THE BODY COLLECTOR
CHAPTER TWO
"THE MEETING"
It was a rather large room with high ceilings and grand windows that showed the cities skyline. Towards the front was a podium and behind it were three large flat screen monitors at least twelve foot by ten foot mounted on the wall. In the middle of the room were leather couches and chairs set up in a semi circle facing towards the front. In the back of the room on a slightly higher platform was a very old desk that looked more like an antique, and seated behind it was the Colonel. Everything in the office was incredibly high-tech and advanced, nothing like the crap back at the department. To the right of the Colonel stood a tall well built man who appeared to have his eyes fixed on Harris rather intently. He wore black fatigues, something you would normally see worn by SWAT personnel. His hair was black and short and his blue eyes gave off a small tint of light. On the couches were seated three other men and one woman. One of the men appeared to be a weight lifter, he wore the same fatigues but his were grey in color and seemed tight as it hugged his large arms. He had a high and tight hair cut which gave off the impression that he was either prior military or currently active. The other gentleman was smaller in stature and wore a black pony tail that extended just below his shoulders. He had a deep tan and also wore grey fatigues. The woman who sat at the edge of the couch looked to be military as well, but she only wore grey combat trousers and a shirt covered with a small Kevlar vest. She obviously could defend herself with the greatest of ease and her look of aggression was reciprocated quite beautifully by her girlish smile. Harris turned his attention towards the Colonel when he noticed him stand up.
“Detective Harris, so good of you to join us,” the Colonel always seemed calm when he spoke. Harris had always wanted Division 2 to be real, but in all honesty he seriously doubted it. Now laying his eyes over the entire room and the people in it, he felt a sense of honor wash over him, as if a secret had been revealed to him with a tag of trust that was priceless. After a moment Harris realized that he must have seemed like a lost child with large round eyes, he had to break the awkward silence.
“Colonel, if you don’t mind me asking why was I asked to come?” Harris wanted to get straight to the point.
“If you could please have a seat, Ian was just about to finish his report.” The Colonel then pointed towards an empty spot on one of the couches. Harris then cautiously walked to the couch were he took a seat next to the weightlifter and the gentleman with the pony tail. The two men didn’t even take notice when Harris seated himself. Ian then began to walk towards the front of the room until he positioned himself behind the podium. With a remote in hand and paperwork in front of him, Ian dimmed the lights and began his summary. All the screens turned black, then all at once they began to show a still frame of an individual dressed in black and barely visible.
“For the newcomer my name is Ian. Now with that I shall begin.” Ian always appeared calm and collective and his peers respected him without any question. Harris sat quiet and listened deeply.
“For the past six months New York has suffered a series of murders unlike any other. No one has any information or descriptions of the murderer, except what you see behind me. It is a photo caught from a parking lot camera positioned next to the entrance of the last crime scene. If you notice his position, you can see that he actually stopped and posed for the camera knowing full well that his image would be caught. That is how confident and arrogant he is. Also according to the picture and the surrounding we’ve been able to determine that the killer is approximately six foot one, maybe even two. He is somewhat large and if I had to guess, extremely lethal from hand to hand combat to prisoner interrogation techniques.” Ian then clicked his remote and the image of John Jameson appeared. Harris couldn’t believe what he was seeing, how could they have these pictures so soon he thought.
“The man you see before you is John Jameson. He is the latest victim making him number eight. I have a theory that the Collector preys on victims who have slipped through the cracks of the judicial system, and even those who have been flying under the radar. For example Mr. Jameson is a pedophile that hasn’t been sniffed out.” Harris felt a sense of self gratification as his hunch was proved correct, but again how did Ian already know this. “There have been seven other murders credited to this individual, each with a sense of punishment attached to them. Our killer takes pride in his work as you can see in these pictures.” The remote in Ian’s hand began to click every three seconds showing images of the last crime scene, most of them disturbing but very calculated. “What we have here is a vigilante who holds no regards for the law and will act regardless of the consequences. This individual puts a lot of thought and preparation into his work; I suggest we do the same. Also, John Jameson had his eyes and thumbs removed for purposes still unknown. That’s of course until now.” Ian then walked from behind the counter and towards Harris where he extended his hand, “Let me be the first to welcome you to Division 2.” Harris stood up and accepted his gesture and looked around at the rest of the people in the room, they all seemed pleased.
“Sorry to put you on the spot Detective, but one of the reasons I asked you to come this morning was to brief Division 2 on some peculiar theories you have.” The Colonel waited to see how Harris would respond. After a second of contemplating, Harris motioned towards the podium and stepped behind it.
