Dreamweaver - Cover

Dreamweaver

Copyright© 2008 by Shadow of Moonlite

Chapter 40: Progress

Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 40: Progress - As if being a teenager weren't hard enough, Jimmy must now use his gift to help his friend Angela recover from her ordeal, while still helping the FBI catch the man responsible. And then there are the other little problems... Dreamweaver is the sequel to Sleepwalker, many of the same themes apply but most of the sex has been taken 'off screen'. The themes involved are adult in nature and include references to bondage, teenage sex, dominant/submissive behavior, incest, and rape.

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Paranormal  

As we stepped out of the tent and on to the sand, Allison said, "Well that was certainly a lot easier than going in. So, do I want to ask what that was all about?"

"Amber." I answered.

She nodded her understanding as she said, "Ah, yes, I see. Enough said. So, what do we want to do next?"

"Well," I answered as we moved over to where Jamie was waiting for us, "barring unforeseen emergencies, I'd like to talk to Bob about the problem with Jamie and me being separated. It seems odd to me that when she is gone to someone else's dream it's a problem, but when we're just, I don't know, ignoring each other, like just now, it's not."

"It's not just when you're in different people's dreams," Allison said. "We were still in your dream earlier tonight, plus you were together in the same dream, your dream, when she collapsed before. So it's somehow different. There is something else coming into play here." She turned to Jamie, "Did you get tired at all just now, when you were doing whatever it was your were doing and Jimmy and I were tucked away in the bubble?"

"No," Jamie answered. "But then, it wasn't for as long as before either. It wasn't that much shorter but then I don't really feel anything before it happens anyway, there's no real warning."

"Okay," Allison said. "Then that's a good thing, because now you have an approximation of how much time you actually have. 'That long' is okay. A little longer may be okay; the question is, 'how much longer' is a little longer? Maybe you should make yourself a watch or timer or something that's programmed to automatically start when you separate, then warn you when you reach the maximum 'safe' time that you are sure of. Then you can get back together, or at least closer together and monitor how much more time you have."

"That sounds reasonable," Jamie answered. "Do we still need Bob?"

A new voice whispered to me, "Sebastian?"

I looked at Jamie, "Did you hear that?"

She nodded, "Yeah, looks like we've got plans." She turned and kissed Allison on the cheek, "Sorry to kiss and run but we have to go see Kurtz. I reset your key so you can go see Lizzy if you want." She stepped into me, the sensation was hard to describe, "C'mon big brother, let's go see if we can find a way to catch this guy."

Kurtz was actually up and pacing when we arrived. Funny that I was now thinking of us as we when we were together even though it was really still 'me' in reality. What was different this time was that we didn't stop at the hallway but appeared in the cell with him right away. Something else seemed wrong though. I couldn't put my finger on it but something just seemed ... missing.

"You wished to see me?" I said. Immediately his head swiveled toward the sound.

"You came." There was a hint of surprise in his voice.

"Of course, I told you I would."

"Forgive me, my friend, after so long alone, it is hard to imagine someone placing such importance in me."

"I think it's more than that," I said. "I think that after so long with people in your life being more interested in your other, it is hard to believe anyone is interested in you at all. Rene, I don't want to mislead you, my only interest in you is to stop him. To me your life is a tragedy worthy of Shakespeare himself, but I am using you just like everybody else has used you; the only difference is that I am doing so with your knowledge and for a purpose that I believe you support. If we are successful, if we stop him, it means that you will die, but as tragic as that may be; I believe that this is what you want. Am I right to think this?"

"You are right, my friend, oh so very right. If my death is the price of stopping him, then so be it; it cannot come soon enough. So long as that is your goal, I am yours, use me as you see fit, only stop him. That is all I ask."

"Very well, I think we should start using their own training against them."

"Them?" he asked.

"Them," I said. "The ones that did this to you, they trained you in order to train him. So let's see if we can't use some of that training. Rene, if he was not you but some other killer on the loose, how would you stop him?"

"What do you mean?"

"You were a trained analyst. If I brought you the case of an assassin recently chased from his carefully crafted alias, forced into the light as it were, how would you go about stopping him?"

"It would depend on the circumstances. Has he fled to another place?"

"No, he is still in the same area."

