppy fired his laser at its feet. Screeching, the Skinwalker bounced down the steps. It landed on its back.

Archive fired his Glock into its forehead. It didn’t get up.

Caprice turned to Guppy. “We can cross Blackmoon off as a suspect.”

They hopped down into the house and clambered down the steps.

Their cistrons beeped. Caprice picked it up. “Hello? Yeah? We’ll be right over.”

“What’s up?” asked Archive, tending to Hammer and Blade’s wounds.

“Colorados wants to speak with us about fingerprints.”

“The ones he found on our van?” asked Archive.

“The same,” said Caprice. “They belonged to Virgil Nist.”

“Who’s that?” asked Guppy, afraid to ask.

“The dead man who you found skinned at the bottom of the hole.”
 

talien

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Skinwalker: Part 4 – Police Station

Colorados stood in the Phoenix police station, sharing the print outs of the fingerprints. “It’s an exact match.”

“Whatever it is, it’s dead,” said Hammer, recovered from his wounds with several stitches along his arms and chest.

“Nist didn’t have a twin,” said Colorados seriously. “There’s only one way his fingerprints could be on your vehicle when he was dying at the bottom of that chasm.”

“Skinwalkers,” said Blade.

“Right,” said Colorados. “Since Nist’s body still has its hands, it had to be the skin. Which would take incredible precision.”

The whole conversation was making Hammer uncomfortable. “We killed it. Find out who the man was in Blackmoon’s house and you’ll have your murderer.”

Then the lights went out.

“Hey, hey!” said one of the cops. “Whoa, whoa, whoa!”

Colorados picked up the phone. “Hello?” He put it back down. “WE’VE GOT LIGHTS, AND PHONES, OUT UP HERE! CAN SOMEBODY TALK TO ME? What the hell? Have we got emergency lights here or WHAT?”

The emergency lights cut on inside the building. Over the intercom, Sinatra’s “I’ve Got You Under My Skin” began playing.

“Are you kidding me?” shouted one of the cops. “We don’t have power but they pipe in music? Gimme a break!”

Colorados stood up. “All right people, we’re going into a lockdown situation. That means everybody sit tight and don’t move unless someone wearing a badge tells you to.” He turned to the team. “Let’s go, I need to make sure the prisoners are secure.”

Colorados led them to the holding cells.

“All right, let’s go, gentlemen,” said Colorados. “Get up, show me some skin. You in a coma, buddy? We have a blackout. That means emergency head count. Hey lower bunk. Let me see some skin.”

The prisoner gave him the finger.

“That is special.” Colorados moved to another cell. “Heads up, heads up. Move it down there. Thank you. Thank you for joining us. Show me some skin, that’s it.”

He moved to the next cell. “Heads up, gentlemen…” There was no response. “Gentlemen?”

Two prisoners sat in their cell, shaking in fear. One man pointed to the next cell. Colorados walked over.

Boots, a hat, a cloak, and other clothing lay carelessly on the ground. Colorados pointed his flashlight in the cell.

The Skinwalker and a skinned prisoner were there.

“What in the holy hell is that?” shouted Colorados.

“Shoot it!” shouted Hammer. He drew his two Glocks.

Instead of drawing his weapon, Colorados stepped over to the cell and unlocked the door.

“What the hell are you doing?” screamed Hammer. He tackled the sheriff, but not before the cell door was opened.

The Skinwalker simply stared at Blade. Slowly, Blade took a step forward.

“Blade!” shouted Guppy. “Snap out of it!”

Caprice and Archive fired their weapons at the thing, but it didn’t flinch. It just kept staring.

Blade stepped inside the cell.

Hammer got to his feet and, hurling himself at the cell door, slammed it shut.

“What are you doing?” shouted Guppy. “You’ll trap him in there!”

“It’s too late for him already,” said Hammer.

The Skinwalker walked over to Blade and, clasping him in a twisted lover’s embrace, smothered him with its mouth.

They stopped firing, watching in horror as Blade’s eyes rolled in the back of his head and he gagged.

There was the sound of something huge squawking and flapping above the cell. Then the ceiling exploded as a huge pair of claws tore through it, grabbing Blade by the shoulders. With another flap of its wings, Blade was lifted into the air.

“What the hell was that?” asked Caprice in shock.

“A shantak,” said Archive. “Someone summoned it.”

“It took him,” Guppy said over and over. “It took him.”

