Shaman - the Awakening by Vr McCoy Page B

apprehended. The barn had been a drug lab for meth and the cultivation of marijuana. The local newspapers blasted us for the effort. We were now harassing innocent Native Americans trying to make a living; forget about the illegal drugs and weapons confiscated. It was another notch on the belt for the FBI, but a blemish on the mission to capture the serial killer. Although it was a good bust and apprehension, the A.D. had some choice words for us at the morning briefing. We felt his wrath for our efforts.
    “What the hell were you thinking? We're not here to start another damn war with the Indians! I don't want a Waco cluster fuck on my watch, you get it? I asked the Department of Interior / Bureau of Indian Affairs for liaisons, not some `yippie ki-yay Die Hards running around shooting up the reservations. Now focus, and go catch this damn serial killer!” Then Steve took the lead, playing the good cop to the Assistant Director's bad cop.
    “I know you're out there working hard, people, but let's not lose sight of the task. We are still racing the clock. Keep up the good work and remember to watch each other's back. Paul was shot by an elderly Native American yesterday who thought he was a trespasser, so stay vigilant.” At our startled glances, he added, “He's in the hospital, and in stable condition.”
    We spent the better part of the morning and afternoon completing paperwork; filling out forms and writing reports on the shooting incident. It had been a long night and we had been up the whole time. We finished up late in the afternoon and our team was told to take the rest of the day off to regroup, so we went back to the Hilton to catch some much needed sleep.
    I woke up a bit restless. Dianna felt the same way, so I decided to take her and Nina out for a beer in town. We needed to unwind. I felt like the luckiest man at the bar, as I was being escorted by two extremely attractive women. Not only were there a slew of men watching and wondering who I was, but several women were curious as well. We danced and had a good time. For a nerd, dancing was the one things that I did exceptionally well. I had actually taken dancing lessons when I was younger, as a way to relieve stress and to impress the women during my days of promiscuity.
    A night out was exactly what the doctor ordered. We even got into a fight; well, Dianna and Nina had to kick some guys' asses. It really wasn't a fair fight. Either way, those guys had it coming. They were drunk and disrespectful. The ladies needed that stress relief. They were still feeling the adrenalin from yesterday's gun fight. We had a bit too much to drink, so we caught a cab back to the hotel. Nina was staying at the Hilton also. It was one big Federal Convention there. I'm not a drinker or a fighter, so I was literally punch drunk after the fight. When Dianna and Nina helped me to my suite, I passed out on the bed.
    I woke during the dark of predawn after an unplanned foray into erotic dreamscaping with my lady. I was fully aroused, and Dianna jumped on top of me and we went at it like rabbits. We were horny as hell due to the foreplay of the previous dreamscape. Afterwards I had a lot of explaining to do. I had a dreamscape sex threesome with Dianna and Nina. This had turned us both on, but not without consequences. Dianna understood, because she knew how drunk we were. She was secure in our relationship, but how would we explain this to Nina? I had violated a co-worker and a partner.
    Although it was a dream, it had all the reality of consciousness. We had seen and now knew every part of her body and her erotic fantasies. She knew ours as well. If we didn't hear from her again it would be merited. I could get thrown off the case and maybe suspended, or lose my job. I began freaking out, and then we heard a knock on the door. Panic just raced through my body. I just knew it was A.D. Pollin, who hated me anyway. Dianna went to the door quietly and looked through the peep