In The Company of Wolves_Follow The Raven

by James Michael Larranaga

  “Really?”

  “I’ve learned of patients, even US veterans, who’ve flown to Peru for it, to ease or even cure symptoms of PTSD. It occurred to me that maybe the tea helps Quin unplug, or transition out of the subconscious state without the side effects that the other remote viewers experience. When you suggested we give the others the tea, you were probably onto something.”

  “We should certainly test that,” Kruse said.

  “Even if the patients agreed to it, you’d never get approval or funding to use a Schedule 1 drug in this way.”

  “Never say never, Dr. Hayden,” Kruse said, leaning back in his chair.

  She had to somehow wipe the arrogant smile off his face before Quin showed up, so she said, “Now that you know what I plan to share with Quin, what will you say to defend the bureau?”

  He took a deep breath and said, “The truth.”

  Quin sensed that Hawk had a bad feeling about this place. The final stop on their journey, the state security hospital, wasn’t exactly on Hawk’s bucket list. The rain pounded hard on the truck roof, the windshield wipers mopping sheets of it as they drove through the security gate. Hawk hated fences; Jimmy did, too, and Quin knew the razor wire only made the place look like a prison or internment camp.

  “This is home away from home?” Jimmy asked from the back seat.

  “Sometimes,” Quin admitted.

  “Turn around, let’s get out of here,” Hawk said.

  “We need answers,” he told them.

  He checked his phone for the string of text messages he’d exchanged with Agent Kruse over the past thirty minutes. He and Dr. Hayden would be waiting for him in the first-floor conference room.

  “Don’t surrender to them, Quin,” Hawk said. “When has it ever been good to hand over your freedom?”

  That was a fair question, and one that Quin had pondered on their drive back from the Dakotas. The hours of thinking had created in him a rolling boil of anger toward the bureau. And they could easily lock him up here again.

  “They owe me the truth,” he said, parking the truck near the entrance that glowed with a hazy light in the rain. “Wait here.”

  Hawk grabbed his arm. “Listen to me.”

  Quin looked into his tired eyes and said. “Say it, Hawk.”

  “Have I told you the parable of the wolf?” Hawk asked.

  “You’ve told me,” Jimmy piped up.

  Now wasn’t the time for a lesson, but Quin didn’t have the heart to cut him off. “I don’t know, Hawk. Have you?”

  “An elder was teaching his grandson about the ways of life,” Hawk said. “He told his grandson that a fight was going on inside him, a terrible fight between two wolves. One wolf was evil, full of anger, revenge, pride, resentment, and superiority. The other wolf was good, full of kindness, joy, forgiveness, and compassion. ‘The same fight is going on inside of you,’ the chief said to his grandson, ‘and everyone else, too.’ The grandson asked, ‘Which wolf will win?’”

  Jimmy had obviously heard this story many times. “The one you feed,” he said, patting Quin on the shoulder. “The one you feed.”

  “What happens in there is up to you; how you choose to react,” Hawk said.

  “I get it,” he said to them. “I won’t lose my temper.”

  “I’m coming,” Hawk said, opening the truck door into the rain.

  “Me, too,” Jimmy said.

  “Hurry up then,” Quin said, leading them through the rain to the hospital entrance and the security window, where they showed their IDs and signed in. They waited in the lobby, dripping wet, until Dr. Hayden came down the hallway, her hand outstretched.

  “Quin, welcome back!”

  He shook her warm hand and noticed her looking at his friends. “This is Hawk and Jimmy.”

  “Nice to meet you both,” she said, but neither of them met her halfway for the handshake. “Can I get you anything to drink, coffee?”

  “No,” Hawk said.

  Jimmy shook his head, droplets of rain splashing to the floor.

  “Follow me then,” she said, and Quin walked with her down the quiet hallway, Jimmy and Hawk lagging behind.

  “Congratulations,” she said. “I hear you had a successful mission.”

  “Thanks,” he said. “I just need information and I’ll be on my way.”

  He followed her into the conference room where Agent Kruse was waiting at the far end of the table, hands in his pockets, as if he were ready for another remote viewing training session.