“Let’s go!” shouted Hammer. “Anything that large we can track!” He shoved Guppy towards the front entrance.
 

talien

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Skinwalker: Part 5 – Two Horse’s Place

They sped behind the huge bird-like thing with a horse’s head, following its erratic path over hills and through deserts. It swooped down, depositing Blade near a cabin, and then spiraled up into the sky out of sight.

“Something that big…” said Hammer nervously. “We should call in a satellite strike or something.”

Archive shook his head. “It’s fled into space, if not another dimension. Shantaks are not of this world. We won’t see it again.”

They crept their way towards old log cabin. The door was open.

It was a two-room affair, a bedroom and kitchen/living area with a front and back door of rough planking. Blade was on his hands and knees, coughing and wheezing.

“Blade!” shouted Guppy. “Are you okay?”

“It…” he gasped, eyes red from choking. “It just jumped out…” he coughed again.

Archive examined the pottery pieces on the mantle. “These artifacts are quite old. They look like they’re Anasazi workmanship, the type of quality only found in museums.”

Guppy lifted the lid on one of the jars. He wrinkled his nose. “I don’t know what this is…but it’s disgusting.”

It was a thick, pink, semitransparent substance filling the pot to the brim.

Archive inspected it. “It looks like some kind of emollient.”

“Emollient?” asked Caprice.

“It’s used to make skin soft and pliable,” said Archive with a grimace.

“Then you won’t want to know what’s in this jar,” said Hammer. He lifted it up with the edge of his gun. It looked like a sopping wet pile of fur.”

“Wolf fur, I’m guessing,” said Archive.

“There’s nothing else in here,” said Caprice. “Just an old boiler.”

“If the thing left Blade, it had to go somewhere,” said Hammer. He didn’t seem entirely convinced that it had really left Blade.

Archive blanched as he opened the last jar. “I think I know what happened to that woman,” he said quietly. “Her skin’s in here.”

“Do you remember what happened?” Hammer asked Blade. “Anything?”

“I was throwing up something...” Blade wiped his eyes. “It was red and purple…it snaked down…there.” He pointed to one corner of the room.

Guppy got down on his hands and knees. “Yep. There’s a loose floorboard here.”

Blade leaned over and, inserting one of his hatchets into the gap, pulled upwards. The wood bent with a creak and then, Blade’s arms straining, flipped upwards. It bounced off the floor and clattered into an opening down below.

Hammer took a deep breath. “Who wants to go first?”

“It took me,” said Blade, “so I’ll go first.”

There was a ladder leading down. He took it one step at a time.

Peering through the darkness, he swung a flashlight beam across to the far side. The basement was huge, dug out by unnatural hands well beyond the length of the cabin.

Something roiled in the far corner.

More flashlight beams crossed to illuminate it as the rest of the team descended. They could make out the stretched features of a man’s face and hand, flattened, stretched, and enlarged to clown-like proportions in a macabre patchwork of flesh. It was a stitched quilt of human skin, and beneath it something started, as if suddenly awakened.

“Back,” gasped Blade. “Back!”

One of the faces in the flesh lifted up on a pseudopod. Then the whole thing began rolling like a sentient wave, skin falling over skin, tracking up dirt and grime as the quilt of flesh surged toward them.

Hammer unloaded both pistols reflexively, but the bullets merely punctured the undulating skin.

“Go!” shouted Guppy. He fired his laser, and the thing hesitated as the flesh smoked and burned.

With the rest of the team back up in the cabin, Guppy clambered up the ladder. One pseudopod grabbed hold of his leg…

Archive dumped the emollient down the shaft. The flesh shuddered and lost its grip on Guppy.

Stumbling onto the wooden floor, they scrabbled backwards.

“How do we stop it?” shouted Caprice.

“Fire,” said Guppy. He trained his laser on the boiler. “Can you lure it over to it?”

Blade blinked. “I…yes, I think so.”

The flesh flopped outwards over the hole, probing.

The boiler’s temperature gauged flipped to the danger zone. Guppy trained his laser on the heating element.

Blade ran over to the boiler. “Over here!” He held one of his hatchets. With a practiced throw, he hurled it at the flesh. The axe bit deep, only to be enveloped. The thing began extending pseudopods towards him.

“When it gets on top of that boiler,” said Guppy. “Shoot it.”

Hammer reloaded his pistol and nodded.

