Chapter 6

January 16, 2015:

The moment I stepped through security, first our minds, then our eyes locked onto each other. In appearance, she wasn't at all what I was expecting. Somehow, I had a mental image of a matronly woman in a business suit and sensible shoes, perhaps somewhat masculine in appearance. I missed it by a mile.

She may not have been a fashion model in her past, but she could have been. She was tall, around five-ten, slim as a willow but nicely shaped. I got the business suit part right, but it was very fashionable and fit her perfectly, accenting all the right places. Short, red hair and a dusting of freckles across her nose gave her a slightly girlish appearance, but that was her only concession to innocence. She was a woman who exuded confidence and commanded respect.

As I approached, she stuck her hand out and smiled, "Chuck, it's a pleasure! And thanks for the compliment."

Close up, I could see by the tiny wrinkles around her eyes and mouth that she was probably in her late forties or early fifties. I took her hand and asked, "Compliment?"

My question got a laugh. "Sorry, I couldn't help but tune in to your quick appraisal of me. Assessing first impressions is an old habit I have no intention of giving up."

"And probably a very good one. I guess I was expecting to see someone a little more, um, institutional. At any rate, it's a pleasure to meet you Willa. All my baggage was carry-on, so we can bypass the baggage claim."

"Fine, follow me then, and I'll get you to your hotel."

On the way to her car, she said, "That thing with Frank Austin was unfortunate. I understand Donald and Sarah's feelings toward the man, but manipulating his death was over the top. It certainly caused a kerfuffle in the office. Fortunately, they still think it was a suicide."

"Yeah, well, that's a good thing, isn't it? I'm still pretty angry about being manipulated into being a part of it. That's what motivated me to get in touch with you. I think we need to work out a different relationship between your office and our people."

"I couldn't agree more, Chuck, and I'm anxious to hear your ideas, but let's get you settled into your room first. The hotel has a very nice restaurant, so I thought we could meet there for dinner around seven, if that suits. Until then, let's hold off on the shop talk."

"That works for me. I appreciate your taking the time to hear me out."

If she stood out from the crowd in a business suit, she was stunning as she entered the restaurant in a knee-length, navy blue two-piece and high heels. The low-cut neckline offered a modest but enticing hint of cleavage. No doubt she worked very hard to keep herself looking that good. I felt underdressed in my tweed sport coat and Dockers.

I was already seated when she arrived and spotted me near the window. I stood to greet her and hold her chair. The waiter took our order for white wine and left menus for us to study. He came back a couple of minutes later and took our dinner orders.

As he walked away from the table, I asked, "So, Willa, can you tell me what you do for the NSA, or is everything there a secret?"

"There's a lot of secrecy, of course, but not so much about what I do. I'm a systems analyst, and it's about as exciting as it sounds. It's a good job, though, and it pays very well. I understand you're the CFO for a genetic research facility."

"That's right. It's a good company and they've treated me well. I hope to be with them for a long time." I wasn't confident of how secure our conversation was, so I slipped into her mind and asked, "Am I correct in assuming none of your peers are aware of your special ability?"

She followed suit. "That's right. For obvious reasons, I'd be too great a security risk. But don't worry; it's safe to talk here."

"Thanks for that." Aloud, I asked, "Is there any one person you know of who might be willing to discuss some areas of mutual benefit? Obviously, some of your people know about us. I just wonder if we're uniformly considered to be some kind of a threat to national security."

"Before we get into that, why don't you tell me what you have in mind?"

I took a sip of my wine, leaned back in my chair and thought about it for a few moments before answering. "Well, I don't know the whole history of the tussle between the feds and our people, but I can't help wondering how we wound up being natural enemies, so adversarial. Frankly, it makes no sense to me at all. Logic tells me we should be working together, since our abilities are an incredible resource and could be used to a positive end. Seems to me we could provide an invaluable service, given the appropriate task and under the right circumstances."

She smiled and raised her glass in agreement. "My sentiments, exactly! The issue is, how and to whom do we begin to float that idea? Well, I've been thinking about it, and I think I've come up with a plan to at least begin a discussion. You can't just walk into our offices and announce yourself, of course, but maybe I can set up a way for you to communicate with someone who has the ear of the Director. I think I can do it and protect your identity."

"Hmm, how can you do that and still protect your own secret? I'm not willing to put you at risk."