  “Agent Kruse, these are Quin’s friends, Hawk and Jimmy.”

  Kruse gave them a cordial nod and looked past them toward the door. “Where’s Autumn?”

  “What? No hello, welcome back? No ‘atta boy’?” Quin said.

  “You’re supposed to bring me Autumn.”

  “Bring you Autumn?” Quin said. A surge of energy propelled him forward, rushing Kruse, grabbing him by the collar and pinning him to the wall.

  “Quin, no!” Dr. Hayden shouted, her voice a distant echo muffled by the sound of blood throbbing in Quin’s ears.

  He ignored her, holding Kruse tightly with one hand. “Where’s Autumn? After all these years, you finally want to know where she is?!”

  Kruse choked as he tried to speak, gripping Quin’s arm. “Let me explain!”

  “Quin, please don’t hurt him,” Dr. Hayden repeated. “Don’t make me call security.”

  Jimmy closed the conference room door and Hawk stood in front of the phone hanging on the wall.

  It would be so easy for Quin to tighten his grip, to strangle the bureau’s throat, to snuff out the liars who covered up the truth. He could set an example right here, right now.

  “Which one will you feed?” Hawk whispered to Quin.

  Quin heard the wind outside and a howl deep within himself. Which wolf should I feed: the angry, self-righteous wolf, or the forgiving and compassionate wolf?

  A wave of calm came over him. He let go of Kruse and stepped back, saying, “It doesn’t make sense.”

  “What, Quin?” Dr. Hayden asked.

  “For twelve years nobody cared.”

  “I cared,” Kruse said, tucking in his tousled shirt.

  “Really? Why?”

  “I thought if we found her, you might see value in Remote Viewing,” Kruse said.

  “In other words, for your own selfish reasons,” he said.

  “I wanted an assignment where we all saw the final results, the proof to share with the team that what they do every day has value,” Kruse explained. “Is it so selfish of me? You got your sister back.”

  “But it’s not real,” Quin said. “You orchestrated the event to make it look like a real rescue.”

  “What are you talking about?” Kruse said.

  “It was too easy. After all these years we find her?” he said.

  “That’s the power of a good paranormal team,” Kruse replied.

  “You had access to FBI and DEA files. You knew where she lived, and you convinced Dillan and Rachel that they located Autumn.”

  “Sure I had access to some bureau files, so maybe I’m guilty of front-loading their RV sessions,” Kruse admitted. “But I never knew Autumn’s location. I wasn’t even sure if she was alive.”

  “But the bureau has been known to fabricate events to suit its own purposes,” Quin said.

  “I’m not one of those agents, Quin. Look at me; I’m a paranormal researcher. That’s not exactly the career path one takes to climb the corporate ladder here.”

  “If it’s real, why did the bureau give up on my family?”

  “Tell him everything,” Dr. Hayden said to Kruse.

  Kruse sighed. “If they had pursued an investigation against the people who killed your parents, they would’ve jeopardized undercover agents and informants in the field.”

  “That’s it? My parents’ lives weren’t worth pursuing justice?”

  “Your parents smuggled people across the border, Quin.”

  �
�To save them from the coyotes!”

  “It’s hard to tell one coyote from another,” Kruse said. “That’s how the bureau saw it at the time.”

  “That sucks, not fair,” Jimmy said.

  “I don’t like it any more than you do,” Kruse said to them. “I put my career on the line digging up this case. This entire division is hanging by a thin thread, but RV is real. You helped prove it.”

  “Let’s go, Quin,” Hawk said.

  “I’m not done yet,” Quin said. “What’s happening to the remote viewers?” he asked Dr. Hayden.

  She looked at Kruse, as if waiting for permission to speak. He nodded.

  “This is the best team we’ve trained, but they’re showing signs of post-traumatic stress,” she said. “It’s not life-threatening.”

  “Unless they take their own lives,” Quin said. “Dillan’s a mess. Susan is in a locked ward. Others have committed suicide.”

  “On a few rare occasions,” she admitted.

  “Statistically they’re no more likely to commit suicide than anybody suffering from PTSD,” Kruse added.