The flesh shuddered and flexed, rising up in a wall as it crawled halfway up the side of the cabin, across the floor, and over the boiler.

The boiler squealed from the intense heat. Blade flinched as bolts affixing the boiler to the wall fired out under the pressure, punching holes in the thick wood of the cabin’s walls.

“Now!” shouted Guppy he backed out of the entryway to the cabin.

Blade dove for the window, hurling himself through it.

Hammer fired a carefully aimed shot, piercing the boiler.

There was a terrific explosion as the boiler ripped from its moorings, propelled by a blast of scalding hot steam. It ruptured outwards, tearing through the flesh-thing as it rocketed upwards. The explosion blasted outwards and upwards, flattening the cabin, shearing right through the roof.

Hammer and Blade were stunned, flat on their backs from the proximity of the explosion and covered by splinters and logs.

“Holy crap,” said Caprice. “There can’t be anything left of that thing!”

“Get down!” shouted Archive.

A hail of bloody gibbets of flesh, bits of metal from the boiler, and chunks of wood showered all around them.
 

talien

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Skinwalker: Conclusion

They were driving back to Phoenix in the van. Blade was at the wheel.

“So that was the Skinwalker?” asked Caprice.

“There were two,” said Archive, “the Skinwalker itself and a Navajo witch.”

“The man we killed at Blackmoon’s house was known as Charlie Two-Horses,” said Hammer. “Judging by the pelt we found in his cabin, he was also the wolf that attacked us.”

“But that doesn’t explain the thing down in his basement,” said Guppy with a shudder.

“That was the Skinwalker,” said Archive. “The place you found the bodies was its lair.”

“So Charlie digs up the Skinwalker,” postulated Caprice. “He promises it bodies in exchange for the same powers. Then he goes on a killing spree. The woman—“

“Anna Price,” added Hammer.

“Anna finds him digging around down there and the Charlie decides she’ll be his first victim.”

“Until we caught him in the act,” said Blade grimly. “It looks like he was stitching skin together for the thing so it could grow.”

“It’s a good thing we caught it when we did,” said Archive. “There were remnants of egg shells in the cabin too.”

“What was up with the weird song playing every time the thing showed up?” asked Guppy. “Why would it broadcast its presence?”

“I think that was something else,” said Blade.

“Like Coyote?” asked Archive.

“Like Coyote,” Blade said, but he didn’t confirm that it was actually Coyote because he suspected worse.

“There’s one thing I don’t understand,” said Hammer. “Why did it let you go, Blade? I thought for sure it would have ripped your skin off and added you to the collection.”

Blade didn’t say anything at first. “Maybe it didn’t want me.”

They laughed. “Yeah, you’re too disgusting even for a Skinwalker,” joked Guppy.

Blade didn’t laugh. Because he knew, deep down, that it had been forced out. By something that already called Blade’s body its home.

He scratched idly at one of his palms.
 

talien

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Chapter 9: Darkest Calling - Introduction

This scenario, “Darkest Calling,” is from the Call of Cthulhu supplement “The Stars Are Right” by David Conyers. You can read more about Delta Green at http://www.delta-green.com. Please note: This story hour contains spoilers!

Our cast of characters includes:

  • Game Master: Michael Tresca
  • Hank “Guppy” Gupta (Smart Hero) played by Joseph Tresca
  • Jake “Blade” Iron Shirt (Strong Hero) played by Matt Hammer
  • Joseph “Archive” Fontaine (Dedicated Hero) played by Joe Lalumia
  • Kurtis "Hammer" Grange (Fast Hero) played by George Webster
Darkest Calling is one of those scenarios that set up a moral dilemma in the hopes that the PCs will opt for the greater good and will thus just go along with the plot. To whit, a shaman commits murder as part of a ritual to banish extradimensional horrors. He’s the good guy in the greater scheme of things, and the scenario hopes the PCs will see it that way.

But they didn’t. Although they understood why the shaman was doing what he was doing, there was no way they were going to go along with the scenario. The scenario also puts them in the position of impossible odds: it’s assumed the agents go to speak to the shaman on a reservation alone with no backup. What a surprise, the PCs are overwhelmed and become the next sacrifice.

Except the agents were far too smart for that. They figured out the ritual pattern and laid a trap. So I had to play dirty and have some unexpected allies be in on the ritual too.