“First of all I just want to thank you all for having me here today. I’m sure you’re all aware that I’ve been tracking this guy for the past six months and have had to endure his little gifts of deformed bodies and tortured minds. I have reason to believe that this killer of ours attacks only those worth the time and worthy enough for his punishment.” Harris looked over the room and noticed how intently they were all listening. “I believe John Jameson removed his own eyes.” He could tell by the facial expressions that he was about to lose them. “I know what you’re thinking, that’s crazy. The killer wouldn’t have taken the time to write a line in reference to “Oedipus the King” if it didn’t truly have meaning behind it. Mr. Jameson was a pedophile and for those crimes he had to be punished accordingly. For him to experience his sentence, he had to rip his own eyes out, no one else could. If the killer did it himself, then he would have diluted the penalty and thus devalued the whole thing. He takes pride in his work like an artist to clay. As for now, the thumbs are still up in the air.” He then looked out to the Colonel.
“Well done Detective, outstanding job.” The Colonel stood up from behind his desk and said, “Everyone resume your duties, Ian come with and Johann look after our newest team member.” The room came to a complete stop as everyone focused their attention on Harris. Then after a few breaths of silence, each of them smiled and one by one shook his hand welcoming him to their family. The weightlifter was the first to introduce himself as Nate, and without knowing gripped Harris’ hand rather firmly. The female then introduced herself as Solis who then said she had a raid that she was almost going to be late too and had to leave. Last but not least was Johann with his ponytail that Harris couldn’t help but notice every time he looked at him.
“Is there a dress code of some sort that I should be aware of?” asked Harris as he awkwardly looked over the ponytail.
“The only thing required around here is work ethics, be the best that you can be and always remember that the team comes first.” It was then that Harris noticed his thick accent, probably from South Africa; it was also then that he realized that he never answered the question. But instead of pursuing it, he decided against it and instead asked about the Division.
“Johann, tell me about this place.”
“Let’s take a walk,” said Johann as he turned down one of the halls with Harris right beside him.
“Division 2 has been around for awhile now, maybe six or seven years. Not much is known about the first division except that the Colonel led it. I was asked to join about four years ago and everyone was already attached at that time. We’ve been involved in almost every high profile case you can think of, except when congratulations were given out, we were nowhere to be seen. No one knows of our existence, and those who’ve heard of us merely think we are just a rumor built on legends and hearsay.” Johann stopped in front of another oak door labeled “Mainframe”.
“What’s in this room?” asked Harris with curiosity.
“What lies behind this door is a vital key to our success, a tool in which you will become quite familiar with over time; follow me.” Johann pushed open the door and led Harris into a dark room with one large monitor that lined the entire back wall. In the middle of the room was a glass desk that housed a few keyboards with a small vintage lamp that loomed over the right edge of the surface which provided enough light to work under. The room was empty of any furniture or decorations.
“This room is called the Mainframe. It’s a computer system that is linked to all other department databases or hard drives from homeland to abroad which entails the F.B.I to Interpol and so on and so on. Since you well know, we do not work in conjunction with any other organization so gathering information could prove to be a difficult task. All police departments and even the military have no idea of our existence. So you could say we slip through the back door and obtain what we need without anyone ever being the wiser.” Harris grazed the keyboards with the tip of his fingertips and examined the workmanship of the desk and hardware. Everything seemed so expensive as if they had no budget to contend with.
“What happens if you run into a problem? Say for instance the police department?”
“Good question,” said Johann as he began to load a program into the Mainframe. “I guess we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.” After punching in a few pass codes, which Harris barely caught a glimpse of, the screen came to life with figures and numbers in all different languages. “In order to access the Mainframe one not only needs the pass codes, but fingerprints as well. As you noticed the keyboards are encased in the glass so you don’t have to actually touch the keyboard in order to push the button. The warmth off the tip of your finger is enough to trigger the key to be activated. Thus every key stroke made is accompanied by your fingerprint.” Johann began to demonstrate as he surfed the web by barely gliding his hands over the surface of the desk, manipulating the keys with great accuracy.
“So this is how Ian got the pictures from last night as well as from the previous murders.” Harris couldn’t believe how much information was available to these people. With so much knowledge comes power, and he could only hope that these people were responsible enough not to abuse it. “So what about my job at the department, should I put a two weeks notice in or what?” Harris cracked a smile as he looked at Johann who by now appeared a little beside himself.
“You do know that we’ve taken care of everything,” said Johann in a calm and low tone.
“What do you mean taken care of everything?” By now Harris felt something on the horizon.
“You no longer work for the department.”
“You mean someone called and had me transferred or something along those lines . . . right?” Harris quickly added.
“What I mean is that you’re officially dead. You no longer exist.” This had to be some sort of joke, how could this be, thought Harris. Something inside him began to brew, a mixture of confusion and anger boiled ready to erupt.
Staring right at Johann, he said, “One more time; you mean to tell me that . . . I’m dead. That I can’t go back to work because I no longer exist. Stop me if I’ve gone astray in my line of reasoning.”
“I’m sorry, someone should have told you,” said Johann with all sincerity. Harris by now was beside himself. So much has transpired in a matter of minutes that it began to over take him.
“What do mean you’re sorry? I was asked to show up for some unknown reason, and that was all. I'm ecstatic for the invitation into the Division, but that doesn’t justify taking someone’s identity away without their knowing. Besides, when did this all happen?”
