by John L. Hart
When she still didn’t respond, Phillip reached down, picked up his briefcase, opened it.
“JD’s first assignment was as a shoeshine boy.” He began thumbing through a thick manila folder, took something out, then returned the file and briefcase to the floor. “But of course, not just any shoeshine boy. He was twelve. A very pretty boy. Don’t you agree?” Phillip extended an old photo. “He looks so much like his mother. Truly an exquisite woman who sadly suffered from delusions. I’ll tell you about her one day. We were very close. As for JD, his beauty as a child was unrivaled, and that much hasn’t changed. Let’s see, he was twelve there, so not quite a child, but young enough to attract a pedophile a certain government needed to dispose of, and skilled enough already to quickly kill the predator once his pants were down.”
Kate accepted the photo with hands that were as clammy as her neck. All she could do was stare. It didn’t look like JD at all, and yet, it looked exactly like JD.
“He was fully ordained into the order of the monastery after this,” Phillip continued somewhere in the background. “He became quite in demand for his services, which further added to the hundreds of years of treasure the monastery had accumulated. No one can deny his motivations were admirable. As for his natural skill as an assassin, displayed at a remarkably young age, it would have been quite remiss of me on behalf of our government, Kate—that would be The United States of America—to not tap into his particularly unique abilities, despite the fact that JD did not then, nor has he since, have any sort of personal attachment or loyalty to the birth land of his father. Never mind that our country is also currently the major cutter of his paychecks. Not that we’re the only ones. Assassins at his level have no loyalty to anyone for the most part, but it’s only fair to say that JD is different that way, too. A good portion of everything he has—and it is significant—continues to be funneled back into the monastery that raised him. It’s the closest thing he’s ever had to a home. The only person he loves more is his step-brother Zhang.”
While she could have done without the details, she had presumed part of JD’s job was eliminating undesirables, even if he hadn’t come out and said so. And so what if he was prettier than most girls, and men of a certain persuasion wanted him? If this was all Phillip had on JD, they might still be okay. Kate allowed herself a small sigh of relief.
“JD was just doing his duty to help the school that raised him. As for any questions about JD’s sexual orientation, really, Phillip, is that the best you can do? I have never met a man on intimate terms who loves women the way JD does. And that includes you.” And unlike you, he loves to have my hands in his hair and more than whispers put to his ears, just like I do. She let that go as too trivial to bear mention at the moment.
Phillip shrugged. “True as that may be—and I’m quite confident he has convinced you that everything you are saying is precisely, exactly true, because that is what he does—JD has a reputation for being a gifted liar. In and out of bed. You could ask any number of his exes, except, that is, for his last two girlfriends. Unfortunately, they are both dead—”
“What?”
“Oh, he didn’t tell you? The first one he seemed quite enamored with, but won’t even say her name now. The second one I suppose he considered no great loss, since he brushed the subject aside when I offered condolences. Needless to say, due to their affiliation with JD neither died from natural causes. But that’s enough about that. As for the role playing, however, and the lies that inevitably go with it—”
“Stop it!” Kate slapped the picture down on the bed. She was not giving it back to Phillip, whose clear purpose was to undermine JD however he could. “Why should I believe anything you’re telling me?”
“Because, Katherine, I introduced the two of you to begin with. Because I wish I could undo the damage I’ve done. And most especially because despite every effort I’ve spent more than a decade trying to control it, I do love you and I cannot stop myself. You know that’s true. Don’t you?”
Did she? Hoping was one thing; having it proven, another. Costly baubles didn’t count from a resource of unlimited wealth. Neither did private vacations on private jets and private islands and private yachts, where she was kept under private, mink-coat wraps. Nor did “assignments,” to grant her the illusion of being some kind of spy they both knew she wasn’t, count for much in the world where Phillip was king and she was forever there to do his bidding. Until JD made her heart sing and her stomach drop whenever she thought of telling him the full extent of her liaison with Phillip. JD had his secrets, but she had hers, too.
Now Phillip was declaring his love in a way that, not that long ago, would have sent her soaring. Instead the thrill felt muted and she only granted him a non-committal shrug.
“Toss that aside if you like, my dear. You have every reason. And you can go back to JD if you want. But before you decide to do that, there is one more thing I must leave you with: real actors, the gifted ones, come alive in the spotlight. They have an uncanny ability to convince themselves of whatever they wish to be true, at least when the curtains go up or the cameras start to roll. Good agents have an ability to lie and memorize their lines, too—if not naturally, then it’s a skill they manage to develop. The next tier of agents is better than that. They are right up there with the Oscar winners when it comes to performance. But then there is JD. No one has ever come close to his ability to assume any role to get a job done. Honestly, if he were assigned to become a dragon or bear or snake, or even a fish in the ocean for that matter, I have no doubt he would find a way to become any of those, too. Having known his mother, I’ve long suspected he inherited more than her beauty. One reason he had so many nannies before her death was due to her ‘vacations.’ Psychiatric facilities. Hardly the French Riviera, as he will most likely tell you if you ever ask. As for his ability to lie to your face, on the phone, or in any form of written word, it falls into the realm of genius. Or perhaps the term medical professionals such as your friends Dr. Kelly and Dr. Moskowitz would use is ‘pathological.’”