"You let me worry about that. Why don't you tell me what you think we special people can do for our country?"

We were sparring, dancing around the core issues until we could feel completely comfortable with each other. Her mind felt good, but she was a pro, and there was a possibility she might have split loyalties. "A lot, but before we breach that subject, what can you tell me about what happened to the three people who disappeared a few years ago. That's the big unsolved mystery that ultimately cost Frank Austin his life, and kept the rest of us ducking for cover. Until we have answers to that question, I can't see any of us getting too close to the feds, can you?"

"No. The thing is, I've poke around in several agent's minds over the years, and I've yet to find anyone who has direct knowledge of those people or their fate. And here's something we need to consider: The fact that they disappeared doesn't automatically mean they were eliminated. In fact, my intuition tells me that they're not dead, that they've been relocated somewhere. Summary execution is just not the way the agency works."

"In that case, why haven't they made mental contact with us, or at least let their families know something."

"Yeah, well, that worries me, too. This is wild speculation on my part, but I wonder if their special ability has been neutralized, some how. Maybe they've been physically or psychologically altered so that they no longer have any extrasensory function. But, hey! Like I said, wild speculation."

That made no sense at all to me, unless...

"Willa, just how rare does the NSA think this ability is?"

"That's a key question, Chuck. They're convinced it's practically nonexistent. They don't have a clue that there are thousands of us around the world. That's why they put Austin on the payroll, to ferret out those rare birds."

"Well then, that's also the answer, isn't it?"

"What do you mean?"

I went mental, "That's our negotiating tool! They can't possibly locate us all and neutralize our abilities, but they don't know that! Willa, you need to set up that meeting. I'm going to round up one or two more people to work on this project."

January 17, 2015:

I caught a flight back to Denver this morning, arriving early enough that I could still put in half a day at the office. After dinner last night, Willa and I spent nearly three hours in my room discussing how and when I might be able to communicate directly with a senior member of the NSA staff. She never said how she was going to manage that without exposing herself to close scrutiny. The time was spent deciding just how I was going to convince him to work with us to establish a new, more functional relationship.

I called Carol from the office to tell her I was back in town and asked if we were on for dinner. She agreed to do the honors.

Late in the afternoon, before I headed home, I contacted Ellen to feel her out about what I was up to. I had to be careful not to reveal too much. She's a good woman and I know she likes me, but I have no illusions about where her loyalties lie. If I'm going to enlist her as an ally, I'll have to have a solid program worked out.

I found her at home watching the tube. "Hey, Ellen! Is it OK to interrupt your evening?"

There was a long silence. "I just might be, Chuck. We sure as hell ain't made much progress so far, have we; I mean sinking to eliminating our enemy like we did. I'd like to hear what you got in mind, but you understand I ain't turnin' on my own, don't ya? And if you're askin' me to be part of the negotiations, I'm not very good at that kind of stuff. I don't know what I could throw into the pot that'd be of any help."

Carol met me at my door with a snifter of cognac in her hand and not very much at all on her body. Dinner was late.

January 19, 2015:

Willa contacted me. "Chuck, can you be here in D.C. Friday afternoon?"

January 23, 2015:

I got back to Ellen and set it up right after I heard from Willa. I arrived at the airport first and waited for Ellen's plane to arrive an hour later. The airfare was going to be a hardship for her so I sprung for all her expenses; the least I could do for what I was asking of her.

We took a cab to the hotel and got checked into our rooms. Our appointment with Freiburg wasn't until four PM, so we had a chance to brainstorm before Willa arrived.

"So here's how I thought we'd go after this guy," I said as I poured coffee for both of us. "Willa's got fifteen minutes blocked out on his day planner for us to do our thing. Freiburg has no idea what's about to happen, so he may well go into panic mode when we enter his mind. I thought I might mitigate that by calling him just a couple of minutes before the appointment and warning him that he's about to experience some mental communication. I have no idea how he'll deal with that, we can only hope he's a man who knows how to control his emotions.

"We're going to enter his mind at the same time. He needs to understand that there are at least two of us; I don't know if Willa plans to be involved in that aspect or not. I'll do most of the talking, but I want you to feel free to put in anything you feel is relevant and useful. Mostly, I want you to get a read on what's behind his words, try to pick up on any duplicity.

