Second That Emotion
by
Latikia
Copyright © 2006
Chapter 35
The hearing room was much larger than I thought it would be, but looked pretty much like they do on CSPAN and the news. Apart from the four of us, the place was empty. The aide showed us to the table that had been set up for us before the inverted U shaped formation of tables and leather upholstered swivel chairs that would be occupied by Senators and Congressmen. I got the distinct impression that we were supposed to be some kind of floor show.
Dr. Wills sat in the centermost chair and Mr. Jones sat on his left, opening the briefcase he’d been carrying and removing a rather thick set of folders and handing them to the Doctor.
I occupied myself by walking the inner circumference of the opposition’s tables noting who was sitting where. I paid particular attention to two of the names on the little name plates before each microphone. I’d never seen Mortenson or Bustamante before, at least not that I was aware of, and I wanted to be sure I had the right folks in my sights before pulling the trigger…so to speak.
Two men came in, dressed in dark suits; one with a small hand held radar dish and the other with an electronic box and a set of Mickey Mouse earphones on his head. They moved around the room slowly, the one with the dish sweeping it around aiming at the walls and ceiling while the second tinkered with the dials and buttons on the box. Satisfied with what they had or hadn’t found they left and we were alone again.
“What time will they begin arriving?” I asked, facing the empty seats.
“Shortly. The higher ranking and more important they are, the later they’ll be. It may take a while in this case since we’re dealing with two separate sub-committees from the two sides of the Congress. The Senate Investigations subcommittee is hosting, so they’ll want to be the last to enter, but the House Intelligence Policy subcommittee won’t want to be shown up, even though they’ll have to give in. There are thirteen members on the Senate side, seven from the majority party and six from the minority. The House subcommittee has eight members, five majority and three minority members. At least that’s how it stood the last time I met with them. It might have changed for all I know.”
A somewhat hidden door opened behind the center stretch of table and a handful of men entered, talking to each other in animated fashion, followed by a pair of younger women and a cluster of much older men. They spread out slightly, each heading to their designated seat with little in the way of uncertainty or awkwardness. For them it was a dance they’d all performed many times before and not one failed to hit their mark at the proper time.
As each one sat down they began to take notice of who else was in the room with them, most especially they began to notice me. The muttering started and got louder when I unbuttoned my jacket and the twin shoulder holsters became more obvious. But it got quiet very quickly when the final two people entered and shut the door behind them.
She was a striking woman, probably in her early fifties but looking fifteen years younger thanks to money, makeup, a personal trainer and one of the finest plastic surgeons on the west coast. Senator Wilma Mortenson was an imposing figure, with her broad shoulders, long legs, small waist and the most natural looking silicone implants money could buy. Her dark hair, with its streaks of iron gray, did nothing to detract from her looks. In fact it enhanced them, but it was her penetrating green eyes that caught my attention. Hard and cold, unforgiving and hostile while giving every impression of humanity.
But as impressive as she was, it was the man who came in with her that drew most of my attention.
He was tall, a couple of inches shorter than myself, looked to be in excellent shape for a man in his late fifties, perhaps thirty pounds lighter than I, but he moved very well, almost athletically. His hair was thinning somewhat, but he still had a full head of silver shot dark brown curls that lay on his head like lamb’s wool. He looked like a combination of Lou Diamond Phillips and a young Vincent Price. His face was familiar…he reminded me of someone and it began tormenting my mind.
The two of them stared at me while I stood staring at them. I backed up, never taking my eyes off them, and took up a position standing behind the Doctor and Mr. Jones.
The two late arrivals took their seats and Senator Mortenson immediately took control of things.
“Just a brief reminder to all members of this joint Senate/Congressional subcommittee that anything you may see or hear is highly classified and NOT to be discussed outside this chamber. Also, no recording devices are to be turned on. The only record of this meeting will be made by the stenographer. Dr. Wills…you have the joint meeting you wanted so badly. Would you mind telling us why you felt it was necessary?”
