Authors: David Morehouse
Psychic Warrior (26 page)
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Nofi tossed his notebook onto the table, startling me, and looked around the table as if taking inventory. “I want to make one thing perfectly clear about this operation: I did not want to include those of you who are no longer active in this program, but I was instructed to do so by DIAâspecifically, by Dr. Albert Krohn. He felt we needed your expertise to augment what we already have. Those of you who know me, know that I like to get things out in the open and let people know how I feel about them. So now you know how the coach feels about the playing field. Now let's discuss the game.
“I'm going to front-load you all. We don't have the time to spare with working blind just to get you on target. These are your assignments.” He walked around the table, placing a single tasking sheet in front of each of us. “There will be no exchanges of assignments; as you can see, you will be required to work solo. If anyone feels a desperate need for a monitor”âhe paused to glare at the returning teamâ“do come and see me in my office following this meeting and I'll discuss it with you personally.”
I glanced at Judy and Carol, who were both smirking. Channelers don't use monitors; Nofi had obviously decided that what went for channelers would do for viewers as well.
“I'll place your time and room assignments on the board in ten minutes; your sketches and summaries are due back to me within one hour of the completion of your session.
As alwaysâand as a reminder for those of you returningâyou are not to discuss any of your findings with anyone but me. Is that clear?”
As alwaysâand as a reminder for those of you returningâyou are not to discuss any of your findings with anyone but me. Is that clear?”
Everyone did the drinking bird routine, nodding in acknowledgment.
“Good. Then are there any questions?”
No one spoke a word.
“The meeting is adjourned. Good hunting to each of you.” He picked up his files and left the room. Mel and I sat at the table looking at our assignments.
“I don't want to do this solo,” I remarked. “I'm going to go see the bastard right now. Will you monitor me, Mel?”
“You bet I will.”
I knocked on Nofi's half-open door but he didn't respond. I could see him sitting at his desk, making notes, so I knocked again, and again he didn't respond. I walked into the office, planted myself in front of his desk, and stood there waiting for him to look up at me. He didn't, so I started talking. “I want Melâ”
Nofi raised his hand and slowly looked up at me. “If I'm ready to carry on a conversation with you, I'll so indicate by making eye contact with you and inviting you to speak. This is not one of your battalion headquarters where chaos is supreme; we have the decency to wait our turn here, and if it's not our turn we are scolded.”
I felt my blood boil and my face heat. I had to tell myself to calm down, fast, or else I'd have grabbed that little puke from behind his desk and dusted the room with him. Nofi kept writing in his notebook. He was taking his time; he knew he'd pissed me off, but he figured I wouldn't kick his ass because I wasn't as much of a jerk as he was. People like him are right, most of the time.
I slammed my fist on his desk and made him drop his pen. Now I had his full attention. I leaned on his desk, stared straight into his face, and said: “Now you're being scolded. I don't know you, but I do know you have a problem with me and maybe some of the others. Well, that's
simply that,
your
problem. Let's get one thing very clear: you are not my boss, and I'm not in the habit of being treated like this by my peers. According to the card I carry in my pocket, majors and civilians of your grade are on an equal footing, so don't you dare treat me like a subordinate. In fact, don't you treat
any
of us who came back to bail out your sorry ass like subordinates. Somebody obviously thought you weren't up to this job, or they wouldn't have had you track us down and invite us to the party. Now I'm filling you in: Mel Riley is going to monitor me. If you have a problem with that, you can pick up your secure phone and call whoever shoved us up your ass and explain to them why you don't think I should work the mission with a monitor. If they want to tell me why a monitor isn't needed, I'll listen. But they won't do that, will they?” Then I walked out of the office, grabbed a cup of coffee, and yelled, “Hey, everybody, Mr. Nofi said he'd be a little late getting the board posted. It's my faultâI held him up talking to him so long.” I winked at Jenny and took a swig from my mug.
simply that,
your
problem. Let's get one thing very clear: you are not my boss, and I'm not in the habit of being treated like this by my peers. According to the card I carry in my pocket, majors and civilians of your grade are on an equal footing, so don't you dare treat me like a subordinate. In fact, don't you treat
any
of us who came back to bail out your sorry ass like subordinates. Somebody obviously thought you weren't up to this job, or they wouldn't have had you track us down and invite us to the party. Now I'm filling you in: Mel Riley is going to monitor me. If you have a problem with that, you can pick up your secure phone and call whoever shoved us up your ass and explain to them why you don't think I should work the mission with a monitor. If they want to tell me why a monitor isn't needed, I'll listen. But they won't do that, will they?” Then I walked out of the office, grabbed a cup of coffee, and yelled, “Hey, everybody, Mr. Nofi said he'd be a little late getting the board posted. It's my faultâI held him up talking to him so long.” I winked at Jenny and took a swig from my mug.