"The main point I want him to understand is that there are far more of us out there than he could ever have believed. That means that any plans to isolate us and pick us off one by one as potential threats are totally futile. That being the case, it's time we began working for a common cause. They can't get rid of us and they can't ignore us, so it's absurd to make us their enemies when we could be allies. What do you think?"

Ellen sipped her coffee and nodded her agreement, "Well, it all makes perfect sense to me, Chuck, but keep in mind we're dealing with government agents here. In my limited experience, people like that tend to go by the book. I just hope to hell this Freiburg guy has a lot more to him than bein' your typical tight-assed bureaucrat."

"Yeah, me too. But Willa picked him for a reason, so we should trust her to know what we need from the guy." I sipped my coffee and paced the room. "Look, Ellen, let's be realistic. Probably the most we can expect out of this meeting of the minds is that he'll have a lot more information about us than he's ever had before, and that it will give him something to ponder. We can't expect anything more than that he'll rethink the agency's policies regarding our kind. After we do our thing today, it'll be up to him to make the next move."

"OK, well say he does! What are we willing to offer if he wants to deal?"

"Yeah, that's the question, isn't it? We'll just have to wait and see how it goes. I remember a character in that old BBC series, "All Creatures Great and Small". There was this farmer up in the Dales talking about how hard it was for him to go the big city, saying he was overwhelmed by the number of people around him. He said he couldn't get going because he'd be taking big steps n' little'uns, big steps n' little'uns. That's how it'll be with us. We'll just have to feel our way along."

Willa knocked on the door at three.

We'd be doing our thing from the hotel room. Before she even took off her coat, she handed me a cell phone and said, "This will be your first contact with him. The number on the speed dial is the private number to his office, bypassing his secretary. Keep your initial message short and sweet, because we don't want to be traced. As soon as you've made your statement, kill the call and I'll destroy the SIM chip. After that, it's mind-to-mind. You're the man with the mental power, so it's going to be you doing the talking."

I took the phone. "It'll be Ellen and I together. You want to join in?"

"Um, no, probably not a good idea. I'm afraid I might let something slip that might be some kind of identifier."

"Sure. But I'd like you to stick around until we're done. Depending on how it goes, you can help us strategize our next move."

"Absolutely!"

For the next hour, we sat around and speculated about how best to get our point across. It needed to be quick but forceful, because he wasn't likely to be all that accepting at first, if at all. I think we were fairly upbeat but cautious about our prospects, and we accepted the likelihood it might be a slow evolution. As the time approached, Ellen needed a slug of whiskey from the bar to settle her nerves. I felt the temptation as well, but resisted. The last thing I needed was a fuzzy brain.

A couple of minutes before four, I went in search of his aura with Willa's help. Ellen stayed right with me and agreed we had the right guy.

At four, sharp, I pushed the number on the speed dial and waited for Freiburg to pick up.

After only one ring: "Yes, Freiburg speaking."

"Mr. Freiburg, I'm calling about your four o'clock appointment."

"Yes?"

"I'm sure you've never experienced this before, but I'm going to contact you mentally. You already know we exist, so just listen to my voice in your mind and think your responses. For obvious reasons, face-to-face contact is too risky for me. I'm hanging up now, so just sit quietly and I'll be with you in a moment."

I killed the phone connection and handed the cell phone to Willa. She popped the back off and removed the SIM chip, dropped it on the wood floor and stomped it with her heel.

Ellen and I pushed through the aura and easily entered Freiburg's mind. He was unaware of us at first, still trying to make sense of what he'd just heard on his phone.

"Mr. Freiburg?"

He was startled. "Huh?"

"Jason Freiburg!"

"Wha-what is this? Who the hell are you?"

Ellen tried to soothe his panic. "Now, just you relax, Mr. Freiburg. We ain't here to do you any harm. We just wanna talk, OK?"

"Who is we? What's your name?"

I picked it up, "All in due time, Mr. Freiburg. We need to cover a couple of issues that are vitally important to all of us; the issues of ESP and telepathy, as you might have already guessed. I can read in your mind that you're already aware of what I'm talking about, so let's not waste any time dancing around it. Your agency has been investigating our people, and you have in fact, abducted three of us. I want to ask why we are considered your enemies and what's happened to the those of us who have disappeared."

I felt his mind scrambling to get us into a live, face-to-face meeting. I interrupted his thoughts, "Uh, uh, Mr. Freiburg. We're not walking into any traps. Did you already forget I'm reading your mind?"

