Howling At The Moon

Agencies & Agendas

Hey there. One of my awesome reviewers mentioned that Rachel's explanation might not have been very clear. Apologies, apologies. Hopefully this interlude chapter in her POV will help clear up the blank spots. The chapter switches back and forth between present time and flashbacks, but all are still in her POV, so hopefully it shouldn't be too confusing. Let me know if you like it.

As always, lots of love for reviews and special thanks to 'GByrd' and 'Mythical Words' for reviewing so far. As anyone attempting to be a writer knows, reviews and feedback are always welcome.

Enjoy!

Rachel POV

I walked back to the house, tears blurring my vision for most of the way. It was a wonder I didn't fall off a cliff, although somewhere in the back of my mind, a little voice said that Paul would kill himself before allowing anything of the sort to happen to me. And then I shut the voice up by remembering how it had hurt when Paul had not even taken my hand, let alone held me. The voice replied that he had no idea what was going on with me. I had told no-one what had gone on in Seattle. What had happened in University. The kind of trouble that had come up. The number of times we had seen friends hospitalized, or worse, because of bad drugs. Drugs they didn't always take on their own.

We had only learned the cause of this much, much later. The drug rings that had controlled operations in our part of town had decided that testing their new cocktails and combinations were best done on subjects with no expectations. Subjects who had no pre-conceived notions of what would happen upon ingestion. In other words, subjects who had no idea they were being slipped drugs; in their drinks, in their food sometimes. There was even a case where someone had substituted medication with a different kind of pills. The DEA had become aware of the situation very quickly and even though they had their share of busts and triumphs, the cases only slowed down, never stopped. So they had gone further.

I still remember that morning's class like it was yesterday. Jason and I had both been half asleep. Me because I had pulled an all-nighter studying and Jason because he had been visiting his sister at home and had driven back very early that morning. After losing both their parents in a horrific car crash, the two of them were closer than ever. The sorrow of a double loss had bound them both tighter than most normal siblings ever would be. The professor was very peevish when he entered class and we soon found that it was because normal lessons were being suspended for the day. That perked us up. Instead, there was a Psychological Survey group that wanted to study our demographics' reaction to certain situations; this was to somehow aid the professors in some new way or the other. None of us really cared to listen to that part. All we heard was no class today because of some test we didn't need to pass.

3 weeks later, a few of us were called into the counselor's office under the pretence of discussing our futures after graduation. Instead, what we each found upon entry, was an officer of the DEA sitting with another counselor and the Dean. They had explained to us individually, that we had been hand-picked by the agency, to help them in their investigation. If we were uncomfortable, we could leave right away. If we were willing to help, we were to meet later that afternoon at a coffee-shop near campus. When I had got back to my dorm after saying I would help, I found Jason waiting for me, looking troubled. He asked if we could talk and suggested we stay outside to do it.

"Rach, there's something I need to tell you" he finally said. "Sure Jason, what's up?" I asked, nervous myself after the surreal experience in the counselor's office. "You will probably think I'm nuts, but I just got called to the counselor's office and … well… I don't know how to say this.. but" "The agency?" I interrupted. "Yes, how did… oh God, they called you too?" his face paled. "Yeah, so what do we do?" I asked him. "Well, you remember Sandra right? Michael's almost girlfriend, freshman year?" "Yeah, of course, didn't we double date once?" "That's the one. You remember how she got sick at that party? When she died the hospital called it an overdose? Well, this has something to do with it. She and Michael were friends even in high school, and while they might not have worked out as a couple, he genuinely liked her. Mike's my best friend, Rach, and they called him in as well. He hasn't forgotten Sandra, and he said he was in. For sure. "