Chapter Ten #2
Helen walked slowly into the restroom. He was right. She needed to refresh herself and get herself ready for the next phase. Her mind was still on Hades, wondering what he was doing now, wondering whether he was as numb as she was, even though she was the one doing all the work.
Her body still tingled when she thought about him.
Her mind felt strangely fragmented, something she’d never experienced after an RV session.
She still couldn’t quite believe what had happened in virtual reality.
For two months, he’d prepared her in the CAVE, mentally pushing her boundaries and testing her, and she’d never once suspected he’d been readying her for that moment when he’d used her body’s reaction to him as a trigger.
After all, it was all virtual reality in her mind.
A dangerous man. She was going to find out who he was, somehow, some way.
Helen looked around quickly as Flyboy wheeled her into the conference room with Dr. Kirkland and Derek behind, holding on to tubes and IVs attached to the chair.
Her group was there, along with T. Watching from above, not unlike one of those surgery rooms, was another group of mostly men, some in uniform, with rows and rows of medals for decoration.
Presumably, those were the designated representatives from the different agencies such as DOD, Army Intel, and NSA who had sent in their candidates.
She could feel their skepticism and curiosity as Flyboy and she approached her group.
Helen decided to go straight to business. “How do we start?” she asked.
De Clerq nodded, then looked up into the gallery.
“You can send in your man with the envelope.” He turned to Helen.
“They have complete control of the envelope to ensure noncontamination. It contains the specific target they had set for you. We’d agreed that once you’ve written down what you deem is the target, then we’ll open and read the contents of the envelope.
If your answer is the same as the information in there, then they’ll let us handle the rest of the operation our way. ”
“You mean I get to play Jeopardy?” Helen asked dryly. “Write my answer and hope the question in the envelope corresponds?”
De Clerq smiled. “Something like that.”
“Do they have any say over the operation?” She eyed the group above them again. They were listening in, of course. “Or are they just my cheering and adoring fans?”
Flyboy pulled out a chair and sat down. “As you can all see, our girl’s sense of humor is still intact.”
“May I ask why she can’t walk?” a voice said over the intercom. They looked up and a tall man signaled that it was him asking the question. “I’ve seen remote viewers going through downtime and they fared better than Miss Roston.”
“Our program is more intensive,” Dr. Kirkland replied.
“The effects of biotechnology are unpredictable and since I’m monitoring Miss Roston’s vitals and reactions, I wanted her to stay as still as possible after her session so I can get a clearer chart of her physical condition before and after drug administration. ”
Oooh, good cover. Helen managed not to grin at Flyboy who winked. She was going to behave. After all, she was on contract and worth…oh…millions to these people.
“I see,” the voice said. “Then let’s proceed.”
Someone else entered the room. Helen assumed it was the person with the envelope.
“Miss Roston, ready?” De Clerq asked.
“Sure,” Helen said. She picked up the pen by her pad.
Make it simple or go into details? She decided simple.
The brass just wanted confirmation that she was for real.
She handed over the piece of paper to the nearest person to pass, and added, “This is the target, along with location. If you want to know more, just ask questions.”
“Thank you,” De Clerq said. He took the piece of paper and read it out loud. “The target is an electronic key card that appears to be used to find passwords. It is currently in the possession of two people. The key is now at a building called Deutsche International. Your turn, Mr. Su.”
The man tore open the envelope in his hand and read, “The stolen data transfer key, SEED. Where are the thieves, Jack and Julie Cummings? Here are the photos of the two of them.”
Helen looked at them. They were the couple she saw in the RV session. Yeah, the names resonated. So, they stole the key. That explained the electronic bank transaction before the key was handed over to the other men.
“I would say that’s as close to a hundred percent accuracy as one could get, sirs,” De Clerq said.
“We still don’t have possession of the key to prove that her information is correct. How long will part two of this operation take? How will she know what it looks like?”
“It starts as soon as Miss Roston is ready. A plane is on standby for Germany and you’ll be informed when the operation is completed,” De Clerq said.
“And if Miss Roston fails to return with the key?” another voice added.
Helen looked up, trying to guess who the speaker was.
It was tough since they all appeared to have a microphone button by their seats.
“I know where it is.” She addressed all of them, since she couldn’t identify the person.
“If it’s still in that building and I can get access to that room, I’ll get the key.
I know what it looks like. It’s getting to it that will be the problem. ”
“So how do you propose to get it? We can’t have our people storming a building overseas,” a high-ranking official pointed out.
“That’s the problem with these experiments.
We can’t risk lives and reputation for something that depends on one person’s say-so, especially when the information isn’t gotten through accountable means.
This looking around in some kind of altered state smacks of bad science fiction, if you ask me. ”
This must be one of the men who had decided not to do anything about the Intel the CIA remote-viewing program had provided the military.
Generals and commanders didn’t want to be held responsible in case the information turned out to be nothing.
After reading the documents to which she’d been given access, Helen had understood.
Who would want to explain through the chain of command that they were sending out troops and million-dollar equipment because of something a remote viewer said?
“I’m not here to argue with you, sir,” she said quietly. “The government funded this project to train me, so take your beef to the president. And right now, it appears to be my life and reputation that’s on the line.”
She could hear several people clearing their throats and coughing, as if they were amused with her candidness.
She mentally shrugged. She was a civilian; she didn’t have to kowtow to these men in their shiny buttons and talk to them as if they were emperors.
Sure, they were probably very powerful people but she’d learned from experience that powerful people were often the blindest. Flyboy was looking down at his briefing papers and she couldn’t see his face.
She’d bet every dime in her bank account that he was hiding a grin.
“We’ve discussed this already, Jim,” one of the men above them interjected smoothly, “so your point’s been taken into consideration.
Considering that this is a test, I think it’s going marvelously.
Miss Roston’s answers satisfy me and I think we should let CCC proceed with their usual protocol in running an operation.
It’s out of our hands now till it’s over.
Then we’ll evaluate from there. Besides, we all sent out our candidates into the training program and CCC’s won.
Unless, of course, you have a complaint against the very training program on which we, including yourself, have voted for and approved, Jim? ”
“Of course not, Tom,” the other man said.
“Then let them do their job. Mr. De Clerq, you can proceed. Please call our respective offices when your operation is completed. I’ve already informed mine to take your call no matter what time it comes in.”
“Thank you, Admiral Madison,” De Clerq said.
“Good luck, Miss Roston.”
Helen looked at the man addressing her. He sounded much nicer than the other brassheads. Tall, maybe fifty-something-ish, he looked trim and dashing, unlike the usual bulky-looking guys in uniform.
“Thank you, sir,” she said. Wow, killer smile. She smiled back.
As she watched them file out from the viewing room above, an electronic curtain moved silently across the glass, shutting out the view like a window. She counted about a dozen people up there.
“Good job, Hell,” Flyboy said. “Good comeback to the snooty head of the department, too.”
Helen grinned at him. “I didn’t hear you helping me out. You were too busy swallowing your tongue.” She turned to T. “You were pretty damn quiet, too, Miss Montgomery.”