"Then there are only two possibilities; either he has a second identity already in place, or he is crafting one." He began to pace again. "I do not think he can have one already in place. Not in the same area. It would require that others know him to be convincing. In another area, yes, but to hide in plain sight requires documentation, residency, employment. All these things mean people that you must interact with convincingly. How long had he been in place before being exposed?"

"Roughly four years, give or take."

"Then he cannot have a second identity so close. He had a job?"

"Yes. He had assumed the identity of a pharmaceutical rep."

"Then he would be known over a large area, within certain circles at least. This would take up too much time to allow for a second professional life; there would be too much chance of conflicting schedules. If that is so, then he has lost his income, which means he is working from his reserves. Still, he may have had enough cash available to survive for some time."

"If he did, then he kept it somewhere else," I said, "he didn't have time to take anything with him."

"You are sure of this?" He asked, turning to look at me.

"Quite sure. Since then the FBI has been monitoring any activity under his former name; banks, credit cards, everything."

He resumed his pacing, "Of course. Then they are surely monitoring for large transactions moving in and out of the area. But there are many ways to move money. I would look for anyone in the area making unusual stock transactions; particularly sales which do not follow their previous pattern or seem out of place. Selling when the market is rising for instance, wholesale liquidations of assets. Or he could be moving money through a third party source. But that is expensive and dangerous, so I do not think it is likely. Generally you must be known before such sources will deal with you. For a high enough percentage they will do it anyway, but it tends to be prohibitively expensive. The higher the amount the higher the commission you must pay." He paused again, "Or he is using another identity and moving the money in small enough amounts to not call attention to himself. What was the name he used?"

"Kenneth Riley."

"There is a clue; he will always use those initials; the opposite of mine. Undercover he used Kienen Rietz, Kronus Ramadi, Karl Reich; always the same initials."

"That is something to look for. But wouldn't Interpol know this? Wouldn't they have provided a list of his known aliases to monitor?"

"Probably, but not necessarily. There are those, were those, in positions of power that may withhold certain pieces for their own interests. There was a larger agenda that I was not aware of, obviously. Whether or not he knew the details I cannot say. I do not know who was behind what I became, but he may."

"So you think he is relying on money coming in from a hidden source?"

"Almost certainly; most likely an offshore account, a numbered account perhaps, something that does not require a name, merely a number and a series of passwords." He stopped suddenly. "I ... there is something ... a man in a gray suit..." he put his hands to his temples in the classic pose of someone trying to massage a memory free.

Without thinking I rushed forward and touched his ankle, "Show me."

His body went rigid and a scene formed around us. A tall man, incredibly thin, very professional in appearance sat at a desk across from us, he handed us a card with a series of numbers on it. There were two other sets of numbers on the bottom, they looked like phone numbers. The mystery man confirmed that as he handed us the paper.

"Here is your account number Mr. Renquist, if you will enter it into the computer you will then be prompted to enter a series of passwords, with these passwords you will be able to access the account via phone or computer from anywhere in the world. This number will work from anywhere in the world, simply check with the local phone company to get the right code for international calls. It is important that you keep your account number and passwords somewhere very safe Mr. Renquist, they are all anyone would need to access the account. They may be changed at any time. Simply call in and give us the account number along with the current series of passwords, then request a password reset. There are only four employees that can reset passwords; one of them is always in the bank, twenty four hours a day. If you should ever forget a password series the only way to access the account will be in person, so be sure to keep track of any changes you make."

I watched as the passwords were typed into the computer, and then stepped back.

As soon as I broke contact the image disappeared and Kurtz swore, "Damn, just for a moment I could swear I saw someone."

I felt an urgent need to be somewhere else. "Don't dwell on it, Rene. It is likely it was his memory, not yours; you don't want to draw attention to yourself by pushing too hard. I must leave for a while. I want to discuss what you have told me with the people looking for him. I hope it will be helpful. Call me if you think of anything else." I slipped out the door and into my office.

"Thank God! I thought you were never going to come out of there," Jamie said.

"Why didn't you say something?"

She didn't answer.

"Jamie? Jamie what's wrong?"

She was quiet for moment before she finally said, "I don't know. Jimmy, I tried to talk to you, but I couldn't make you hear me?"

"What do you mean you couldn't? Wait, you said you thought I wasn't coming out? Weren't you with me?"

