Nice tattoo

> "That was an interesting experience." Leo said with a smile. > "Jasmine Renault seems to be next on their list. They know we're on > their trail and that they won't have much time. Where to now?"

"You had suggested tattoo parlors, and after the things we just heard I think that would be a good idea. I'm hoping we can find out who put that tattoo on Jasmine Renault's back, " Jordan replied.

Fortunately Santa Fe did not represent a booming metropolis for the tattoo business and there were only 3 tattoo parlors in the vicinity of the city. Unfortunately Agents Jones and Stern didn't find what they were looking for until they reached the third. This one proudly announced that they used a clean needle for every customer.

What they were looking for turned out to be a 6'-4" tall tattoo artist named Rocko. "Sure, I remember doing Shiva," he said, "That was an unusual enough request that it sticks. If you wanted to know if I remembered doing an eagle or a rose, forget it. I do probably 5 of those a week and they all sorta blend together in my mind."

Jordan suspected that there were certain chemical substances that aided in blending Rocko's memories, but he decided not to mention it. "Did she bring in her own artwork for you to work from or did you do this freehand?"

"She didn't bring a picture, but I had one to work from. Hold on a minute, I'll get it," Rocko got up and dissapeared through a door in the back wall of the shop.

The two agents heard him clunking up some stairs and followed him across a room above by the creaking of the floor. The movement stopped and was followed by a couple of muffled thuds. Then the agents traced Rocko's progress back across the room above and down the stairs.

Rocko walked through the door holding a handbook from a fantasy role-playing game. He put it down on a low table and flipped it open. "You guys ever play?" he asked while flipping pages.

Leo shook his head, and Jordan said, "Yeah, a little in college."

"Well if you're in town Friday night, stop by. I wouldn't mind another player. Remember to bring your own munchies, though. I run the game, but I don't feed people. Ah, here it is." Rocko turned the book around on the table so the agents could see it.

The page he had opened to had a line drawing of Shiva next to a column of game statistics about her. She was sitting cross legged holding a skull in two of her hands. On her head was a crown adorned with smaller skulls.

"Is this what you drew?" Leo asked.

"I used this to work from, but I added color and had to leave out some of the finer detail. I think I've got a photo."

"Photo?" Jordan asked.

"Yeah," Rocko said gesturing to a rickety shelf in the corner of his studio, "I keep photo albums with pictures of all the work I've done. They come in handy when people come in here and they don't know what they want. I don't think this one has made the album yet," Rocko opened the top drawer of his desk and pulled out two picture envelopes. He opened the first and muttered, "No," put that one back and pulled the pictures out of the second.

He began pulling the top picture off the pile and laying it on the table. The variety of tattoos was amazing. In the middle of the pile, he pulled off a picture and handed it to Agent Stern. It was a shot of a back with Shiva in all her glory. The skin showed the bruising characteristic of a fresh tattoo, but the colors Rocko had used still showed deeply.

Jordan showed the photo to Leo who asked, "Jasmine Renault?"

"What's the date on the picture?" Rocko asked, and Leo read it off to him. Rocko pulled his appointment callendar off his desk and flipped to the right page. He pointed at the name that was penciled in, Jazz Renault.

Jordan handed the photo back, "Thanks Rocko, you've been very helpful."

"Anything to help my country," Rocko replied patrioticly.

***
The two agents walked over to their car and Leo asked, "So, what now?"

"I'm really not sure," Jordan replied, then his cell phone rang.

> <> *Jordan said*

> "Jim here. We have some news."

> <>

> "She wouldn't be called Renault by any chance, would she?"

> <>

> "I found a picture of a mountain cabin. Sheriff thinks it belongs to the > Renault family. Also, the Helping Hands group meet in people's homes. The > number to dial for this weeks meeting belongs to Mr R Renault."

> <>

> "Yeah, also, Zenya made arrangements to meet someone on the end of that > number. She's got to be at the Lincoln Street Diner in fifteen minutes"

> < night vision glasses, you may be there a while....>> Jim groaned inwardly. > <<....and tell Zenya to proceed to the meeting. I'll have Leo as her man on > the ground and I'll be around too>>

> He grinned at Leo, while Jim signalled to Vanessa she would be joining him > at the cabin. She didn't look too happy.