It doesn’t help that the scenario suffers from an error that is crucial to the PC’s success. According to the scenario’s logic, the first victim should have a dot on his left hand, the second should have two dots on her left foot, the third should have three dots on his right foot, the fourth should have four dots on his right hand, and the fifth should have five dots on his forehead. The PCs find Kate Draper with two dots on her left foot, making her the second victim. Paco Yuma, listed as male in the scenario, is described as having “a single gray dot painted on her hand.” So already we’re switching genders. Then it reads, “the middle right symbol has a single dot on the head (TRUE) matching the dot pattern on Paco Yuma’s head (FALSE, it’s on his hand), while the lower right symbol has two dots on the left hand matching the dot patterns on Kate’s left hand (FALSE, as the dots were on Kate’s left foot). This tripped me up something awful and I had to reread it a few times during play before I realized it was an error.

The other problem is that the agents are basically tied up and thrown down a hole. They wait for days before being sacrificed. No agent (and I would argue no PC) will just wait around without having a plan. To my surprise, their plan almost worked.

Almost. This is a huge turning point in the campaign. Things are about to get ugly and political.

Defining Moment: The defining moment in this game was when Archive was called upon to make an impromptu speech. He did an excellent job. And of course, the finale – this scenario marks the departure of one of our long time players as he leaves for Australia. We’ll miss him!

Relevant Media
  • Burden in My Hand: by Soundgarden. This is one of those songs that perfectly sums up the scenario, from Blade's alcohol problems, to being "haunted by my ghost," to following someone into the desert, to a dead woman's body. I love Soundgarden.
  • The Stars Are Right: Contains the Darkest Calling scenario.
 

talien

Community Supporter
Darkest Calling: Prologue

Follow me into the desert
As thirsty as you are
Crack a smile and cut your mouth
And drown in alcohol

--Burden in My Hand by Soundgarden​
PHOENIX, AZ--“You know, if we keep this up, Caprice is just going to quit,” said Guppy glumly. One of their own had been called on to sacrifice himself yet again to the bureaucratic gods. Doing “paperwork” as they called it actually entailed much more than just paperwork. It meant being cross-examined by a committee, who wanted to know what was done and why.

In their most recent case, there was much cleaning up to do.

“We destroyed the Skinwalker,” said Archive. “That’s not enough?”

“There were records in the Phoenix police station of a man’s fingerprints who was most certainly dead,” said Hammer. “So no, it wasn’t enough. They had to set fire to the police station after the Shantak attacked.”

“What’s the cover story?” asked Blade.

Hammer frowned. “Native American extremists attacked the police station after believing some kind of messiah-like figure was killed in a shootout with federal agents.” As an African-American, he didn’t like the tone the cover-up had taken.

“They made Charlie Two-Horses out to be the underdog?” asked Archive in disbelief.

Hammer nodded. “It’s easier to believe that than a guy running around stealing skins.”

Blade sighed. “Whatever. The mission was considered a success overall or we wouldn’t be on this next case. We’re looking for Kate Draper, a Majestic friendly. She disappeared investigating a missing person in the Tohono O’odham Indian Reservation in the Sonoran Desert.”

“Isn’t that your people?” asked Archive.

“Yeah,” said Blade. “Which is why I’m mission leader. Again.”

”What is it with this place?” asked Hammer. “You’ve got all kinds of supernatural weirdness in Arizona.”

“I think this may be all connected,” said Blade. “What do you have on Draper so far?”

Archive looked up from his keyboard. “A couple of articles on missing persons and cattle, wolf, and coyote mutilations.”

Guppy cleared his throat. “I was able to hack into her e-mail account. She downloaded several online resources on the Kokoham people, a race of American Indians who once lived in the Sonoran Desert but vanished around 1000 A.D. Her e-mail also includes an electronic insurance form with her rental company; she was driving a Toyota Landcruiser, registration number GZB 334.”

“Great, we’ll have to track—“ began Blade.

“I also hacked her credit card transactions,” said Guppy proudly. “Her recent expenses match those of her expense reports except for one: a back country camping permit purchased at Organ Pipe Cactus National Monument three days ago.”

Blade shifted gears as he pulled off one of the exits. “Organ Pipe Cactus National Monument it is.”

Archive stared at Guppy in awe. “Remind me to never tick you off.”
 

talien

Community Supporter
Darkest Calling: Part 1 – The Abandoned Vehicle

A Papago State Ranger remembered Kate Draper. He told the agents that Kate was heading down to the southeast corner of the Ajo Range.