“Senator Mortenson, members of the Senate and House, as you well know the purview of my office within the Central Intelligence Agency has always been the detection and elimination of foreign agents, or moles as the movies like to call them, before they can do any significant damage to our national security. I have, within the past two months, come across evidence that points to, shall we say, more indigenous forms of espionage and corruption.”
Congressman Bustamante leaned towards the microphone in
front of him. “Would this have anything
to do with the recent death of the CIA Director and the acting Director’s
sudden coma?”
Damnit! I knew that voice too. It was deep, not quite a bass but pretty close. But where had I heard it before? I linked with Bustamante and Mortenson.
She was as cold in her emotions as her outward appearance suggested. Pompous, arrogant, self-important, heartless, conniving, conceited, egotistical, self-righteous and greedy…very, very greedy.
He had many of the same emotions and emotional states, but there was a level of aggressiveness in him that, while rigidly controlled, was straining to break free and run amok.
“Congressman, it might well have something to do with those two unfortunate events, however they lie outside my area of professional interest.”
“Dr. Wills, do you mean to tell me you believe the Director’s death to have been a natural one?” Senator Mortenson was politely snarling.
“As I said before, Senator, those events lie outside my area of professional interest. My department is charged with tracking down internal security problems. To the best of my knowledge, neither of the sad events you mentioned has been determined to be anything other than a natural occurrence. Unless of course you know something I don’t.”
“Doctor, there are a great many things I know that you do not.” she smirked.
I began slipping strong feelings of guilt into them both, wrapping the new and somewhat foreign emotion around her greed and his aggressiveness, forging them into more powerful emotions.
“I’m sure you believe that, Senator.” Dr. Wills said deadpan.
“This new espionage you spoke of Doctor, have you been able to trace its source?” one of the younger female committee members asked politely.
“No, I have not. However, my young protégé has.”
“Protégé, Doctor?” the woman asked.
“As I hope you will recall, it is a special prerogative of my unique position that I, and only I, select and train my eventual successor. And just as I am only responsible to your two sub-committees, and not to the politically appointed Director of the CIA, my protégé is responsible only to me and no one else.”
“When can we meet this man? I assume he is a man?”
“Yes ma’am. He is a man. And I’ll be more than happy to introduce him to you, in due course. But the problem is that while hunting down the sources of the espionage I mentioned, there have been several attempts made on his life. There have also been illegal warrants issued for his arrest. Issued by, I should like to point out, the individuals we suspect to be our espionage agents.”
I felt a slight increase in Mortenson’s heart rate and a rapid fluttering from Bustamante. I amped up the guilt and continued to weld it to their individual feelings. But in addition to the guilt I started to add in low levels of lust to Bustamante’s flow and early stage orgasm to the Senator’s.
Both of them began looking more than a little flushed as beads of sweat broke out across both their foreheads. They shifted uncomfortably in their seats.
“The essential details of this case are all in my initial
report, copies of which I will have distributed to each of you in a
moment. I’ll summarize the contents of
that report. There was a mole discovered
within my own office, feeding information to an external source. The mole has been quarantined and a full
confession extracted. With information
from this mole, one of the suspected agents made no fewer than two attempts to
kidnap my successor. The second agent,
using resources garnered from within the CIA itself as well as former employees
of the FBI and the Department of Defense, made no fewer than three attempts to kill him. All the particulars of our investigation are
included in the report. If you would be
so kind as to distribute these
Dr. Wills handed me a stack of file folders. I took them in hand and began passing them out to the committee members. When I reached Mortenson and Bustamante I handed them their files and upped the amplitude of the guilt I was sending. Looking into his eyes I saw something there that caused an image to flash across my mind for an instant. It might have been the arrogance in him, or the feelings of superiority he harbored, but I finally realized why he looked so familiar.
I finished passing out the folder, returned and taking a seat behind Mr. Jones I leaned forward and whispered to him.
“Is Congressman Bustamante married?”