“When you came in this morning, you placed your hand over some type of glass surface. It was then that a portion of your DNA was extracted. With that sample they were able to locate all existing files and records that lead back to you. Everything from your birth certificate to your high school diploma has been retrieved and destroyed. It’s not only for your safety, but for the Division as well.”
Harris took a deep breath and placed his hand over his mouth thinking of what to say. “This is too much . . . too fast. I need to talk with the Colonel.”
The two then started back towards the Colonel’s office and once inside Harris asked Johann to leave so that the two could talk in private. Harris tried to focus his attention on the bonsai tree just behind the Colonel’s desk in order to keep from shouting out accusations or obscenities.
“Please tell me you didn’t do what I was recently informed of?”
“And what’s that Harris? If you mean destroying pieces of paper with your name on it, records with facts and figures about you, then yes the Division did it.” The Colonel never moved a muscle when he spoke, all the while eyeing Harris’ reactions. Monitoring how far he could push him.
“This paperwork you’re obviously upset about doesn’t effect how you live or breath, it just leaves bread crumbs back to you for every assassin in the world to pick you off at any time or day. What I did was in your best interest. By working here you’ve signed a waiver on life, this is by far the most dangerous assignment of your life and in all honesty I hope that one day you’ll be able to retire. But in truth you’ve got a good ten years, maybe even twelve. Why shorten by giving your home address to the local terrorist group down the street.” He then swung his chair leaving Harris to stare at his back.
“Straight to the point in a nonchalant way; I like that . . . I respect that. But that still doesn’t give you the right to tamper with other people’s lives.” By now Harris felt calm and completely understood where the Colonel was coming from. But for Harris it was the principle that fueled his argument. “What gets me is that with so much power who keeps you in check, how do I know that you’re not the terrorist group? I know that you don’t work in conjunction with any other department in the world, but don’t’ you find that just a little bit odd? Place yourself in my shoes, how does one begin to explain that?”
The Colonel stayed looking out the window until he finally turned to focus on Harris. “Our tasks are on the most part difficult and complex. Most, if not all of the time, we are need of much assistance that can only be acquired through the mainframe. Yes, it’s a lot of knowledge for one group to have, but untainted information is what we seek. You would be surprised to find out how many politicians to military officials have been bought or are already on someone’s payroll. Everything can and has been manipulated to please those in high places, making our job that much more of an uphill battle. I make no apologies for how we conduct our business, but know that we use what tools are available to us to help those that need it the most. And with that I must put an end to this conversation for I have already revealed too much.” He then stood up and grabbed his black coat and while putting it on said, “You seem distraught. If it makes you feel better and solidifies your trust in me, I’ll have all your information reinstated before you leave the building.”
The more he talked to the Colonel, the more at ease he felt. An idea of trust and respect for the Colonel came over him as he realized that maybe this guy was okay after all. “Thank you sir; I greatly appreciate it and I do apologize for any inconvenience I might have caused for you.” The two shook hands as a symbol for a new beginning.
“How do you know I won’t tell anyone about what happened here today?” asked Harris.
“I hand pick everyone on my staff, including you. You’re a man of integrity and I would trust you with my life if need be.” Harris couldn’t help but wonder how this stranger could have more faith in him than he did.
“Before I leave there’s one more thing I should tell you.” I don’t know if I can take any more surprises, thought Harris.
“You have twenty four hours if you decide you want to be reinstated. After that you’ll never hear from Division 2 again. I understand that all of this must seem surreal, but remember not all things are what they appear. Behind the exterior of a title or symbol lies the truth, no matter how far off it may seem. Think about that when you look at your wedding ring.” And with that he left closing the door behind him. Harris in turn did the same. So many thoughts raced through his mind as he tried to contend with the idea of actually walking away from a job people would kill for. He considered membership into the team an honor; one which he wanted to accept graciously. He walked down the wide and elegant hallway to the elevators past the receptionist who grabbed his attention before he passed her.
“So how was your first day?”
“Good question . . . I guess we’ll just have to wait for tomorrow.” He smiled and felt good when she mirrored his sentiment. As he pushed the button to recall the elevator he noticed his wedding ring and for a moment got lost in thought. The ring was beautiful platinum with small scratches from years of wear and tear. So much time has passed and so many things have changed and through it all Harris never lost sight of what he considered to be real and true . . . his wife . . . his love . . . Claire.
“BING
The doors opened and in walked Harris who appeared as though he were trying to awaken from a long slumber. He wasn’t sure what tomorrow would bring, but his time here opened his eyes to a broader horizon. A world unknown to almost everyone, and he was lucky enough to take a peek. As the doors gently came together, Harris looked at his watch and realized that the photo shop was now open. Harris couldn’t help but wonder if he was making a mistake. At least he had time to ponder in hopes of making the right decision. The gap between the doors finally came to a close, and he was now off to reflect.
“Copyright © 2004 by Robert Dominguez Jr. All Rights Reserved.”