It was exactly the term Gregg had quietly put to her as a possibility about JD, and she had refused to even entertain the idea, chalking it up to Gregg’s nearly pathological obsession with her himself. And she absolutely did not want to believe Phillip now. It would make everything she thought she and JD shared, if not a complete lie, at least squeamishly in question.
She didn’t want to ask, but smart girls who survived crushing disappointments like botched abortions and married men they lost a young, foolish heart to, did not walk blindly down a dark path without being armed with as much information as possible, no matter how unwanted it might be. Kate forced the question: “Is there anything else I should know?”
“Perhaps you might ask me why I wanted you to meet JD in the first place. And should you ask that, it’s not so much about JD as it is about his brother Zhang. You do realize that JD would do anything for him, don’t you?”
Phillip already knew the answer, and he knew that she knew. Kate bit her bottom lip and wished again for the artificial dreaminess of the drug that would make all this disappear.
“I will take your silence as a yes,” Phillip answered for her. “And if you know that much about JD, it is more than most ever will. For him to trust you to that extent with his personal life is extraordinary. Congratulations, Kate. You’ve more than proven your own talents as an agent worth developing. In exchange I will give you some closely guarded information that not even the CIA is aware of, despite being JD’s primary employer. You see, the reason I had you meet JD to begin with is that he is the linchpin to The Poppy King. That would be his step-brother Zhang. And it is Zhang who controls the Golden Triangle—and subsequently the heroin trade that supplies most of America and everything in between. Most significantly is Zhang’s recent influx of especially pure heroin to the US troops here in Vietnam.” He paused. “I want you to think about that, Katherine. Thi
nk about where that puts you when it comes to your own loyalties and what is right, what is wrong. And what you are willing to sacrifice to do what is right yourself.”
Phillip picked up his book. He took it with him to the door. There, he turned. “And one more thing about JD. Something that bothers me greatly, as it should you. Why did he leave you to fend for yourself on that boat—alone, in the middle of a war zone?”
He left her with that. Kate listened to his footfalls down the hallway where she had yet to venture, at least not that she recalled. It was time she tried to get up on her own steam and out of this bed. Chase after Phillip and demand concrete proof of his allegations against JD.
The mosquito netting around the large, teak four poster felt like a filmy prison, and in a fit of frustration she crammed a fistful around the nearest carved post before leveraging herself up and swinging her legs off the mattress. A moment’s dizziness passed. Just as she was about to try standing, she noticed Phillip’s briefcase. Had he accidentally left it behind? Or was there something he wanted her to find?
As she considered what may or may not be his intent, Kate caught herself about to pick at the scab again. The urge to scratch it was almost as strong as the lure of the file in Phillip’s briefcase. There had to be more on JD in there.
And should there be evidence that everything Phillip said about Zhang was true? So what. Phillip was deeply mistaken if he thought simply playing on her good, American-girl sympathies would make her turn on JD. She had too much invested to give up a man she wanted, just because his brother was some kind of “Poppy King,” doling out the drugs that addicts made the decision to take, and would just find another means of provision if he went away.
She didn’t care about Zhang, and Phillip should know that. Which was probably why he left her with that last zinger. It still smarted. Why would JD leave her behind, without more protection than a cook and a boat pilot who hadn’t even been able to protect themselves? Hadn’t his last words been, as he folded the white Go stone into her palm, “Keep it safe, as I will always keep you”?
Actions spoke louder than words. One of her mother’s favorite maxims.
The briefcase beckoned as more questions arose.
Was she blindly moonstruck? She had loved the whole seductive, sexy, edgy love affair with JD from the beginning, yet all along were constant and consistent warnings from Gregg that she had dismissed as jealousy. But her friend Shirley, and even Izzy, had not completely trusted JD. In fact, it went beyond not trusting. They were afraid of him, she realized, and yes, in retrospect, she had found even that to be part of JD’s bad-boy appeal.
Were there things about JD that she had overlooked to her own detriment, the same way that two girlfriends before her possibly had? It was imperative to know everything possible about the man she thought she loved. She hated Phillip a little for making her doubt it. But she would hate herself more if JD was as untrustworthy as her friends had warned and as duplicitous as Phillip had said—and despite Phillip’s flaws, of which he had many, dishonesty was not one of them. He had almost always been honest with her. Brutally so.
She eyed the briefcase. Picked at the scab.
Kate made her decision. As if there was a decision to be made when Phillip may as well have slipped a clue beneath the door and dared her not to open it.
16
To: Office of the Director (For Your Eyes Only)
From: Chief of Medical and Psychological Services
Re: Psychological Testing and Mental Status Evaluation of Code Name Burmese Python
AKA J. D. Mikel, John David Michael, Michael David John, John Michael David and others.