He turned to look at me, puzzlement written large across his face. “No, divorced. His wife was a Colombian refugee…damn, what was her name? Cruz. That was it. Josephina Cruz-Bustamante. Mean something to you?”
“Yeah, I think so. Our buddy up there is the father of the man who was making my sister’s life a living hell. And the son had ties to the Colombian drug cartels.”
Jones’ face went hard. “That makes things rather interesting.”
“Yeah, doesn’t it?”
I sat back in my chair, and Mr. Jones turned back to face the committee.
“Doctor, this is all quite disturbing. You fail, however, to name the individuals you suspect of being behind this…abuse of authority is the best way I can think to describe it.” said one of the junior congressmen.
“Congressman, there is a valid reason for not naming those two individuals, which I’ll get to momentarily. I would first like to offer up a hypothetical situatition for the members of your committees to consider.”
Mr. Jones leaned towards the Doctor and whispered something in his ear. Wills nodded his understanding.
“Ladies and gentlemen, let’s assume for the moment that
there are two highly placed members of the
I began to increase the sexual level of the emotional flow I was sending to the Congressman and the Senator, and at the same time I started to create forged rings of the emotions, hard and unbreakable. And to make it even more interesting, I linked them with one another. Using Lilly’s suggestion for Anya and Mr. Jones, I created a third ring that connected their individual rings, forming a short chain. The third one I built out of a combination of superiority, arrogance and passion, feeding it with strands of their own emotions.
Congressman Bustamante began tugging at his tie, loosening it and the top button of his shirt. Senator Mortenson undid the top two buttons of her silk blouse, exposing a considerable amount of surgically enhanced cleavage.
Dr. Wills continued speaking. “Now let us consider something rather more unpleasant. These hypothetical members of the
I saw the light begin to dawn on some of the faces before me. As they began to comprehend, Senator Mortenson and Congressman Bustamante squirmed in their seats.
“What better way to control the CIA than by appointing someone willing to follow their lead, or better yet, one of them?”
Senator Mortenson had enough self control remaining to jump in here.
“Dr. Wills, are you suggesting that the late Director was in league with these ‘hypothetical’ agents?”
“I am Senator. In
point of fact, we have a witness who confirms that the former Director acted
illegally, conducting black operations within the borders
of the
“Where is this witness, Doctor? Where is the proof of these accusations?” she demanded loudly.
“Senator, would you agree with me that the only way these ‘hypothetical’ agents could ever be indicted or convicted of their crimes would be a full public confession?”
“Doctor, a good lawyer would have even a public confession tossed out of court.”
“Then we are agreed, at least on this point. Which is why I will not bring my witnesses here to testify. What would be the point?”
“Let me see if I understand this” began a junior Senator from the minority party, “you brought all of us here together to tell us about a criminal conspiracy within the government, but you are unable or unwilling to give us hard evidence?”
Dr. Wills smiled. “That pretty well sums it up Senator. You see, an additional part of my problem is that while my department discovered this conspiracy, we are not allowed by law to deal with it. We hunt spies and moles within the CIA. We are not the FBI. We have almost no budget, no personnel and no mandate from the government. On top of which, what with former agents of the FBI actively involved in these operations, we cannot rely on the FBI to follow up on our information.”
I removed my shoes and socks, much to the amazement of a couple of committee members on the sidelines, and removed the taped pebbles from my feet then put my socks and shoes back on. Standing up I hammered Mortenson and Bustamante with a flash of pure hatred. She screamed and he nearly fell back out of his chair. Those sitting nearest to them looked on with open curiosity and alarm.
“Ladies and Gentlemen, Senators and Congressmen, allow me to
introduce you to my Deputy, Sergeant Ike Blacktower. Sergeant Blacktower has worked with Army CID
and was recently with our forces in
Removing the twin Glocks from their holsters I placed them on the table in front of Mr. Jones. He nodded his understanding of my gesture. I walked forward and planted myself in front of Mortenson and Bustamante. The Senator, still squirming in her seat, stared back at me with disdain. I ignored her and focused on the Congressman.
