The Monolith Murders (31 page)

As Polish entered the room, Donna was deeply engrossed in a made for TV movie. The script was terrible, the actors were unknown, and the ending predictable, even by a child. But somehow she was caught up in it. She remembered the joke about the guy in a restaurant who complained about his food—it was overcooked, it tasted terrible, and worst of all, the portions were tiny.
 

“Honey, I’ve got some great news,” Polish announced.

“Shh, I want to see the end of this. But God knows why, I knew who the killer was, two minutes from the start.”
 

He went to the TV and hit the off button. One thing he had learned, don’t make Donna mad. But this time he was certain that she would forgive him.
 

“I found out where Maureen and Fred are hiding out; it wasn’t easy, but I did it.”

“Are you sure?”

“Damn right I am, but it won’t be a cakewalk for you to get to them because they’re in the middle of the CIA complex in Washington, DC.”

“No, you’re right, it won’t be easy. But I can at least go up there, probe their minds and maybe find out when they’re going to leave the area. They can’t hide out there forever. Well, perhaps I’ll keep you after all,” she said to her smiling partner.

“Of course you will, babe, you need my arms around you all the time.”

She thought, what an idiot, I only meant keeping him temporarily alive.

Chapter 49

Maureen and Fred were conflicted whether he should have the operation or not.

“What’s the mortality rate on this type of operation?” she asked.
 

“I asked that same question, but there are no statistics. They’ve had only one human operation experience, and that was Donna. Of course, medically speaking, that operation was successful. But psychologically speaking, she had just a slight defect after the operation—she became a goddamn mass murderer. But the CIA’S explanation for that is that she had some significant latent personality issues that didn’t surface before the operation. Her murderous tendencies were apparently there all the time, the operation didn’t produce them.”

“Of course, that’s what the CIA would tell you, they want you to have the operation.”

“Understood. But do you think I would turn into some delusional, aggressive creature if I had the operation? Come on.”

“Fred, the tests that you were administered extrapolated on the basis of what your personality is now. But when this damn thing is put into your brain, who knows if you will be the same person?”
 

“And why would we think that I won’t? We have one data point based on a person, who was dysfunctional from the start.”

“Fred, that same data point is our only indication that the operation is physically safe. The fact is that it’s an experimental operation and anything could go wrong.”

“Maureen, please look at the other side. I can’t protect you from Donna as it is; hell, I can’t even protect myself. She has become more violent and less selective as to picking out her victims.
 

“Hell, she would murder the paper boy if its daily arrival was late. She’s out to get both of us, and I don’t even know how we can protect ourselves except by running from her. And we can’t do that forever. With the device in my brain, I will be every bit as powerful as she is—even more so. Atwell said I already have superior psychic skills, whereas he said that without the device inserted in Donna’s brain, she would have none. Maureen, I can defeat her—but to do it, I need to have the operation!”

“But, Fred, it’s a choice between two negatives. I hate that type of choice, but I guess you’re right. The operation may be the only way to save ourselves. But what will they have you do after the operation? They won’t be giving you that device for nothing; they will hold high perpetual expectations for you.”

“Yes, I recall Dr. Anderson was a reluctant employee of AU, but he had no option other than to be a player with the super spooks leveraging him. I guess it’s a chance we will just have to take.”

“Fred I don’t like this, not at all.”
 

“Nor do I, hon, but I think it’s our destiny.”

Chapter 50

The day of the operation Fred was escorted to the onsite hospital building. Maureen insisted that she be allowed to be by his side before and after the operation; Mr. Shade reluctantly agreed.

Fred was placed in a regular hospital bed; a needle was inserted in his arm. The nurse attached a plastic tube which connected to a hanging plastic bottle with clear liquid dripping from above.
 

“Don’t worry,” she said, “it’s just a mild sedative.”
 

“How long will the operation take?” Fred asked.
 

“Barring complications, we anticipate that it will range between one and two hours. You’ll be completely out, though, so you won’t really care.”
 

“Which part of my brain will the damn thing be inserted in?”

The nurse placed a finger on his scalp. “Right about here.”
 

“How can you do that without removing part of my skull?” he asked.

“The surgeon will talk to you before the operation; you can ask him anything you want to.”

Fred felt that she knew the answer, but she wanted the doctor to deal with the more disturbing aspects of his operation.

In a few minutes the anesthesiologist entered and asked the standard series of allergy questions. Concluding, he said, “Dr. Factor will be with you in a few minutes.”

Through it all, Maureen had her chair pressed next to Fred’s bed. He could see that she was trying to hide her concern.

“It’s okay, hon, it will be over shortly; and then you will see the old Fred come out of it.”

She said nothing.

In a few minutes a stocky man in what Fred guessed was his mid- forties walked in.

Fred noticed the length of his fingers were disproportionate to his other features. He assumed that was a definite advantage for a surgeon.

The man held his hand out. “Fred, I’m Dr. Factor, I’ll be doing the operation. I don’t anticipate any problems, so let’s both relax.”
 

He grasped Fred’s hand firmly as if to symbolically instill additional confidence in his patient. To Fred, all it meant was that he had a strong handshake.

“I hope you’re right. But I do have a couple of questions.”

“Shoot.”

“How can you operate on me, place the device in me, and still leave my skull intact?”