"No," she said. "I mean, yeah I was there, but at the same time ... I don't know, it was like I was outside the door or something. I could hear you talking, even see what you saw, but I couldn't seem to make you hear me. All I could do was just sit in the dark and watch."

"What? That makes no sense." I could feel there was something she was holding back. "Jamie? Jamie, you said it was like you were sitting in the dark. Were you ... back in the box?"

I could almost feel the tears falling. "I ... I think so."

"Jamie, I'm sorry. I swear..."

She cut me off, "No, it wasn't your fault. You didn't know." She paused. "Jimmy, it's okay, really. It was important."

"No, it's not okay," I said. "But it's not like we can change it; what were you trying to say to me?"

"Nothing really, you were doing great on your own, mostly I just wanted you to come out. I don't like it in there."

"Well, that I can certainly understand. Jamie, are you okay? You didn't get weak again or anything?"

"No, it was nothing like that. I was still ... with you, I guess, just not 'with' you, if you know what I mean."

"At the end I felt like I really needed to leave, was that you?"

"Maybe, I can't be sure, but I really wanted you out of there bad at the end. It was like something was coming, looking for you. It started when you played his memory and the longer you watched the closer it got."

"Shit! Then I was right, Rene was tapping his memory and it attracted attention."

"I think so. Jimmy, we need to use what we saw, and if we do I think we can solve two really big problems all at once. You know how Allison was saying that you needed cash to be safe if anything went wrong?"

"Yeah."

"We've got his account number and passwords. Let's clean him out, just take everything, then he has no income and maybe he'll have to expose himself and Rebecca will have a shot at him and..."

It was my turn to cut her off, "Wait a second." I pulled out my phone and called Rebecca.

"Hi, it's me. Have you got a second?"

"I don't know," she answered. "What time is it? Of course I have time for you. Hold on, let me find a door..."

The door to the office opened and she walked in. "So what's up?"

"I just came from seeing Kurtz. We talked about how he would go about catching him, the killer that is; if it were a case he was working. He had some ideas, things like disrupting his cash flow."

"We've already been trying that; we can't find where the money is coming from."

"I'm sure you have, but maybe I can narrow your search. For some reason he always uses the same initials."

"Now that is interesting. I don't suppose he gave you a list of aliases?"

"He gave me a few, stuff he had used in the past for undercover work; Kienen Rietz, Kronus Ramadi, Karl Reich; always the opposite initials of his own."

"Well, he's still following the pattern. He worked Vegas as Keith Richards the year before he killed Diane. Helped set up the system for the hotel he dumped Amanda's body in; then he became Kenneth Riley, so the pattern is the same. Hmm, I wonder if the real Riley stayed in Vegas about the same time? I think I'll do a little digging there and see if maybe that's where he made the change. Anything else?"

"Don't tell her about the account." Jamie said.

"Why not?"

"I'll explain later."

I was getting better at doing two conversations at once; there was no interruption in my conversation with Rebecca at all. "He said to look for unusual stock transactions, someone dumping stocks that don't make sense. You know, selling stocks that are rising, that sort of thing. He said the only other options for moving a lot of money was too expensive."

"True. There are people that will move it for you, but they charge big time commissions; the larger the transaction the bigger their percentage. It's understandable considering if they get caught they could lose everything, you'd have to be pretty desperate to do it that way. So far he doesn't seem desperate or hurried about anything."

"What would happen if we found a way to cut off his cash flow?"

"Hard to say, depends on how much we hurt him. If we could get it all he'd be forced to do something. What worries me is what he might do. A lot depends on how many options he has. If he has several and we take out one or two he may decide that it's too hot to continue the game and move. As much as he may be enjoying yanking my chain and watching me dance, I don't think he'd risk actually getting caught. At best he might move out and regroup, then come back. If his line is secure enough, he may have only the one. If we could take that one out ... he'd have to do something."

"What about a numbered account? Would that be harder to track?"

"Depending on the bank, it could be damn hard. A lot of the older ones pretty much thumb their noses at the international community. They made their names by not caring who they work with, guaranteeing total anonymity and security. No names, just numbers; so they never have to worry about things like warrants and subpoenas. Some of them have billions in unclaimed assets drawing interest because the clients are dead or in prison. If anyone were to show up with the right account number and password they wouldn't bat an eye over handing over the money. For the right fees they would simply overnight the money in untraceable bills anywhere in the world."

