Chapter 25

Everything looked like it was coming together. The CIA had complied with the judge's order, and we had deposed the three agents. They all gave the same name, of a person in their immediate chain of command, who had gone missing when the shit hit the fan.

Both the FBI and the CIA were actively searching for CIA supervisor Lyle Barns, the man who ordered the three covert agents to violate the law, and my rights. He had a lot to answer for. My attorney said that the government had changed its position, and was actively seeking a settlement with me.

That was, until two days ago. Damn it anyway! John Gilchrist called me, asking me to use my talent for the benefit of a child he knew. Yes, you guessed it. The same John Gilchrist from college, one of the two men I had told, who actually believed I could 'view' the past. While I was sympathetic, I had repeatedly explained to him that I was not part of Child Protective Services. All the states maintained bureaucracies whose sole purpose in life was to insure children were safe, and make the parents' lives a living hell. The two seemed to go hand in hand to me. I explained to John that while I was saddened by the story he had given me, I reminded him that I was not dedicating my life to his 'pet project'. Besides, I was busy. If I caved on this, it would never ever end.

He reasoned with me, cajoled me, and told me I was going to hell. I listened for a bit then told him that it had been nice hearing from him, and perhaps we could do this again in a year or five, and hung up.

Two days later I received a polite call from the FBI asking if I would come down to their offices for a conference of mutual benefit. Thinking it was about the possible settlement over the CIA's spying on me, I told my attorney to meet me at the downtown office of the local FBI, and at what time.

I know, I know. I just wasn't thinking. The settlement would not have been done at the office of the FBI; it would have been done at the US attorney's office. My attorney would have told me that if I had just talked to him instead of having a message relayed to him of where and when to meet me.

I arrived about ten minutes before the appointed time, and waited in the lobby of the federal building for my attorney. I was reading a paper when an agent approached me.

"Mr. Wilshire? I am agent Darlene Madison. If you will follow me, I will show you to the office you need to go to," said a very lovely woman.

"I am waiting for my attorney. He should be here in a few minutes," I responded, but I had risen to my feet, out of politeness.

"We can have him escorted to the room if you'd like. We really want to get started," she said, instantly raising a warning flag in my mind.

Get started without my attorney? Not even the FBI could think I was stupid enough to enter into a deal with the US government, without having my attorney present. I just stared at agent Madison.

"Or, we could wait here for your lawyer," she said after a moment, grinning at me.

I relaxed, and returned her grin with a smile of my own. She sat down on the bench next to me. We made small talk until my attorney, Richard Kelso, arrived.

"Tom! There you are. You should have cleared this with me before you came down here. I have spent most of the morning at the US Attorneys office settling most of the issues of your case. Which brings us to, 'exactly why are we here'?" Richard said this last, looking at agent Madison.

"I am sure everything will be made clear to you, if you would just follow me up to the third floor. I have taken the liberty of getting badges for the both of you," she said, pulling generic 'visitor' badges out of her breast pocket for us.

I was curious now, and a little apprehensive. Something was off, here, but what? We went into the elevator and got off on the third floor. We went through a door marked, 'Deputy Director Lawrence Preston'.

I found myself in a reception room, which was nicer than a lot of offices I had been in. Almost as soon as we entered we were told to go through yet another door that was inside.

I wondered if the average taxpayer knew what kind of equipment that an assistant director rated. It looked like an oak desk polished to a warm glow. The carpet was a deep green that was pleasing to the eye. Two windows provided afternoon light into the room.

A leather couch sat along one wall, out of direct light, and two leather chairs were facing the couch across a glass coffee table. What appeared to be some sort of entertainment center was against another wall.

The short, balding man with glasses, was about sixty years old. He was dressed in a dark suit, and was standing and waiting for us as we entered. Also in the room, were two other younger men, standing off to the side, dressed in the prerequisite FBI suits. What was it about the FBI that made them dress the same?

"Mr. Wilshire, it's a pleasure to meet you sir. I'm Lawrence Preston, and so very glad to make your acquaintance," the bald man said pumping my hand energetically.

I had a sinking feeling in my stomach. Of all scenarios I had envisioned, this was not one of them. It made me suspicious, automatically. As it turned out, my hunch was right, but I hadn't realized how right!

"My two associates are Munson, and Kirkland. This would be your attorney, Mr. Kelso?"

I nodded, and another round of handshaking went on.

"I have to say Mr. Wilshire, I am impressed! This ability you display is most intriguing! Most intriguing, and most remarkable indeed," Preston said enthusiastically.

Worse and worse. At that moment I saw the videotape. I sighed. I recognized the tape. It was one that Levy and John had made while I was learning to view time or 'back time' as I call it. I still hadn't said anything.

"I understand your reluctance to talk about it, Mr. Wilshire. A most unique talent indeed. The government would like to hire you, and to study this ability of yours," Preston said to me.

"What are you talking about?" My lawyer asked in a confused tone of voice.

"You don't know? Your client has a very unique talent, Mr. Kelso. Mr. Wilshire has the ability to view past time. No, not on the TV or in the movies. He can be somewhere, here for example, and look backwards in time. He can see what has gone before or whatever has happened or is said in a room. Am I right Mr. Wilshire?" Preston asked me.

My lawyer looked at me and I still had not said anything up to now in response. Something in me snapped! All right, they knew. By god, it was out, at least a bit of it, and I was going to get this straightened out once and for all!

"What he is referring to, Richard, is my ability to 'back time' as I call it. I found out I could do this when I was in the eighth grade. Someone in college helped me develop this ability. Because I would not become his slave and do what he wanted, when he wanted it; he decided to tell the federal authorities, since he knew it was something I did not want them to know," I finished grimly.

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