Chapter 2

Posted: August 22, 2006 - 09:10:45 pm

It wasn't as simple as I thought it would be. They still did not want to let me go, but now I was being tested for my 'supposed' talent. I spent the night in their lock-up, and next day they moved me to another facility. This time they didn't cuff me, and I had my own clothes; but I had the impression I could not leave. I was still not free to go.

I sighed.

The new destination was about a two-hour drive away. We went to a facility that could deal directly with supposed 'scientific oddities'. There, they could test the veracity of my claim. Now that, I could understand. They must have nutcases popping out of the woodwork, claiming all kinds of things. I was very resentful, though, and bitter over my treatment of the day before.

When we got there, breakfast was waiting. We had started out at Oh-Dark-Thirty, so I was hungry. The meal was actually pretty good. Scrambled eggs, pancakes, sausage, and coffee. I was given an opportunity to clean up.

While I was not placed in a cell of any sort, there was no way I was leaving this place, without being released. Talk about secure!

Yesterday, I had briefly talked with my attorney. She said that a new situation had arisen, with the announcement of my talent. I should give the government a chance to prove my claims.

She had lobbied for my immediate release, but the agents had said no. They claimed they needed to verify my statement of ability. Which, they said, was what I was doing here.

They could only hold me so long without charging me though, so today was make or break for them, as far as I was concerned. I mentioned to my attorney my dad's theory about holding me as a material witness. My attorney said that I had come in, and started this voluntarily. Material witness orders were only granted by judges. They were for compelling a reluctant witness, usually; and that was just to testify, at a trial. If they went that route, she was sure she could quash it, quickly.

During the ride, I had checked in on Mom and Dad. They were both in bed, but the computer mom used for her work was gone. Looks like the government had taken it away from them. Looking for possible 'terrorist information', I guessed.

I could not check the rest of the house, as both my parents were in bed, sleeping. My talent locked onto people, not places. I could look around in the room that person was in, but that was all I could see.

I said as much as they started questioning me. I didn't mention my telekinesis ability. I was already having problems with the people in the government dealing with a possible psychic person, in the first place. One problem at a time! Anyway, my other talent might come in handy in the future.

"Ok, Scott. I am Dr. Donaugh, and my colleague is Dr. Santiago. We have set up several test situations for you, assuming you can do as you claim."

I sighed, and nodded.

What followed, was several hours of me doing 'remote viewing', while I described what was going on at a given place, after I connected with someone. I related how many people were around the person in question, and what his/her surroundings were. They wanted details, and I gave them.

I started getting tired after three hours of constant work, and said I had to stop. I think they were also interested in seeing how long I could continue, as they asked me to keep going just a little longer. I said no, that I couldn't. They marked something in their notes, and said they would get with my investigators concerning the test results.

I just nodded, and leaned back with my eyes closed.

"Tired?" my primary investigator asked me.

"Mentally exhausted. It takes a lot of energy to do that. I could use a snack, about now," I admitted.

"Well, come with me, and we will get you something to eat. Your status is a little up in the air, right now. This is a first for us, to tell you the truth," Eric told me.

I nodded, and groaned to my feet. I did not have to fake the stiffness I felt, as my knees creaked when I rose. I studied agent Eric Patterson while we moved through a labyrinth of halls.

"How do you mean?" I asked curiously.

"Well, normally it is 'procedure'. We get you, we treat you in a specific way. This usually includes handcuffs when moving, and restricted freedom by confinement to a cell, when you're not being questioned. Standard procedure, really.

"New orders came down, though. You really shook the powers with your demonstration yesterday, and they want you treated as a... uh, 'guest'... involuntarily though you might feel. That's why your clothes were returned, and no cuffs. The final decision on your status is up to them. It could change back," Eric warned me.

I nodded. I was taken to a lunchroom of sorts. We got a meal, which Eric paid for. I dug in. I was eating another full meal. Eric watched me, amused.

"You're as skinny as a rail. Where the hell do you put it all?" he asked chuckling.

"I expend a hell of a lot of energy..."

He interrupted me, saying, "First rule, don't talk about what you do with anyone not cleared. This is not the place," he said seriously.

I nodded understanding.

After finishing my second breakfast, we returned to the office area. I found myself waiting in a conference type room, locked, of course. I was bored, really. I leaned back in my chair, and actually fell asleep for a while.

While I had used a lot of energy doing the testing for those two doctors, I could have kept going. I didn't think there was any harm in holding a little back, though. The nap did wonders for me.

I woke up to the door opening. Three people entered the room. The clock on the wall insisted I had napped for a little over an hour.

"Ah, Mr. Garner. I am Assistant Regional Director Lashman. You know Mr. Patterson. The other gentleman is Mr. Weissman. I have been reading the results of your tests with incredulity!

"You test out one hundred percent valid, Sir. Not even a stumble, and no one except two people knew what the testing comprised. Simply a fascinating ability you have," he paused.

He opened a large thick manila envelope he had, and pulled out about an inch's worth of stapled bunches of papers.