Relevant Background: As you know, sir, this evaluation took place at your insistence and mine over the strenuous objections of the Ambassador. The evaluation occurred at one of our strategic HQs maintained as a USAID base and a HQ for our Air America operations near the Golden Triangle. The individual in question refused to come to the United States to Langley for the testing as he seemed to have some trepidation about being detained if he had done so. Unfortunately, that is exactly what I would have recommended following this evaluation. He is by birth a citizen of USA but has never resided in the US and does not consider it his homeland. I know there are others who see this man as an asset of great value. I do not. I would like to see him identified as a draft dodger and arrested and placed at Leavenworth. He is extremely dangerous.
The following is an evaluation that was begun by our chief psychiatrist Dr. David Lebowitz. He was, and I emphasize “was,” one of our finer doctors and highly trained, experienced and well qualified for this work. I personally recommended him. We both approached this as routine, a regrettable mistake as you will see. The evaluation was then taken over by Dr. Robert Stegner, our former chief psychologist in Southeast Asia and an expert on coercion and torture. Note: Former. I subsequently concluded the evaluation and have summarized their clinical observations and notes from what I could determine after extensive analysis of the audio/video recordings. I would recommend you watch these recordings which I, and several expert colleagues, have repeatedly tried to analyze. Regrettably, we collectively remain mystified.
Redacted—The following notes are from Dr. Lebowitz:
This is the initial interview of candidate J. D. Mikel (an assumed name by which he will be referenced). This young man arrived on time for his interview at 0830 hours at the medical facility. He presents as a tall and physically fit individual of his stated age of 26. He has some unusual scars on his arms, the only visible area of inspection. He came dressed rather unusually in the local native costume of short breeches, embroidered smock and sandals. When asked about this, he replied I should reconsider my own form of dressing as I would be much more comfortable in this climate if I was dressed like him.
Mental Status Examination: The candidate was alert, composed and oriented X3. His concentration as evidenced by Serial 7s was exceptional. (What testing we could persuade him to do until he got bored with it revealed a Stanford-Binet IQ of over 165. It was not determined how he was cheating but we suspected it, as this is the highest IQ we have tested in the Company.) He initially seemed quite friendly and pleasant and cooperative and said he would be happy to answer routine questions. He appeared initially to have no sign of delusions or thought disorder associated with a psychosis; however, when I asked if he ever saw or heard things that others did not, he said that he often did and the inability to do so “was something sad he had noticed about Americans.” When I asked if he had ever experimented with drugs he readily confirmed that he had used opium, morphine, hashish, cannabis, peyote, assorted psychedelic mushrooms, mescaline, LSD, as well as various western pharmaceuticals such as amphetamines, barbiturates, mood elevators, even anti-psychotics, and also an extensive number of SE Asian and African hallucinogens that he is familiar with and I am not. Indeed, he seemed surprised that in my profession I “seemed to know so very little personally about what I was talking about” with regard to altered states of consciousness.
History: He says he grew up near the jungle, that the most important influence in his early life was “The Jungle Book by Rudyard Kipling” and that he believed one could live their life from this book. He refused to answer any questions about his mother or father. (We know from the Ambassador that his father was a Yale graduate, an operative in the early OSS during WWII and someone who had been very influential for us in Southeast Asia and was from a prominent Eastern family.) When asked about a formal education he said that he went to “the monastery.” When I asked him more about the monastery he said that he was sorry but that he could not say anything at all about his education there, other than he had studied languages. He reported that in addition to English he speaks French, Italian, German, Russian, Mandarin, Thai, Cambodian, Vietnamese, Laotian, Burmese (3 or 4 dialects) and several ethnic tribal languages of the region. He added that of course he also spoke to animals, and they to hi
m. It was at this point that I began to think he was delusional, if not psychotic.
Stress Test: As you know, sir, one of the signature aspects of this kind of evaluation is the “stressing” of the candidate. We try to make the individual as uncomfortable as possible with various kinds of provocative, confronting, even insulting and degrading questions to see how far we can go with them in order to get them to lose their composure and self-control. We also want to see how they function when anxious.
It should be noted at this point that Dr. Lebowitz composed no further notes, but it has been confirmed that the subject is fluent in all stated languages with the exception of animal linguistics. What we have for reference with the Stress Test administered by Dr. Lebowitz is an audio/video recording that has been exhaustively reviewed to produce this summary:
At no time did the candidate show any sign of anxiety or distress. After 5 minutes and 45 seconds of the stressing part of the interview, this is what the analysis of audio/video recording showed. JD began a kind of breathing that appears to be synchronized with the breathing of Dr. Lebowitz. We believe this was combined with a very slow, rhythmic kind of movement with his hands and body and that somehow these actions put the examiner in a deep trance. He then suggested that if there was a hidden audiovisual device in the room the examiner put both of his hands over his head and wave them about, which Dr. Lebowitz immediately did. He then suggested that the examiner take off all his clothes, which Dr. Lebowitz did. Next he suggested that the examiner talk out loud about his favorite masturbatory fantasy and go ahead and face the camera and enjoy himself, which Dr. Lebowitz did.