“I wouldn’t want anyone to think that I was extracting information under duress.” I said softly. “I believe, Congressman Bustamante, that you were at one time married to a woman named Josephina Cruz, a Colombian national who sought political asylum in this country. You wouldn’t happen to have a son from that marriage by the name of Richard Cruz, would you? Used to own a night club called ‘Cruz Control’?”
He nodded warily. I smiled broadly at the man.
“How is dear Ricky these days? Last time I saw him he was frothing at the mouth like a rabid dog and trying to bash his brains out on the dance floor of his club.”
I stepped forward and put my hand over his microphone. I leaned down and put my face very close to his.
“He screamed for a long, long time. If you don’t want to end up just like him, I would suggest you answer my questions, loudly and honestly.”
I stood up and backed up a step or two, keeping the two of them in my line of sight and cranked up the amplification of the guilt I was feeding them.
“Congressman, you have a son named Richard, yes or no?”
“Yes.”
“Your son owned and operated a night club called ‘Cruz Control’, yes or no?”
“Yes.”
“Your son was an importer and distributor of cocaine from the Colombian drug cartels, yes or no?”
“Yes.”
“And you, congressman, using your position as a high ranking government official and your influence on this subcommittee, would provide your son and his illegal operation with protection and information, yes or no?”
He clamped his lips shut and glared at me. I slammed a huge chunk of raw agony down his link and held it next to the amplifying center ring. He and the Senator created an atrocious feedback loop which set every nerve in their bodies on fire. The pain was so intense that all they could do was stiffen in their seats and shudder, jaws clamped and teeth grinding together. After a count of fifteen I released them.
“Yes or no congressman?” I repeated.
Tears rolled down his face.
“Yes.” he choked out.
“Yes what?” I prompted.
“Yes, I used my position and influence to protect his drug operation and provide him with information.”
The other nineteen members of the two committees sat in stunned silence, watching our little drama play out.
“What exactly did you receive in return for your information and protection?”
“Millions of dollars in untraceable campaign contributions.”
I nodded. “Did you use any of this money to hire former employees of the FBI and order them to kidnap me and three young women?”
The raw hatred for me he was feeling was wonderful. I drained it all, leaving him with his shattered ego and a belly full of guilt and lust.
“YES! I should have had them kill you sonofabitch!!” he screamed at me, his smooth cultured voice broke on the last syllable and he nearly reached the falsetto range.
I nodded slightly and stepped in close. “Did you blackmail a woman by the name of Harrison who worked as the secretary to Dr. Wills, using her to provide you with information on his department’s operations and activities? Yes or no.”
“Yes.”
“One last question congressman, have you been sharing the money you received from your son’s drug operations with anyone else?”
“Yes.” he said bleakly.
“Feel free to go into more detail.” I said, flooding him with guilt.
“Yes, I’ve been sharing the money with Senator Mortenson.”
“Thank you congressman.” I turned my attention on the Senator. Cocking my head slightly to one side I looked closely at her face.
“You wouldn’t happen to be a representative of the same state as Congressman Bustamante, would you Senator?”
“We are from the same state, yes.” she replied coldly. Ahhh, she was made of sterner stuff than her partner.
“You know, I believe the both of you are from my home state. Isn’t that an odd coincidence?”
She eyed me like I was some variety of disgusting insect that had just set foot on her dinner plate.
“Tell me Senator; were you on good terms with the former Director of the CIA?”
“I will not answer your questions, boy!” she snarled.
“No? Not even if I say ‘pretty please’?”
Forming a temporary loop from the girl’s orgasms I laid it over the ring of guilt and greed I’d already given her.
Her eyes shut tightly and she began to moan and groan. She wrapped her arms across her chest and shook violently.
I stepped up and put my hand over her microphone.