"This is what we have discovered about you young man. Interesting reading, if a little boring. No offense to you, but you have led a very unremarkable life. Average grades through school, with only a few above average scores. You have not gone to college at all, nor attempted to take courses at a community college.

"I see you have a part time job at a hardware store. Just what do you see yourself doing? Are you satisfied with your life?" he asked me.

I stared at him.

"Well, I thought to help my government with the terrorist problem. I have a peculiar ability, which allows me to see a person that I study, and have at least a photo of. As for my work record, my parents have been on me about getting a real job," I admitted, "But so far nothing has really appealed to me," I finished.

"I see. You do know that your record would make it difficult for you to get a good job? You don't seem to show initiative, you are not particularly outgoing. You seem to be an introvert, happy to stay in the background to the point of obscurity.

"We have checked you out fairly well. You have no passport, so could not have left the country to develop ties with any exterior terrorist group. Your time and where-abouts seem to be accounted for, from your high school graduation, to today.

"It usually takes several days to several weeks to do a detailed report on someone; but we put a lot of agents, and resources, into looking you over. In all honesty, the only thing that makes you appealing to us, is your ability. We would never consider hiring you, even for custodial work," he said as he looked at me.

"I wasn't applying for a job. Just passing on information. I have a job, whether you approve of it, or not. And my living conditions are my business, not yours," I replied a bit cheekily.

Lashman laughed a huge laugh.

"Ah, Mr. Garner! I admire your stance, if not the sentiments behind them. The US government cannot afford to let you fall into a foreign intelligence agency's hands. There are countries out there that would give their eyeteeth, first born, and right arms for control of you. I'm afraid that now that the so-called 'cat' is out of the bag, you're stuck with us. Likewise, we are stuck with you. Welcome to Homeland Security! I will leave Mr. Weissman to explain how this will work. Welcome aboard," he said.

He got up and left the room, while leaving the envelope behind.

My mouth gaped open in stunned surprise. I looked at the two people sitting across from me.

"Come now, Garner. It won't be so bad. You will have to go through a period of training, though. Nothing to strenuous, and you will be paid at a consulting fee of five thousand dollars per consultation. We expect a big bang for those dollars, by the way," Weissman told me, looking at me over his glasses.

I started doing my fish imitation, again.

"During the training phase, you will receive one thousand dollars a week, 'till completion of the course requirements. Minimum requirements for this training, is about ninety days.

"Since you are not really being trained as a field operative, there are certain aspects of training you can forgo. However, you should really think about learning a second language, to help you with your career. You're being paid the base fee as a consultant. If you were better qualified, you can up that a bit," Weissman told me.

"But, I didn't say I was taking the job," I said plaintively.

"Garner, get real. There is no way the US government is going to let you run around, with your ability, unmonitored. That's number one. Number two; we plan on using you, and using you hard, in the near future. You will be controlled and directed, or you will remain a guest of the government, indefinitely. Your choice," Weissman paused staring at me.

"Can I talk this over with my parents at least?" I queried.

"You're over eighteen and able to sign a legally binding contract. Your parents do not enter the equation. However, you can retain a contract lawyer if you feel safer with one," Weissman said.

Damn it! I felt like I was being railroaded! True, it was more money than I had ever made in my life, or would be likely to make; but being forced to work for someone, or else? It smacked of slavery.

"Somehow, being told I will either work with you or become a prisoner, does not sit very well. I thought slavery was illegal in this country?" I asked bitterly

Eric sighed. "Scott, think. It isn't slavery, really. Yes, it seems you are being coerced a bit now, but it can be a good deal. Even as a consultant you can get health coverage from us. We would probably insist on it anyway, most likely.

"These are extraordinary times, and certain measures are allowed. Yes, sometimes a particular individuals rights are curtailed. It is for the good of all, if you think about it. While this emergency exists, there are people who can help out, and actually make a difference. Well, don't you want to make a difference?" Eric asked me.

It was appealing to say the least. They were waving more money under my nose than I could realistically make without putting in twenty years somewhere else. I DID want to make a difference, which is why I had sent them the information on that terrorist.

While Eric had been talking, Weissman had been pulling out forms and another smaller envelope that was still sealed. My personal effects envelope.

"We have filled in all pertinent information on the application form, security clearance request, and the insurance form. You will be billed for the insurance, at about sixty-four dollars a month, as your portion of the co-pay. The background check has already been done. That requirement is met. You may have your attorney look these over. You will see that they are standard contracts, with only minor differences," Weissman said.

I took all the forms, signed for my effects after checking them. We all stood up.

"Your attorney is waiting for you in the lobby of this building. You will be escorted to her, and released into her custody. Have those forms signed and present them to your local field office no later than Tuesday. Today is Sunday. Wednesday we will revoke your deal, if you have not complied.

"By the way, present the forms in person, no exceptions. Ignore the mail in address. Welcome to Homeland Security. Agent Patterson will escort you, with your release papers, to your attorney."

With that, he shook my hand briskly, and walked out the door.

Agent Patterson, Eric, started us off. He led me through a myriad of corridors and halls. I was lost all the time. At several stops, he worked a combination on security doors. Nope, I would never have gotten out of this place, without an escort.