“We can’t. We have to remove a piece of your skull for two reasons; obviously, so we can insert the unit, and also to allow room in case your brain swells. That’s the same procedure we use in the case of a serious brain injury, due to an automotive accident or a bullet wound to the head.”
 

“What undesirable things could happen if the brain swells?”

“No reason for me to even respond to that, Fred, because nothing bad will happen. If it does, it will be minimal and the segment of the skull we remove will provide plenty of tolerance for expansion. Besides, if there is any swelling, and again I’m sure there will be none, your brain will return to normal in a fairly short time. We would use drugs to counteract any possible expansion of your brain.”

“Do you replace the part of the skull you took out?”

“Yes, of course. Normally, any swelling will occur in the first three days. If there’s no swelling, after five days we’ll replace the segment of your skull that we had removed. Of course, if for some reason the device doesn’t function as planned, it also allows us to remove it within that five day window.”
 

“You can’t remove it after that?”
 

“Oh, sure, it could be removed, but that would require removal of the same section of your skull that we removed previously. So, we wait the safe period before your skull piece is returned. We don’t want to perform that operation a second time. Don’t worry, you’ll be well- bandaged and a piece of sterile plastic will be applied as a temporary cover to prevent infection.”

“Besides the inflammation of my brain, what else can occur?” Fred had become more and more anxious. Why the hell am I doing this, he thought again to himself.

“We also have to be careful about bleeding. We will be connecting the miniature wires to parts of your cerebrum and that will require us to surgically open your brain. We will cauterize any areas of bleeding during the operation. But remember, the wires are tiny; so much of the operation will be performed using a medical microscope.

You should have no problems, Fred.”
 

With that, the doctor patted him on the shoulder and left the room. It was obvious that he didn’t want to field any more questions.
 

In truth, Dr. Factor couldn’t respond to many more questions. Although he was a neurosurgeon, he had never conducted this type of operation before. The spot in the brain in which the insertion was to take place was responsible for higher brain functions. Specifically, he was going to enter Fred’s parietal lobe which controlled movement, balance and the perception of stimuli. That was always a nasty area for a neurosurgeon to play with.

For years there had been an ongoing disagreement between the western and the eastern world. The eastern world was rooted in the belief that powers such as ESP existed outside of the body, and such capability was possible only when there was integration between the brain and the metaphysical. Dr. Factor believed in none of that, he knew that all human experiences were processed solely by the human brain, and he also understood the detailed functions of all segments of the brain. The extensive work done at AU had provided him with limited additional insight as to where the ESP capabilities were situated in the brain. The problem from Factor’s perspective was how the functioning brain integrated various activities, and how this device was going to communicate with all the other brain functions. He was delighted that soon Fred was going to be the living experiment that was going to answer that question for him. The optimism concerning the operation that he had conveyed to Fred was false. In truth, he had no idea what was about to happen. But he was delighted that he was about to find out.

Chapter 51

Donna took the Amtrak high speed rail to Washington. When she arrived at the cavernous, ornate Union Station she went directly to a phone stall. Removing the yellow pages directory, she fingered through the motel section. Her objective was to find a motel within a short distance from the CIA compound. She found a motel that seemed to meet her objectives in McLean, Virginia; she called asking the clerk how close it was to the CIA headquarters.
 

The clerk said, “Oh, it’s only a five minute drive, and if you give me a minute I’ll tell you the price of the room.”
 

Satisfied it was within the range of effectiveness for her psychic powers, Donna said, “Cost is not a factor.” She reserved a room.
 

Being a fugitive had a labyrinth of negative issues. The first was her fear of being recognized. She resolved that by using an assortment of different color wigs, body altering makeup and various costumes. She was a petite 110 pounds, 35 years old, with thick flowing blonde hair and a symmetrical face that, from a beauty criterion, would easily qualify her to be a Hollywood actress. But now, with latex padding placed at various areas of her body, and a wig which added years to her age, she had become an elderly gray-haired woman, who had lost her body tone to age decades ago. Her dress size had artificially ballooned from a muscle-toned size six to a bulging fourteen.
 

She hailed one of the station’s numerous queued taxis. Each driver was patiently seeking customers, hoping their destinations were some distance from the terminal, which would provide them with a source of reasonable income. Donna only had one dress in her present reconstructed configuration; the artificial hair that was part of her flimsy inexpensive wig was already starting to come detached from its skin colored latex base. She told the taxi driver that she wanted to go to Tyson’s Shopping Center and wanted him to wait for her until she completed her round of shopping. The driver was pleased; this was the perfect customer since the meter continued to run while he leisurely read the Washington Post.
 

Ironically, Donna walked down the aisles of the huge stores, almost retracing the steps that Maureen had taken a few days earlier. Donna could vaguely sense the past presence of Maureen and Fred just as a dog can detect the scent of a quarry that vacated an area sometime ago. Donna found what she was seeking and returned to the cab.

She would have preferred to drive her own vehicle, but rental agencies required a credit card for security. And that was a dangerous transaction in her present situation.
 

She thought about how she would eventually relocate to a place where the cops would never find her, but first on her priority list was the elimination of Maureen and Fred Harris. She deemed it unfortunate that her sister had failed to eliminate Maureen, but she considered Sue a rank amateur.