Grining, Mel poured himself a refill. “Next time you're counseling the boss, make sure the door is closed.”
“He's not our boss, thank God. And you'll be monitoring me.”
The board was posted fifteen minutes later, and excitement filled the office. None of us knew anything about what was going on in the Gulf except for what we saw on CNN. I didn't understand why remote viewers were being used now, when they could have been really useful during the planning and execution phases of Desert Storm. But why ask questions?
My target lay east of the area of operations, along the coast and inland. I'd been given a map, really just an outline sketch of the eastern border of Iraq, all of Kuwait, and the northeastern borders of Saudi Arabia. My mission was to advance to the encrypted coordinates and examine the surrounding terrain for anything of significanceâin other words, to drop in and see if anything needed attention. I
was certain that I'd be looking for Iraqi stay-behinds, small units lingering in the shadows, waiting for some unsuspecting coalition patrol to wander by. I might even run into some Scud missile units that had so far escaped detection. They could be hunkered down somewhere in the desert, waiting for the fighting to cool down before surfacing and blasting the shit out of Kuwait City or Dhahran. I had to stop getting ahead of myself. I checked the board and saw I had at least a half an hour to kill before hookup and prep, so I decided to get some fresh air.
was certain that I'd be looking for Iraqi stay-behinds, small units lingering in the shadows, waiting for some unsuspecting coalition patrol to wander by. I might even run into some Scud missile units that had so far escaped detection. They could be hunkered down somewhere in the desert, waiting for the fighting to cool down before surfacing and blasting the shit out of Kuwait City or Dhahran. I had to stop getting ahead of myself. I checked the board and saw I had at least a half an hour to kill before hookup and prep, so I decided to get some fresh air.
Mel was sitting on the front porch. “Ten-thirty in Room Two.”
“I know,” he said, finishing his cigarette. “Something don't feel right about this.” He got to his feet and motioned for me to follow him.
“It's been a long time since we had one of these walks,” I said.
“Yeah, it has.”
“I miss it, don't you?”
Mel snorted. “Hell, no! First off, I don't have to put up with this shit anymore. And second, I can walk out my back door and step into the canoe and head for the far side of the lake. If there's anything bothering me when I start, it ain't there by the time I get to the other side. It's a beautiful place, Scandinavia is. Edith and I love it there. You should drag Debbie and the kids up there and buy a house and we'd be neighbors.”
We both laughed at the idea until I remembered that I didn't have a family anymore.
“Ahh, I'm sorry,” Mel said. “I didn't mean to touch a nerve.”
“Hell, I can't tiptoe around it forever.” I felt my throat tightening and I fought back tears. “It's so hard to be alone now, after being a team for all those years. God, Mel, I really miss her and the kids.”
Riley hugged me briefly and, holding me at arm's length, said: “Remember, we're like waterâwe travel to many different places in many different conditions, but eventually,
we journey back to ourselves. The way is full of rocks and stones that make us tumble, and there are eddies that delay us and reduce us to a trickle, but our destiny is to return. That is an eternal law. You knew that God had a plan for you many years ago when you met Debbie. Let that plan unfold; all you have to do is believe in it. Debbie is not gone from you, nor you from her, as long as you continue to let her know that you love her. Put forth a little effort, like the water, and you'll work through everything else and be together again. I promise it.”
we journey back to ourselves. The way is full of rocks and stones that make us tumble, and there are eddies that delay us and reduce us to a trickle, but our destiny is to return. That is an eternal law. You knew that God had a plan for you many years ago when you met Debbie. Let that plan unfold; all you have to do is believe in it. Debbie is not gone from you, nor you from her, as long as you continue to let her know that you love her. Put forth a little effort, like the water, and you'll work through everything else and be together again. I promise it.”
“You're a good friend, Mel Riley.” I hugged him again. “And a very wise man.”
“Hey!” Posner shouted from the porch. “If you two are done making each other feel good, you have a mission to run in five minutes.”
Mel said, “Are you sure you're up to this?”
“Of course. It's the only peace I get these days. Let's do it!”
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Nothing much had changed in the viewing rooms, except that there were some new microphones, and someone had placed black tape over the camera's red “on” light. Mel figured this was so nobody would know if they were being watched. But we had been watched during every session before Nofi arrived, and why would it be any different now?