  “There might be a way to prevent it in the future,” Dr. Hayden said. “Where do you get your ayahuasca tea?”

  Quin remained silent, unsure of where she was going with her questioning.

  “When Quin first came to me, he was sick,” Hawk answered her. “I had something that I knew could help him.”

  “Ayahuasca is a Schedule 1 drug,” Kruse said.

  Hawk folded his arms. “It’s a root from the ground.”

  “And a felony if you’re caught with it in the United States,” Kruse said.

  “There are exceptions if it’s used for ceremonial purposes, but only for members of the Santo Daime Church or União do Vegetal,” Dr. Hayden said.

  “It’s a natural medicine, like peyote,” Hawk said. “Why must your government take everything away and then sell it back to its people?”

  “You always said to end our sessions on a high,” Quin added, poking at Kruse.

  A quick smile burst onto Kruse’s face before he caught himself. “I didn’t mean it literally.”

  “We’re not here to make a drug bust,” Dr. Hayden said. “In fact, we’re interested in your tea recipe because it might indeed be medicine that could benefit the remote viewers. It’s possible that ayahuasca is what helps Quin transition between his conscious and subconscious states with fewer side effects. We need to test this, of course, but it looks promising. There is anecdotal evidence that veterans suffering from PTSD have had success with ayahuasca as well. You not only found Autumn, Quin, you found the elixir that could help the remote viewers, or anybody suffering from PTSD.”

  “Tell him what we learned by monitoring him in the field,” Kruse said.

  “It’s confidential health information,” Dr. Hayden said, motioning toward Jimmy and Hawk. “We can discuss it privately later, Quin.”

  “Tell me now.”

  “Shall we sit?” she asked.

  She shared with Quin and the others the test results she’d gathered, all the hypotheses they’d tested and how in the end, she couldn’t find an exact diagnosis for him. It was a relief, a heavy burden lifting from his shoulders, and the more she talked, the more alive and normal Quin felt. From her laptop, she showed them the video from Mexico, how his brain activity would shift in and out of subconscious states.

  She spoke animatedly, smiling at times, even reaching across the table to pat his hands, and for the first time in more than a dozen years, he felt less crazy, even gifted.

  “I don’t know if you’ve always had it or how long it will last, but it’s truly an honor to work with you,” she said.

  “So there’s no reason for me to stay?”

  Dr. Hayden blinked in surprise. “I assumed you’d stay after hearing this.”

  “If I want to leave, can I?”

  “You can exit the paranormal program, but you’d still be an outpatient here for a while,” she said.

  “Quin, this program needs your talents,” Kruse said.

  “Why would he help a government that’s always taking more from its people?” Hawk said, folding his arms.

  “I understand, I know how you feel,” Kruse said. “This is a tiny division in a crime- and terror-fighting bureaucracy. And within this organization, just like in any country, corporation, or tribe, there are good intentions and bad intentions. Sometimes it’s only with hindsight that we realize we’ve veered from the correct path. I believe the paranormal division can do a lot of good. We found Autumn.”

  “You can’t have her,” Quin said.

  “The bureau made mistakes, even covered them up,” Kruse said. “They’d be content if Autumn never materialized. But if the team could just meet her, that’s all it would take to give us the satisfaction that we succeeded. I don’t want anyone to think I fabricated this rescue.”

  Quin was beginning to trust Kruse again. His answers seemed legitimate, but he thought of something else to ask him. “What was the deal you made with Sinaloa?”

  “When Dillan and Rachel located Autumn near a known Sinaloa meth lab, I was concerned you’d run into bigger trouble than we were prepared to handle.”

  “What kind of deal?” Quin asked again.

  “They wouldn’t interfere with our rescue attempt if we don’t interfere with one of theirs.”

  “Who are they rescuing?”

  “I can’t divulge that—”

  “Because it might jeopardize informants in the field?” Quin said sarcastically.

  “Correct, and you have to stop talking to reporters,” Kruse said. “Everything we do here is top secret.”

  “How do you know about Candace?” he asked.