> "OK chief. We'll get right on it. I'll wait for your call."

> < still some loose ends I want tied up. Later.>>

Jordan hung up and got into the car, "I guess I know what we're doing next."

"That is?"

Jordan explained the situation as he started the car and drove out of the parking lot. He hoped that Zenya wouldn't need their back-up too much.

***
"We'll see you later. Ok, bye." Rebecca Cross hung up the phone and swore.

"What's the matter?" Ted asked.

"That was Jasmine, and she's done something stupid."

"What?"

"She got a tattoo of Shiva on her back. She did it to surprise us. She really wants to show it to us," Rebecca replied.

"You think it will interfear with the ritual."

"It might, and I don't think I want to take any chances. We've worked too long preparing for this to have any screw ups now."

"But, Becca, it might not interfear with the ritual, and besides, where are we going to get another sacrifice now?"

The phone rang, and Rebecca answered, "Hello," she said sweetly.

"Oh, I see. Of course Mrs. Renault, I'd be happy to go meet her. Ok, bye." Rebecca turned to Ted and said, "Some Russian girl just called Helping Hands. I'm supposed to meet her on Lincoln Street in about 15 minutes."

"Do you think she might be suitable?" Ted asked.

"I hope so," Rebecca said. She walked to the bathroom and returned a moment later with a small syringe, which she tucked in her purse. "Wish me luck sweetheart."

"Good luck," Ted replied.

***
Jordan's cell phone rang again and he answered it, "Hello."

"Ted Cross?"

"We'll be there in about 10. Zenya should be ok for 5 minutes on her own. Ted wouldn't do anything in a public place."

"Good work. We'll deal with Ted when we get there."

Jordan hung up the phone, and sped up.

***
Zenya sat in the Lincoln Street Diner alone at a table. She was facing the main entrance, but she was painfully aware of the second entrance behind her.

Zenya felt a hand on her shoulder and nearly jumpped out of her skin. "You called Helping Hands?" a voice asked.

Zenya turned and breathed, "Rebecca?"

If Rebecca was as surprised as she, she hid it well. "Zenya, I'm surprised you called us," Rebecca said sliding into the booth across from Zenya.

"Oh," Zenya said, "I don't really need help, I was just trying to get more information on Helping Hands in connection with the murder of Mary Ritchie." Zenya's mind was racing. This was not who she expected to be across the table from.

"What do you want to know?" Rebecca asked adjusting her dress under the table.

Zenya swatted at a mosquito she felt biting her leg, but the insect was gone by the time her hand got there, "Could you give me some general information?" Where were Jordan and Leo?

"Helping Hands was founded in the 1960's as a women's support group. Back then, the members set up a shelter for battered women. It was one of the first in the country. The group has grown to as many as 150 members. Today it's a little over half that and growing again. The 1980's was a tough decade. The membership really shrank."

Zenya put her hand on her forehead, she wasn't feeling so well.

"Are you ok?" Rebecca asked.

"I'm fine."

"Let's go out to my car. I'll take you someplace you can rest."

Zenya's brain screamed, "NO!" but she felt herself nod.

Rebecca stood up, helped her to her feet, and led her out the back door to her red Corvette. Rebecca helped her in the passenger side door, and got in the other side. The Vette left the parking lot, and turned right.

Two minutes later Jordan pulled the tan Tarus into the lot.

"I don't see the Vette," Leo said as Jordan parked.

"Maybe Reaper was wrong and the Vette wasn't heading here."

NRPG:
I was inspired, and it got WAY too long. That's the way it is sometimes.

Syndie: Have fun. It's not everyday you get to be a potential sacrifice.

Jeff: Over to you.

Sau Woon and Peter: Ready for company at the cabin?

Finally, just to repeat myself one more time, anyone interested in being a trainer, let Andrew Bell know.

Respectfully submitted,
Alton Reich
SA-4 Jordan Stern, Team Leader ZULU