Numerous dirt roads crossed the monument, so it took time to find Kate’s vehicle. Eventually, the spotted her four-wheel drive parked at the end of a very long road.

Pistols out, they surrounded the vehicle.

“Clear,” said Hammer.

Using one of his lock-picking tools, Guppy popped the locks.

A quick examination revealed a Lonely Planet guide to the Southwest, an Apache-English phrasebook, some handwritten notes, a photocopied article, and a torn photocopy depicting a diagram of two stars. Archive took pictures of everything with his cistron.

Archive scanned the notes. “She was trying to draw a connection between the missing person cases and the animal mutilations. Tying it to some ancient Kokoham curse.”

They took a walking trail that led up through a rocky, mountainous pass east into the Monument.

Trekking through the Sonoran Desert was hard work. The trail continued for fives miles, and uninterrupted it took three hours. Though they brought plenty of water, the heat was brutal.

“This…couldn’t we have…” gasped Guppy. “Taken a helicopter?”

“I thought you Indians were used to hot weather,” said Hammer with a smirk.

“I am!” said Guppy. “But this…this is a desert!”

They bumped into Blade, who was staring down over the next rise.

There before them was the corpse of a woman. She was naked, face up, spread like a star and bound by ropes to stakes pounded into the earth. Her body was decorated with fresh cuts, creating a pattern of spirals, stars, crescents, and swirls. Everything between her abdomen and her knees had been eaten away.

Guppy stumbled away, gagging.

Hammer leaned down over the body. “This is Kate.” He snapped on a pair of plastic gloves and began talking into his cistron. “No clothes, jewelry, money, identification, or camping equipment. Bleeding indicates the pattern was carved into her skin while still alive, administered shortly before her death.”

Blade peered over Hammer’s shoulder. “The patterns on her body are a mixture of Tohono O’odham and Kokoham styles symbolizing creatures from the underworld.”

“Some of them are reminiscent of constellations,” said Archive on the other side. He got down on his knees. “See this? There are two gray dots painted on her left foot, one above the other.”

“The fatal wound in her midsection suggests an attack by a large animal,” said Hammer. “There’s a thick, orange substance on the wound…” He swabbed it with an evidence kit. “It smells vaguely of bile.” Hammer moved on. “The body is greenish around the abdomen. Her fingers, toes, eyes, and face have withered, and bloating suggests she’s been dead for at least two days.”

Guppy, who had been heaving off in the scrub but not actually vomiting, finally returned. “There is a circular depression of sand where nothing grows over there. It looks like it collapsed, like a sinkhole.”

Before anyone could respond, the thud-thud-thuding of a chopper overhead interrupted their conversation.

Hammer reached for his Glocks. “Looks like we’ve got company.”
 

talien

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Darkest Calling: Part 2a – Police Investigations

“Drop your weapons and lay face down on the ground with your hands on your head!” shouted the loudspeaker from the helicopter.

”What the hell is this?” asked Hammer.

“That would be the Phoenix police department,” said Blade. “We’d better do as they say.”

They did as they were told. The helicopter landed and four officers left the craft to handcuff them. Two were in plain clothes and three were in uniform.

“We’re federal agents!” shouted Blade over the roar of the chopper. “Check our badges!”

“Right, sure,” said an attractive redhead with her hair tied back in a ponytail. She was dressed in dark-rimmed glasses, a t-shirt and jeans. “You don’t look like agents.”

“You don’t look like a police officer,” said Hammer.

She fished Blade’s badge out of his pocket. “CIFA huh? We’ll have to confirm your identities...”

“We’re in the middle of an investigation!” shouted Blade. But they were already being ushered into the helicopter.

She closed the door inside the chopper, muffling the roar of the engine. “I’m Andrea Knightly, detective in charge of the Phoenix Homicide Unit. Two hikers reported the findings to park rangers.”

“You’d better make the calls quick,” snarled Hammer. “You’re interrupting a federal investigation…”

“Hey!” said Knightly, poking one finger into Hammer’s chest. “I don’t care if you ARE feds, this is MY jurisdiction.” She opened the door again and hopped out. “If you are feds, I’m sure you won’t mind waiting while my men investigate the crime scene.”

She flashed them a smile and then, with a whirling motion of one finger to the pilot, closed the door again.
 

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