I got hooked up and lay down to prepare myself, listening to Beethoven's “Moonlight” Sonata over and over. Five times before I started my countdown I listened to the anguished creation of a man who realized he didn't belong in the world he found himself in. Five times I listened before I found myself falling into a tunnel of light and passing into another world.
I landed crouching and lingered for a moment, gaining my equilibrium. When I rose to my feet I saw a black world of mist, and a hollow sun above me.
“Something's wrong! I'm not at the target, Mel!” I cried. “Mel! I'm off-planet somewhere!”
Riley was scrambling to figure out what to do. “Calm down, Morehouse, get a grip and tell me what you see.”
“I'm off-planet and IâWait, I hear something.”
“What is it?”
“Quiet! Just wait.” And then I saw it, a Bradley Fighting Vehicle roared past me out of the black haze. It was quickly followed by another, and yet another, and then three more. They disappeared into the smoke as quickly as they'd come. “Sorry, false alarm. I'm where I'm supposed to be.” I don't think I'd ever grinned in the ether before. I thought for sure that Mel was cursing me under his breath.
“Give me a description of your surroundings, Dave. I need to try and pinpoint your location.”
“Well, I can't see much from here ⦠there's black smoke everywhere. I must be standing in the plume of a burning vehicle or something. Let me move to another vantage point.” But no matter where I stopped I found myself completely immersed in choking black smoke.
“I can't seem to shake this stuff, it's everywhere. I need to get some real distance if I'm to get out of the smoke.”
“Okay,” Mel said, “whenever you're ready, I want you to move upward five hundred feet and to the north twenty miles. Go ahead any time.”
I felt myself move upward rapidly, and the ground below me blurred as I sped across the terrain and settled in the new target area. Here, too, the air was thick with the black smoke, the ground littered with the rubble of the war. “I still can't see anything, Mel. I think the entire area is blanketed with this stuff.”
“What's it made of?”
“It tastes and smells like petroleum, and it's sticky, it coats everything. It's got to be oil. I'm going to look aroundâkeep listening, okay?”
“I'm here.” Mel had to be impatient; he'd expected this to be easier, and so had I.
I started moving in large circles, surveying the ground beneath me and straining to see even fifty feet through the smoke. Periodically, I came upon wrecked vehicles, more
often civilian than military ones. The tracks of hundreds of vehicles scarred the sand, almost all going north or northwest. I followed them. I knew the Iraqi army was in retreat, and I assumed they'd be heading away from the direction their destroyed weapons were facing in. I passed over the splayed bodies of many Iraqi soldiers; the smell of their flesh in the desert heat was masked by the equally sickening stench of the black smoke.
often civilian than military ones. The tracks of hundreds of vehicles scarred the sand, almost all going north or northwest. I followed them. I knew the Iraqi army was in retreat, and I assumed they'd be heading away from the direction their destroyed weapons were facing in. I passed over the splayed bodies of many Iraqi soldiers; the smell of their flesh in the desert heat was masked by the equally sickening stench of the black smoke.
“I heard something roaring in the distance, Mel. I'm moving toward it, but the temperature is increasing rapidly.”
“I know, I can see your temp rising here. Keep your distance and give me your perceptions.”
“Don't worry, I'm getting too old to act stupid.”
I traveled along the surface, where I could see more clearly. The roaring got louder and louder, and the heat became unbearable. I moved left and right until I found a spot where the heat was less intense and I could get close enough to glimpse the source.
“It's an oil well. It's burning like crazy; flames must be shooting fifty feet or more into the air. There's raw crude all over the ground, but most of it has already burned. Mel, I've never seen anything like this up closeâit's like a blowtorch standing on end. I've got a hole in the smoke here, so I'm going straight up for a look.”
My phantom body rose to a height of thirty meters or so above the well fire. I turned slowly in the air, surveying my surroundings. Everywhere, as far as I could see, blazing torches sprang out of the ground, belching flame and smoke. Plume mixed with plume until they all joined together in one massive black blanket. The heat beneath me reminded me that I had a job to do, and I returned to my lower vantage point.
“This is bad, Mel; every oil well for as far as I can see is on fire. This is real bad. I don't know what to do from here. Obviously they know about thisâwho could miss it? Do you think I should come back now?”
Riley thought for a moment. “No; keep looking around.
You're right, they surely know about the fires, so there must be something else. You've been on target for about fifty minutes now; can you give it another twenty or thirty minutes before you come back?”
You're right, they surely know about the fires, so there must be something else. You've been on target for about fifty minutes now; can you give it another twenty or thirty minutes before you come back?”
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