  “Agent Lopez called me,” Kruse said. “Candace cannot publicize any of this.”

  “She’s a journalist. She’ll claim she has the freedom to express herself,” he said.

  “Sometimes we give up small freedoms for bigger ones,” Kruse said. “Today’s world is under high-tech surveillance. Every phone call, text message, web search, and credit card transaction is recorded. The data is monitored, or even stolen by foreign governments. Our goal is to find a new way—or maybe it’s an old way—of watching and listening, to stop thieves and terrorists.”

  “I still don’t like giving up freedom,” Hawk said.

  “Most of my career was with the bureau’s Indian Country Crimes Unit. I’ve been to many of the reservations,” Kruse said. “May I ask, Hawk, are you Dakota or Lakota?”

  “Dakota. My wife Lily was Lakota.”

  “And you know of the Oglala warrior who stood up against US Cavalry forces to protect his people?”

  Hawk nodded. “Crazy Horse.”

  “And Crazy Horse eventually surrendered to save his people,” Kruse said. “He gave up his freedom, hoping to preserve his tribe.”

  “We’ve been fighting terrorism since 1492,” Hawk said proudly.

  “You certainly have,” Kruse said, “and I know I shouldn’t ask any more of you. But we are all one people who have to figure out how to get along, and right now xenophobia is in the air.”

  Hawk nodded in agreement. “And now you know what it’s like to be attacked based on another man’s beliefs,” Hawk said to Kruse.

  At that moment, Quin noticed the conversation had turned into something far more symbolic. Kruse was attempting to bridge the gap between indigenous tribes and the FBI.

  “Zealots and lawless men are recruiting vulnerable people to act out heinous crimes against humanity; but the FBI recruits, too,” Kruse said. “We need gifted people like Quin.”

  “It’s not my decision, it’s his,” Hawk said to Kruse and then turned to Quin. “But either way, you have my blessing, Quin Raven.”

  This was the first time Quin had ever seen Kruse nervous, as if everything was riding on this one decision. Kruse cleared his throat and said, “We’re training a new kind of warrior to see and stop the enemy before it strikes here. And since the
United States shares borders with indigenous tribes, I hope we can continue working together to protect our shared homeland. Quin, can I count on you?”

  Quin enjoyed a month of vacation from the bureau and bounty hunting, fishing and camping with Hawk and Jimmy while he cleared his head. He was enjoying his new roles as brother and uncle. Autumn wasn’t sure if she’d settle in with the Navajo Nation or somewhere near Quin, so he invited them to Minnesota to experience his hometown. Hawk had provided a room for them at his place and today, Jimmy had volunteered to babysit Marta while Quin and Autumn explored the city. Their first stop: Freedom Bail Bonds.

  Quin waved to Sal Foster as he and Autumn stepped into the musty office, the door clanging shut behind them. Sal peered at him through the bulletproof glass separating him from two women seated with clipboards, filling out bail bond forms.

  “Look what the cat dragged in,” Sal said.

  “What? No thanks for coming back?” Quin said.

  “And you brought a beautiful woman with you. She’s not a skip, is she?” he said, shuffling through his paperwork.

  “Be respectful, Autumn is my sister.”

  “You never told me you got a sister.”

  “You never asked.”

  “Autumn, beautiful name.”

  “Thanks,” she said. “Nice to meet you.”

  “It’s a good day, right, Sal?” Quin asked.

  “Good?” Sal said, sticking an unlit cigarette into his mouth. “I got two here posting bail but I got three more that skipped. It’s a leaky bucket.”

  “Sounds like you could use help,” Quin said, leaning up closer to the glass.

  “You and her teaming up?”

  “No, I’m only riding along today,” Autumn said.

  “Because the Finn brothers teamed up. They post all them bounty-hunting videos on YouTube. They got an agent in Hollywood that’s getting them a reality TV show. You two could do that. It could be free advertising for my business,” Sal said.

  Quin looked at his sister, who was holding back her laughter. “She’s just tagging along to see how I work.”

  “It’s about time you got back. What took so long?”

  “You knew I was on assignment with the bureau.”