Infringement Page 6

  In truth, Stanton sat in complete silence watching her through the camera’s monitor for just over ten minutes. Nikki’s eyes were filled with tears, panic and total confusion. Stanton relished every emotion so purely expressed in her deep brown eyes, so much so that he quite completely lost himself in bliss. He was fixated on the undeniable terror rushing through her body, which mixed flawlessly with the confusion and lack of understanding that spoke through her eyes. That silent, uninterrupted time, the chance to look so deeply into Nikki’s soul through her eyes, to revel in the range of emotions he’d brought forth in her, thoroughly erased every memory of Stanton’s prior failure and the shame that had accompanied it. He was finally, ever so slowly, becoming Abaddon.

  Still holding the camera in one hand, Stanton slowly moved the hunting knife toward her face with the other. Nikki shuddered and jerked her head away.

  “Don’t do that,” Stanton said softly, as he reached out further with the knife, pressing the razor sharp tip against the center of her forehead. “Just be still and keep your eyes open. Don’t close your eyes.”

  Very slowly, Stanton followed the contour of her face with the knife, softly tracing the outline of her cheeks and lips. He guided the knife tip over her chin and down the length of her throat, careful not to press so hard as to break skin. As Stanton maneuvered the knife down, along her nervously heaving chest and the contour of her breasts, he could feel her body tremble beneath the touch of steel. He kept his eyes on her eyes the entire time, never looking at the rest of her body even as he slowly guided the knife over her hips and pelvis. Nikki continued to look up or down, never wanting to hold Stanton’s disconcerting gaze. Tears were streaming from her eyes. Her body began to tremble violently as the knife made its way back up her torso and stopped again against her pounding chest.

  Finally, Stanton pulled the knife away from her skin and asked, “Do you know what we’re listening to? Just nod yes or no.”

  Nikki tried to focus on the music, the singing she had only been partially cognizant of a second earlier. She nodded her head side to side, to say no.

  “This is ‘Faust’, composed by Gounod. Not to be confused with ‘Doktor Faust’, which was the one composed by Busoni. Frankly, I enjoy them both, but I find this one more beautiful. Just listen for a moment.”

  Stanton put his finger to his lips and silently watched her through the camera monitor again. “What do you think? Do you like it?”

  Nikki didn’t know how to respond. Her entire body still trembled uncontrollably, but she tried to gather herself enough to communicate with Stanton, which she suddenly thought, and hoped, might provide her with some way out of her situation. She nodded her head slightly up and down.

  “A little, maybe? Good. It is a beautiful opera. Do you know the story?”

  Nikki, gaining a bit more control of herself, nodded no.

  “Well, let me give you the abridged version. Dr. Faust is an older man, a man of science, who’s dissatisfied with his life. One night, he curses God and calls on the devil, Mephistopheles, who of course appears. He’s real you know? The devil, he’s real. Did you know that?”

  Nikki again nodded to say no.

  “Well, he is, and so is God, but we’ll come back to that later. Back to the story, Mephistopheles appears and offers Faust riches, power, whatever he wants in this life, in exchange for Faust’s soul. But, all Faust wants is to be able to return to his youth, which Mephistopheles gladly grants him. Faust goes back and eventually seduces a beautiful young maiden, much like you, named Marguerite. He impregnates her and leaves her, but she still loves him. Later, Mephistopheles speaks to Marguerite, telling her she’s damned in part for causing the death of her brother, and she goes insane and is put into prison for infanticide. It’s a sad opera in many ways, but in another way it offers hope. Do you know how?”

  Again, Nikki nodded, no.

  “This is where what I told you about the devil and God being real becomes relevant. Faust wanted the innocence of his youth, he wanted to relive his youth, to be young again, and Mephistopheles gave him that. I’ll tell you a little secret… he’s giving that to me too. Let me ask, did you have a happy childhood?”

  Nikki nodded yes.