His frustration turned his aura red. "OK, then what do you suggest, whoever you are?"

"I suggest you give this some serious thought. When you come up with some rational approach to an exchange of ideas, one that doesn't involve trying to eliminate us, maybe we can work out a way to begin productive discussions."

I felt him calming down, gaining some self-control. "Very well. I'm willing to meet with you at your convenience and discuss some ways to breach our differences. How would I be able to contact you?"

"You can't. I, or one of our others will pop into your mind from time to time to see if you're serious and if you've made any effort to show some good intentions. Here's a good way to start: Tell me what happened to the three people who disappeared after Frank Austin turned them over to your agents. Until that little mystery is resolved, it's unlikely we'll have much faith in your promises."

There was a long pause. "I'll tell you this much, whoever your are: It wasn't my agency that made those people disappear. It was the CIA. There was an interagency battle over those people and the President didn't come down on our side. Your friends were conscripted to make them a part of an anti-terrorist interrogation team. I honestly don't have any idea what happened to them after that. I'm afraid you'll have to intrude into someone else's thoughts to get that information. You can take this little disclosure as a gesture that we're interested in your ideas. As far as making this thing a reality, I'll have to speak to my superiors. I suggest you get back to me in a couple of days."

"Thank you, Jason, you can count on that. And we definitely intend to poke around in a few CIA brains, as well. I'll be in touch soon."

Ellen signed off, "We sure do appreciated you're cooperation, darlin'. You have a real nice day, now." I wondered if he sensed the down-home Okie-ness of Ellen's comment.

And that was it. I looked at Ellen and Willa, shrugged and said, "I think I'll have a drink now."

The three of us had dinner together. We agreed that it probably went about as well as we could have hoped. At the very least, the idea was out there and being considered. Whether it came to fruition in any way, shape or form remained to be seen.

Willa said she could probably keep mental tabs on Freiburg's moves and to whom he spoke about our proposal. By that, she meant she could pop in and out of his mind to try to pick up enough info to guess which way the wind was blowing. She promised to connect with me the moment she had anything promising.

Before we parted, I asked her to poke around and try to locate anybody in the CIA offices who might be worth probing. She said she'd do her best.

January 25, 2015:

After a brisk run in the park, I took a shower and flopped into my recliner to wade through the Denver Post. Carol was locked up in her study with her computer, catching up on a lot of data base work. She said she'd be busy for the rest of the day, so I volunteered to cook dinner.

After scanning the headlines, checking out the comics and doing the crossword, I lay back in my recliner, soaking up the warm sunshine coming through the glass balcony doors. My eyes were closed and I was probably almost asleep when I sensed a mind buzzing around my periphery. It was easy to recognize.

"What are you up to, Kevin?"

"Sorry, Mr. Duncan. I didn't mean to disturb you. I was just practicing like Ellen told me. But, uh, since we're connected, could I ask you a question?"

"You're not very good at this subtlety thing, are you? Shoot!"

I could feel his hesitation. He seemed to be very uncomfortable. "Well, um, it's about whether something is immoral, you know, like a sin. I can't figure it out. I mean, it's pretty damn hot, but it makes me feel like, oh I don't know, like if I keep doing it, I'm gonna go to hell."

It sounded like he'd been nosing around where he shouldn't be.

"Kevin, why don't you just tell me what's on your mind? Or would you rather I probe your brain and find out for myself?"

A sense of panic blossomed from his aura. "NO! Uh, no, don't do that, Mr. Duncan. I'd be too embarrassed."

I took a deep breath and gave it some thought. The kid really was in a moral pickle, but I sensed he was holding something back. "OK, Kevin. Is this the whole story? Because it sounds to me like a problem you can solve by just stopping what your doing. Maybe it's time you gave up this obsession you have with incest."

I almost laughed, but I caught myself in time. The kid's heart really was in the right place. "Look, Kevin, there may be a way, but you have to understand that your mom and dad have been married long enough that sex may have just become routine, nothing more than a ritual they feel obligated to follow. Having said that, what's going on in the sex department is the kind of stuff divorces are made of. When the spark goes out of the lovemaking, sometimes there's not enough left over to hold the marriage together. I hope that's not the case with your folks, but you have to consider the possibility."

I could feel his hope deflating. "OK, Mr. Duncan. I just thought I'd ask. Sorry to bother you."