Chapter 27: Interrogation is Negotiation

Mrs. Judy Blake was noticeably young, fit and pretty. We met in her office. The first thing Mrs. Blake said was, “Athena sends her love.”

“We didn’t get kidnapped last night,” Billie answered.

“Obviously,” Judy Blake managed to say with a straight face. “I insist that you call me Judy. I’m told that you both can type. Which of you is Jackie?”

“I am,” I admitted.

“Take a steno pad and write down this interview.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Two hours later my steno notes and typed report were being evaluated as Judy drove us to her post housing. We left our own VW Beetle behind at headquarters. Once inside her home, Judy asked us if we wore underwear.

“Of course not,” Billie scoffed as she peeled off her dress. “First, I don’t like clothes. I only wear them because I must. Second, I’ve nothing to hide. I’m as flat as a board. In the past I’ve swum at the YMCA without being recognized as a girl.”

“Whoa, girl! Keep your shirt on!” Judy Blake said.

“At the Y the men swim naked,” Billie bragged. “I got away with swimming naked.”

A car stopped in front of the house and Major Blake entered soon afterwards.

“Judy, why are you still dressed? The kids are with the sitter until eight.”

Judy removed her house dress immediately, her eyes on the floor. I removed my own dress. Another car pulled up outside and Major Blake opened the door. Jim and a woman in a trench coat disembarked from a taxicab. The green and white paint job reminded me of West German Polizei. As soon as the newcomers entered, Jim took the woman’s coat. She was naked underneath.

“Let’s get started,” Major Blake said. “Judy has a confession to make.”

“I cheated,” Judy Blake admitted. “I have been compromised and blackmailed. My excuse was that I felt abandoned by Dennis—so I accepted a drink from a stranger. The next morning I woke up at home. I didn’t remember what happened between that drink and waking up naked in bed. The next week I got a note and some photos telling me where to meet if I didn’t want to be divorced.”

“Judy called me immediately and said that she had a problem,” Major Blake said. “Zara visited her and Judy has been seeing Big Mike for about ten days. Now Judy is young and fresh again. My wife has betrayed the two of you—under orders, of course. That’s why you have been placed next to the motel office in a room that is under constant observation. Judy told Big Mike that you two are an assassination team.

That meant our mission had failed and it was time to get out of the area. Assassins are only dangerous because we penetrate security screens. Once unmasked, that’s no longer possible.

“Your new orders are to reel in Big Mike for interrogation,” Major Blake said.

“Understand this,” I said, “the information we get from that won’t be useful in court. Big Mike has rights.”

“Not in Louisianna,” Major Blake commented.

“Do you want to reveal sources and methods?” I shot back. “The only use for information we get from squeezing Big Mike dry is for finding connected cells. That information will be counter-productive when it becomes public knowledge. I already ran into that roadblock while working in Germany. It’s not what we know, it’s what we can prove. What is admissible evidence in a court of law? What proof will a jury swallow?”

“We have to do something,” Major Blake moaned.

“You have more than enough to haul Big Mike in and imprison him,” Bobbie acknowledged. “We can haul him in on espionage and subversion charges—but that’s all we’ll get. I see where Jackie is going. We can get you the information you want, but you won’t be able to use it against Big Mike.”

“What can you do?”

Big Mike and his cell were allowed to corner us on a deserted dirt county road. It was supposed to be THEIR ambush, and the cameras captured their astonishment when our car drove up with store mannikins in the seat. Remote control is a nice feature—I recommend it for bank robberies, especially with reliable electric motor powerplants. Big Mike and his action cell shot up our car with a BAR and a Thompson submachine gun, and two M2 carbines. When they ran out of ammunition, Bobbie triggered something unexpected—she called it an Immobilizer. All four men were taken without resistance.

Hours later, Big Mike was no longer an African American male. “Little Mikey” was now about four feet eight inches tall and 75 slender pounds—and blonde, blue-eyed and decidedly female. He (or she) had already given up all his/her secrets. Yes, I was confused by gender fluidity. When Little Mikey found out that she was a blonde blue-eyed girl, she lost her mind.