  “Really? That’s somewhat surprising, given what you do for a living. I’ve always thought girls in your profession probably had screwed up childhoods, but what do I know. Well, my childhood was not happy or pleasant. I won’t bore you with the various sordid details, but my childhood, from my earliest memories, was full of pain. Mostly, it was my father, but my mother never raised a hand or voice in my defense. Neither of them ever loved me and then, when I was thirteen, they both died. I didn’t kill them, though I wish I had. When they died, I went to live with my grandmother, who didn’t love me either, but at least she didn’t hurt me. That, in a nutshell, was my youth.”

  “If that story makes you feel bad for me, you’re not the first, but it doesn’t matter. I couldn’t tell you how many times I prayed to God when I was growing up. How many times I pleaded with him to make me someone new, put me somewhere new. He never did. No words or pity or prayers to God ever helped me, nor will they bring back my youth or erase all the crap I dealt with. But Mephistopheles, or more accurately, the devil, can and he is. I’ve struck my own bargain so to speak. When God stayed silent, I called out to his antagonist and he answered my call. I’ve given myself over to his servant, to Abaddon. Do you know of Abaddon?”

  Nikki forced herself to nod no again, but listening to Stanton, she was beginning to lose any hope of escaping unharmed and began to tremble visibly again.

  “He’s one of the devil’s most powerful servants. He’s described as the ‘Angel of the Abyss’ or the ‘Destroyer’, and, to make a long story short, very very soon, we’ll be one.”

  Stanton put the video camera down on the bed and pointed it toward Nikki. He sat atop Nikki, straddling her trembling body. “You’re a very beautiful girl,” he said. “Would it surprise you to know that I’ve never been with a woman, never touched a woman’s skin as I am with you now? In truth, that’s one of the reasons I was chosen. I’ve never defiled myself with a woman.”

  His hand gently caressed Nikki’s cheek and traveled slowly down to her neck and then to her bare shoulder and slowly down along her left arm. He felt the softness of her trembling skin, as he stared directly into her panicked eyes, but the suppleness of her body did nothing for him.

  “This is truly a blessing,” he said. “I am truly in my master’s favor again and rewarded with this opportunity to look into you and to understand you before you’re gone.”

  Nikki let out a muffled squeal and shook back and forth, desperately trying to escape. The terror surged through her eyes, which only heightened Stanton’s awe and enjoyment of the situation.

  “No, don’t close your eyes. Keep them open wide and I’ll make this part quick. I owe you that. Like me, you’re one of Abaddon’s chosen. I won’t make you suffer. This is part of my debt, part of giving myself to Abaddon, to becoming one with Abaddon.”

  Stanton reached around his back and removed the hunting knife he’d stuffed into his belt. He gently grabbed Nikki’s struggling head and, taking a firm grip of her dark-brown hair as she tried again to free herself, tilted her head back to expose her neck and throat. The hunting knife in his other hand flashed across her line of sight and two seconds later she felt the cold steel as it moved swiftly from the left side of her neck to the right side.

  Blood began to rush from the wound down her neck and onto her chest. Still straddling Nikki, Stanton dropped his head slightly and leaned in, kissing Nikki’s neck and letting the blood flow onto his lips. The flavor was even sweeter than before, like a vintage wine perfected by patience and time.

  Finally, Stanton stepped back, picked up the video camera from the bed and filmed Nikki’s last breathes as they gasped laboriously from her blood covered body. He watched as the terror and pain, which had been so plainly visible only seconds before,
gently diminished in unison with each fading breath until, finally, with the last breath no sign of life or spirit was left in Nikki’s eyes at all.

  David Stanton turned off the video camera and stood for a moment, peering into Nikki’s lifeless eyes, no less in awe by the transformation than he had been with his first kill. He put the camera down, leaned over Nikki’s slumped lifeless body and, with the already bloody hunting knife, surgically pried each of her light brown eyes from her face and placed them into a small clear plastic freezer bag. His sacrifice to Abaddon was complete and the fulfillment of his mission, his destiny, his complete oneness with Abaddon lay less than seventy-two hours away.

  Chapter 15

  December 22nd

  “Is Special Agent Bleeker available?”

  “I believe he is, Declan,” responded John Bleeker’s secretary, Ellen. “How are you doing today?”

  “I’m good. How about you? Any plans for the holidays?”

