Chapter Nine #3
Even after all these years, Kirkland had trouble getting him to talk about his past whenever the chance came up. He had learned to listen for clues and had pieced together some background information.
Other than a childhood in Dublin, Ireland, it seemed that Jed McNeil had pretty much been a CIA protégée for most of his life.
He’d been sent into the Special Forces and Rangers school for training and warfare experience, had been through one covert program and another, all at the behest of the CIA.
Kirkland still wasn’t sure exactly how Jed had parted ways with the CIA and become a COS Commando. COMCEN and CIA weren’t exactly great friends these days, yet he still had ties in the latter agency, giving him a lot more access to covert information than most operatives.
One thing was clear, though. Jed McNeil was a very powerful person and many people listened to him when he did communicate.
Kirkland had personally seen how his wishes overrode a few powerful names, some of them generals and department heads, and other than voiced outrage and threats, there didn’t seem to be any repercussions.
It was a simple rule: what Jed McNeil wanted, Jed McNeil got.
And from that kiss he’d just witnessed, Jed McNeil wanted Helen Roston.
The act itself—a kiss—was telling. During times when he was in his element, when he was figuring out all the different variations of a spy scheme, Jed had always been unemotional, almost robotic, as his mind worked out the next best step.
It was part of the Virus Project training, the compartmentalization of emotions.
In his personal file given to Kirkland in the beginning, there had been a small notation that had caught his attention.
There were little things the attending doctor and a scientist must take into consideration when it came to his test subject.
In Jed McNeil’s case, it was noted that his primary mentor had mentioned the young subject had shown an inordinate capacity to sacrifice himself when it came to protecting someone close to him.
Case in point, the notation went on, was Kitty.
That was all Kirkland had, nothing else that would tell him what or who “Kitty” was.
He did get to ask Jed about it a few years later, showing him the file.
The silence that had followed was also telling. He’d learned that Jed liked to think over whether his replies would take him to places he didn’t want to go.
“She was my wife.”
It’d shocked him because Jed was the last person he’d thought would be married. “What does it mean by ‘inordinate capacity to sacrifice’ in the file?” he asked. “It’s important I know, Jed.”
Jed had just shaken his head. “No, it isn’t,” he’d told him.
“Kitty’s dead. It was a long time ago, when I was barely a man.
Not everything in the file about me is true, Doc, and not everything psychologically explained about my personality is correct either.
I’ve been in this game twenty-odd years.
Do you think a woman who’s been dead for that long could affect me now? ”
As a scientist with just the facts, no. But as an observer doctor and friend, he’d watched Jed McNeil in and out of COMCEN, in and out of relationships, moving through countless women as assignments and moving on with nary an emotional exchange.
He seemed to like to end things before they truly started.
Nikki Taylor came to mind again.
Kirkland turned to study Helen Roston, still lying on the examining table. She was yawning.
“Boy, this place is no five-star hotel, for sure, Derek,” she complained. “Lousy food service and horrible bed. Jed had better show up with food soon or he won’t get a tip.”
“The cafeteria food isn’t bad.”
Helen wrinkled her nose. “Yeah, but you hadn’t been planning on dining with an admiral,” she said.
Kirkland smiled. So there had been plans.
Yes, all signs pointed to Jed McNeil wanting Helen Roston. He’d always suspected it, of course, what with Jed’s obsession with watching the woman on camera, studying her even while she slept in her quarters.
He’d keep an eye on this to see where it was going. Usually, once an assignment was over, Jed would disengage himself without a problem.
A knock at the door. Someone appeared with a tray of food.
“I was told to bring this up for Agent Roston,” the young man said, looking at Helen. “That would be you, right?”
“Duh. You just won the lottery.” Helen sniffed the air. “I have a suspicion Jed sent you because he’s too cowardly to bring it to me himself. Is it that bad?”
The man set the tray at the foot of the bed. “Edible. Personal opinion, of course.”
“Thanks, anyway.” She reached for the food. After he left, she turned to Kirkland and growled, “I still think he’s a coward. I wish I had time to play with the VR avatar program. I’d make him dickless. It’s what he deserves.”
Kirkland couldn’t help smiling at the thought. “I’m going to get everything ready. Be right back,” he said. “Derek, prepare the Portal program.”
Outside the room, in spite of himself, Kirkland’s smile widened into a grin. He had a feeling it wouldn’t be easy for Jed to disengage himself from Helen Roston.