“This is what I did to one of the assassins you sent after me. She put up with it for more than an hour before she cracked and she’s much tougher than you are. I cooked one man, burnt another to ashes, and shot several others. I’ve been shot, stabbed and hit with a fuckin’ car you arrogant cunt! You will answer my questions and you will be quick and truthful or I’ll leave you like this till the day you die. Hell, I can make it much worse than this. This is pleasant compared to what I could do to you.”
I stepped back.
“Senator, were you on good terms with the former Director of the CIA, yes or no?”
“Yes!”
“In fact, you used your monetary and political influence to have him appointed and approved as the Director, didn’t you?”
“Yes.”
“Did you use your influence and Mr. Bustamante’s drug money to get the former Director to loan you two CIA assassins? Yes or no?”
“Yes.” she growled.
“Did you use your influence and the congressman’s money to
convince one Captain Rossi, a nurse on the staff of
“Yes!”
“Why did you have Captain Rossi alter and falsify those records?”
“So the two CIA agents could be placed in the hospital as patients.”
“Now why would you want two CIA assassins in a military hospital?” I hit her with some pain to go along with the orgasms. She jerked in her seat and moaned briefly.
“So they could kill you.”
I nodded. “Why did you want me killed?”
“So you couldn’t work for Wills.”
“A little more detail, if you please Senator.”
“My sources in the CIA and FBI told me about how quickly you found his spymaster/murderer. I couldn’t take the chance you’d find out about our controlling these committees to protect his son’s drug connections. You had to go.”
“Why not just try buying me off? Why go to all the trouble of arranging an assassination?”
She snorted loudly, her body still shaking. “I’ve read your military file and your medical records. You’re too damn idealistic…too noble. You weren’t the type to be bought. Once you put an end to Bustamante’s son, we lost our money supply. While I was trying to have you killed, he was trying to capture you, to find out how you’d done whatever it was you did to his boy. We had our chance, but his curiosity cost us the chance to put an end to you once and for all!”
I stepped back a few feet, and looked each and every committee member in the eyes.
“You’ve all heard their confessions. I realize, of course, that none of this will hold up in a court of law, but justice has to be done.”
I poured anger and rage into the three rings I’d created along with huge amounts of lust and desire for him, urgent need and passion for her and locked the rings securely in place.
I turned away, returned the Glocks to their holsters and went back to my seat behind Dr. Wills and Mr. Jones. They eyed me expectantly.
“Watch.” I said quietly.
Have you ever seen dogs in heat? When the urge is on them they don’t care where, they don’t care who. All they know is that they’ve gotta have it.
Senator Mortenson and Congressman Bustamante went into heat; their mutual need amplified and transmitted back and forth between them by the middle ring, making their combined desire and lust into an irrational monster that quickly overwhelmed them.
He tore at her blouse, ripping it open and tearing it off. She pounced on him, straddling his hips and thrusting her exposed cleavage against his face.
I’m no prude, and I’ve seen my share of porn over the years, but the image of those two mature adults going at it like rutting rabbits is not something I care to relive, so I’ll leave it to your imagination.
There are visual images that can easily be described, some that cannot be and a rare few that should never be. Senator Mortenson and Congressman Bustamante locked together in carnal bliss fell into the final category. And they didn’t limit their activities to the committee room. Someone called for Security and when a team of three blue jacketed guards came rushing in the nearly nude couple dashed out the door behind them and disappeared. Before long they were rutting in the carpeted halls of Congress, in the main entryway, and out on the marble steps in full view of the public. The two of them went at it for more than three hours before they finally passed out from exhaustion and were taken into custody.
There wasn’t a news cast in the country that night that didn’t feature highly edited video of the “Congressional Coupling”. Their political careers were effectively destroyed.
I understand they were carted off to some ritzy sanitarium where they had to be kept in different wings of the building. If they got to within pheromone sniffing distance they’d go into a fucking frenzy all over again.
Dr. Wills, Mr. Jones and I packed up, said our goodbyes to the remaining members of the two committees, who promised that the warrants for my arrest would be withdrawn immediately. We took the elevator down to the garage, got in the SUV and drove back to CIA headquarters.