  “I’m fine. My husband and I are leaving later this afternoon to spend Christmas with his family.”

  “Are you driving or flying?”

  “Driving, but it’s only five hours or so. I’ll ring Agent Bleeker and let him know you’re here.”

  “Thank you,” Declan replied.

  “Special Agent Bleeker, yes, Special Agent Parker is here and has requested a few minutes,” Ellen said into the phone. “Of course, I’ll send him in.”

  Ellen hung up the phone and looked at Declan again, “He’s ready for you.”

  “Thank you, Ellen. Enjoy the holidays.”

  “You too, Declan. Merry Christmas,” she replied with a smile.

  “Merry Christmas.”

  Declan walked into the large office of Special Agent in Charge, John Bleeker. While Declan had been in Bleeker’s office countless times as a kid, when it belonged to his dad and Ellen was his dad’s secretary, he hadn’t been back inside during his relatively short time since being assigned to the field office out of the academy. Bleeker impressed Declan as all business. He was congenial and usually pleasant, but one didn’t have to dig too deep or pay too much attention to realize Bleeker wasn’t particularly interested in making good friends with the agents underneath him, many of whom, like Kevin Cameron, were older and had substantially more service time with the Bureau than he did.

  “So, what can I do for you, Parker,” he said as Declan closed the door behind him. “Please, take a seat.”

  Declan looked thoughtfully around the office, trying to remember what it had looked like when his dad had been the Special Agent in Charge years earlier. Bleeker noticed Declan taking in the surroundings and said, “I guess you haven’t been in here to see me before have you? We always meet in one of the conference rooms.”

  “No, I haven’t,” Declan replied. “But I used to come in here all the time when I was a kid.”

  Bleeker thought for a second. “Oh, that’s right, your father headed up this field office at one point, didn’t he?”

  “He did.”

  “Special Agent Ron Parker, correct?”

  “That’s right.”

  “He was responsible for some pretty big cases during his career. I’ve heard he was a very good agent.”

  “One of the best,” Declan responded.

  “So, what can I do for you, Parker?”

  “Sorry, I won’t take up much of your time.”

  “Not a problem, Parker. You have my ear.”

  “Well, I received a call a few days ago through local law enforcement, based on a ‘See Something, Say Something’ tip they got. I ran the guy through our systems and he came back clean. No big deal, but I did find two grandfathered pre-ban AR-15’s registered to him through NICS.”

  “I see.”

  “Like I said, not seemingly a big deal as I know there are still plenty of pre-ban AR-15’s out there, but I wanted to get more info on him, like ammo purchases, internet search records, etc., you know, the basic stuff.”

  “Of course.”

  “So, I put in a PRISM request through the regional fusion center and he came back SCI.”

  “SCI?”

  “Sensitive Compartmentalized…”

  “I know what SCI means, Parker.”

  “Of course, sir. I’m sorry. Anyway, he’s SCI and the fusion center won’t give me anything on him at all because I’m not authorized. It just seems strange that someone who comes up clean in our various databases would be classified SCI by the NSA or Homeland or whomever. It makes me wonder if we’re missing something.”

  “Doubtful. He could be SCI for any number of reasons,” Bleeker replied.

  “That’s what Kevin said too.”

  “You’ve discussed this with Special Agent Cameron?”

  “Only briefly. He was around when I took the call and he recommended that I put in the PRISM request.”

  “I see.”

  “I think there’s something here. I tailed this guy Stanton…”

  “Stanton?”

  “Yes, sorry, that’s the suspect’s name, David Timothy Stanton. I tailed Stanton late last night for a few hours.”

  “You’ve set up surveillance on him?”

  “Not exactly,” Declan replied. “I was able to obtain his address, vehicle type, registration, DL photo and most of the standard stuff through our systems, so I’ve been staking out his apartment for a few nights. Late last night, after I’d already been outside for an hour or so, he came out, so I followed him to one of the strip clubs just outside of the city. He never went in, just sat in his truck for two hours or so until the place closed down, then he followed a girl who came out back to what I believe was her apartment.”

  “Did he do anything?”

