Chapter 14

The door closed quickly and I was hustled off down the corridor. At one of the turns I was taken left where previously I had been taken right to the medical clinic. I was ushered into a small room with a desk and a chair. I was directed to sit in the chair and then the sandy haired man went around and sat in the desk. I expected some kind of interrogation to begin but instead we just sat there in silence. The room was well air-conditioned and my damp shirt felt cool on my skin. I was just about to say something when the door opened and Bill walked into the room. The sandy haired man jumped up and Bill took over his chair. He sat down and smiled at me. "So, how's it going?"

"Have you gotten her to cooperate yet?" I looked back at him in confusion. "What do you mean?" I asked. Bill frowned. "You know damn well what I mean Fred."

"What have you been doing the last two days?"

"Why are you calling me Fred?" I asked with growing confusion. Bill's frown deepened and he turned to the sandy haired man who shrugged at him. "Pat, why hasn't this man been restored?" Pat jumped up. "I'll look into it." He scurried out of the office. Bill looked back at me and flashed an insincere smile. "Don't worry, we'll get to the bottom of this." He leaned back in the chair and crossed his fingers over his stomach. I made an attempt to ask him questions. "Why don't you tell me what's going on?" He held up a finger. "All in good time Fred, all in good time."

"Just be patient, your questions will be answered soon enough." A brief worried expression crossed his face. "Unless something is really screwed up, he muttered softly, more to himself than to me.

After a few more minutes of silence Pat came back into the room followed by the doctor who had seen me the other day. "We've figured it out," Pat said quickly. "He slept in the wrong room last night and wasn't exposed to the ultrasonics that would have restored his memories. While he was talking a team of men and women entered the room with a table and a large boxy machine on rollers. Pat turned to me with a smirk. "We expected you to be more successful in the romance department than you were." The doctor stepped forward. We'll have to run him through an accelerated process. It will be more painful but it should work with no problem. At a curt nod from Bill I felt hands grabbing my arms and was quickly moved to the table. "Hey, wait a minute!" I screamed. "Let me go!" I began to struggle as they strapped me to the table but I was outnumbered and soon helpless.

The doctor positioned the box by the side of my head and then turned to Bill. This shouldn't take very long at all. "Just get on with it," Bill growled. "We've wasted enough time on this shit." He looked at me. "Goodbye James," he said "It's been a pleasure doing business with you." I felt a wave a fear pass over me and tried once more to break free. But it was not use. The doctor reached over and flipped a switch on the box. The box began humming then the pitch and intensity began to increase. Then it stopped making any noise at all. Suddenly it felt as if the top of my head had been torn off. I screamed in pain and shock as the memories began flooding in.

There was no James/Howard or rather there wasn't any more. He had died in the same automobile crash that had killed his mother. When Bill had learned that Louie had started a serious search for Carl and his family he had decided to throw a little bait his way. I was one of his best agents. Using some kind of DNA re-sequencing from DNA taken from Howard (don't ask me how he got it) and some pretty advanced techniques he had implanted James' memories and personality into my head. After a little cosmetic surgery my face matched pretty good with the deceased. And me? My name was Alfred Howard Taylor. Bill was one of the few people to call me by my first name, mainly because he knew I hated it and preferred to be called Howard. I had been in the company for almost 20 years now and was one of his best agents. I had volunteered for this one because I knew Louie years before and despised him. It was interesting how connected the world was sometimes. There had been a chance that I would never regain my memories but I was willing to take it. Some people needed killing after all.

The doctor had been timing the session and from the corner of my eye I saw him reach over and flip the machine off. The pain immediately ceased but my disorientation continued for several minutes as my brain struggled to adapt. The medical team moved the equipment out of the way and the doctor stepped in to check my heart and to shine his little light in my eyes. I checked out ok and he left the room along with everyone else. I closed my eyes and rested a bit while I sorted things out. I still had the memories of James but they were displaced by my original personality and memories. I grinned up at the ceiling. And the original me was a much bigger bastard than James ever dreamed of being. As I lay there thinking I felt the smile on my face grow bigger. I turned to Bill and grinned at him. "It worked," I said hoarsely. I pushed myself up. Bill stepped forward to help me sit up. He gave me a glass of water and I eagerly drank it down. "Congratulations," he said to me. "You took out one of the top mob bosses in the country and one of the best hit men in the world. Do you know how long we've wanted Michael dead? He slapped me on the shoulder. "This was a damn good mission Fred." I grinned back at him. "Yeah, I guess you are right."