"Is that the kind of account you had Mr. Rodriquez set up for me?"

"Yes, not quite like that but a numbered account somewhere outside the country. When everything settled down after my trip to Washington I forgot to ask him about it. I don't want the details but he should have your account number and passwords. You should get them from him and then change the passwords."

"Would that be enough? I mean, if he set the account up through any official channels..."

"Jimmy, trust me. Nothing Rod did on this went through any channels that could be traced. Still, I see your point. It might not be a bad idea to set up a different account, and then transfer everything. That would give you a clean start that no one official would know about. After what they put me through in Washington I have no illusions about just how far some people in the government would go to get the information if they thought Rod had it. Changing the passwords should be enough, but if they had the account number, the right kind of pressure, they might be able to get someone to bend the rules enough to get to you. What you really need is a way to transfer the money without a record of the move. But that takes very high-level access. We're talking bank president, eyes-only access. Someone who could make the transaction and then erase the record."

"That's interesting," Jamie said.

"Okay then, I'll get the information from Mr. Rodriguez and see about moving the money to a different account, just in case. I'll let you know if we come up with anything you might be able to use."

Something in her voice said she knew I was up to something but wasn't quite sure if she wanted to know what. "Fine, just try to warn me before anything big happens. If you hurt him there is no telling what he may do and I want to be ready."

"I will, talk to you later." I put the phone away. "What's on your mind?"

"Clean him out. He may have other irons in the fire but chances are that account is where most of his money is coming from. I say we get a hold of Mr. Rodriguez, get the information we need, then set up a couple of accounts, one for our money, and a second one to use for other things. The first thing we use it for is to transfer every penny out of that numbered account."

"Assuming we have the right passwords."

"Well duh. If we don't then we keep looking until we find the right passwords and then do it. He can't hide long without money. Depending on how much he has locally he may be able to survive for a while but sooner or later he'll have to do something."

"True, but in his case, 'something, ' is a big category. He could go back into the assassination game for starters."

"Jimmy, he's not the only contract killer out there, contracts he passes up would be picked up by someone else anyway. Besides, maybe the FBI could trap him with a phony job. Either way, he has to do something. I'm thinking that if his account suddenly comes up empty then he is going to want to find out why and how. They won't do anything for him over the phone without the right passwords. If we changed the passwords when we're done then he would have to go there in person and see Mr. Gray-suit before they would even talk to him. If what Rebecca said is true then they likely won't do anything for him even then. He was warned about securing his passwords, if someone got them and used them against him ... Jimmy, I think people playing this game accept the risks or they don't play. Going there means flying; Rebecca can have his picture in every airport for a thousand miles. The idea is to make him show himself. Nothing else they've tried is working. Kurtz is trying but every time we see him it's a risk. If accessing the other's memories is attracting attention then the risk is going up and your plan of releasing Kurtz when we find him could be ruined before we even get a chance to try it."

"So by doing this you think it will give us more control over things by upsetting his timetable?"

"Yes. Hiding like this has got to be costing him money. Unless he has a solid background and identity already established it would be hard for him to get a job. He's not that young, he would have to have some kind of work background before even McDonald's would hire him, and that's not the kind of job he's going to be after. I doubt if he is even looking. I think he's got something planned and when he's done he's going to move on to greener pastures. Probably go back to killing for a living. Hell, he could have done that already. Ken Riley's job was cover. A lot of people work from home these days. He could buy a place, pretend to be a renter. If he picked a low end neighborhood no one would even notice."

"I don't see him doing that," I said. "He plays with too many expensive toys. A neighborhood like that he runs the risk of someone breaking in. That's not a chance he's likely to take. He likes his privacy too much for that - especially when he has a playmate. I'm a little surprised he hasn't gone after anyone already; just to rub Rebecca's nose in it. This has become an ego game for him. Everything he's doing is to show her that she can't touch him. That he can come and go and do whatever he wants, whenever he wants to, and there's nothing she can do about it. You're right, that requires freedom and as we've already figured out, freedom like that is expensive. But what if it doesn't work? What if he's already changed the passwords?"

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