  “No, but I think he planned to. He followed her from the club to her apartment. I have the address and her plates and plan to run both when I’m finished here. But, he followed her, watched her go inside, then he walked up to the front door. I think he got spooked when another car pulled into the complex and he bolted.”

  “So, he didn’t actually do anything?”

  “Other than follow her home? No.”

  “Do you know whether he, what’s his name again?”

  “David Stanton.”

  “Do you know whether Stanton knew the girl?”

  “No. At least not yet, but I’d like to look into it further and set up a full surveillance detail. Something just doesn’t seem right. I’d also like to see if you can contact someone at Homeland or the NSA and see about the SCI classification. Maybe see if we can get access under the circumstances.”

  “I tell you what, Parker. I’ll call a friend from Yale who’s now over at Homeland and see what I can find out about the SCI classification. I’ll do that today and see if there’s anything to it. In terms of a surveillance detail, in that you didn’t see Stanton really try anything, I think it’s premature at this point. At least until we get additional intel.”

  “Okay, but what if Stanton just got spooked last night and goes back tonight? He was definitely up to something; that I know.”

  “Maybe, but at this point you don’t know what. This girl could be an ex-girlfriend or a harmless infatuation he was trying to ask out, but chickened out at the last minute. He could just be some kind of pervert, or a peeping tom or something. I don’t think a full surveillance detail is justified at this stage. Let’s give it a few days and get some more information before we commit the man hours and Bureau resources.”

  “If that’s your decision, sir.”

  “It is.”

  “Can I at least continue to keep an eye on him, until you’ve had chance to speak with your friend and gather more intel?”

  “Of course, I’d expect nothing less.”

  “Thank you.”

  “But, take tonight off. If there is something there, I don’t want him to catch onto you and get spooked.”

  “I’ve been using different vehicles and locations.”

  “As I would expect, but that doesn’t mean he hasn�
��t noticed. You did say you followed him outside of town and to this girl’s apartment last night, right?”

  “Right,” Declan answered.

  “Do you acknowledge the possibility that Stanton could have noticed you following him?”

  “I suppose, but I don’t think so.”

  “Regardless, brief Costello and take tonight off. We’ll touch base on this thing tomorrow after I’ve had a chance to talk with Homeland. Let’s say, 10:30.”

  “Will do, sir.”

  “Excellent. And, Parker, I’m serious about tonight. Costello will cover it, understood?”

  “Understood.”

  Chapter 16

  December 22nd

  Megan’s flight from D.C. had been delayed over an hour and wasn’t expected in until sometime closer to 7:30. Declan was a walking bundle of anticipation, which rendered him unable to just sit at home waiting for a reasonable time to head to the airport, so he left as if her flight was on time and figured he’d kill some time in the main terminal. At least he’d be there, and he was hopeful some diversion or other would occupy the time.

  Upon entering the airport, Declan immediately checked the Arrivals board only to discover Megan’s flight had somehow suffered an additional delay and wasn’t expected until 8:10. After browsing the various bookstores and sundry stores in the main terminal, Declan made his way to the “Runway Bar & Grill” and nabbed an empty seat at the crowded bar, which was bustling with holiday travelers.

  After a few minutes, one of the bartenders brought him a draft beer and put in his food order. Declan drank his beer and watched the news coverage on the latest escalation of events in the Middle East. Israel had begun exchanging heavy rocket fire and targeted air strikes with the Syrians, Hamas, Hezbollah, and Islamic State fighters operating just over the Jordanian border. The Israelis had suffered civilian casualties from Syrian missiles fired into Tel Aviv the day before, using missile technology provided by the Russians. They had responded with a substantial air strike on various military and government sites in and around Damascus. Those air strikes prompted, or depending on one’s point of view, provided an excuse for Hezbollah and Hamas to engage Israeli Defense Force, or IDF, soldiers in the West Bank, Gaza, and the border area between Lebanon and Israel, as well as for the Syrians to launch another flurry of missiles into Israel, many of which had been intercepted by the Iron Dome. Islamic State fighters had begun engaging IDF troops along the Jordanian and Syrian borders.