His wife of several decades stared at her busy husband, hands hanging at her side and mouthed the words, “girly stuff,” rolled her eyes, then resumed packing.
____________________________________________________________
Dr. Leo entered the living room with Johnnie’s brother; the two were obviously well acquainted and of similar disposition, chatting as if today’s endeavor, “the hypnosis of Johnnie,” were as common as a trip to Starbucks.
Johnnie sat near Sandy on the couch; he affected his most convincing body guard disposition, which based on his size alone, took very little effort. Johnnie asked him to please stick around during the session. His presence was always comforting to her, even more so because he was as unaccustomed to the upcoming mumbo jumbo as she was. Even though she trusted her brother, he was “one of them,” one of those voluntary new age types; she felt more like a draftee to it all.
As she stood to meet the man, she told herself repeatedly that this whole thing was a necessary evil and may not only tell her what was going on in her life...but, she dared to hope it would give her some clue as to how to control it. But that didn’t mean she had to like it.
While she had expected someone who looked more like a magician or an escape artist, Dr. Leo looked like any other guy, in fact, his long sleeved pullover shirt and jeans made her wonder if he just dropped by here on the way to the mall. She knew from the information James had given her that he was actually a doctor of psychology who was skilled in hypnosis due to its analytical value. She’d raised a red flag to her brother, letting him know the psychoanalysis route hadn’t done her much good so far – but he assured her that this morning was all about memory retrieval. The doctor was a close and trusted friend, and he was there to help her learn; the seasoned professional had no way of knowing the session would result in learning, although his subject would not be the only one who would be exposed to new information.
Much to her chagrin, Johnnie instinctively liked the man; his down-to-earth manner took her off guard, and she was unwittingly becoming more accepting of this morning’s mission when he asked her what her greatest concerns were.
“Ending up on You Tube, walking like a chicken,” her response was immediate and everyone laughed but her. She looked around, smiled and shrugged.
“You asked,” she said to Dr. Leo. “I only saw one hypnotist in my life and he was on a stage. I wasn’t the chicken, by the way...and I left ten minutes into the show.”
She shot a wary glance at the recorder poised in her direction, which James operated. The recording was for her use only, if she desired; the doctor could only use or release it with her permission; but its presence didn’t help her already uneasy mind.
Dr. Leo, or Paul, as he insisted, explained that type of hypnosis...which was largely for entertainment was a form of direct suggestion hypnosis; his thing better resembled a guided conversation. He told her she would probably not only be aware of their conversation during hypnosis, but remember it afterwards; she would know who she was, where she was and what was going on around her. He reassured her, as she’d read the night before, that she would do nothing she wouldn’t do otherwise, and the only suggestions he may give her during the session were to obtain results she desired.
Then he asked her, point blank, what she desired. With her reluctant permission, James had told the man detailed information to assist during the session, so she didn’t need to say more than the simple truth.
“I want to know what’s going on...I want my life back. And if I can’t control it, I at least want to understand it.” She looked at her hands as she said it, then up at Paul. “And I won’t be mad at you if it doesn’t work.”
“Fair enough.” He replied.
But it worked...and then some, although the rules as Johnnie understood them changed almost immediately. Paul had no sooner told Johnnie to relax and find a point on which to focus, and she was out like a light; or so it seemed.
____________________________________________________________
Wing’s very brief sleep had been interrupted with intelligence updates that surveillance of Pakistani forces revealed they were poised to strike India in retaliation for the Iranian attack, although India had vehemently denied the accusation.
After a flurry of further updates, failed attempts to directly communicate with the Pakistani Prime Minister, and the negotiation equivalent of cage fighting with his advisors, the President reluctantly acquiesced to guidance of the Secretary of Defense and the chairwoman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff. American forces prepared for conventional air strikes and limited nuclear attack against Pakistan.
He stressed that this was a show of force at best, only, and preparatory moves for the ultimate worst case, which would be failed diplomacy. The word, “diplomacy” threatened a new round of debate amongst the nation’s defense brain trust, but Wing would not allow it.
When the rumbling started, the President stood to exit the Situation Room at a critical time just as he had the day prior. He pointed first, to the military leaders, then swept his hand to the other key individuals.
“Do it and control it and I need a statement for Pakistan within the hour. Burn up the lines – I want an update on that summit by noon.”
His body moved with conviction and confidence, but inside, he walked the emotional tightrope of his life as he led the parade of staffers to another part of the building. He dismissed them all, once in his private study, west of the Oval Office.
Wei answered the phone on the second ring.
“Good morning, Son. How is the free world?” The old man’s voice did not reveal that he, too, had slept very little.
“Dad, I don’t have much time, but how do we do this? How do we get her here?”
Wei had an idea.
Johnnie couldn’t remember ever feeling that relaxed. And comfortable; and definitely peaceful. She figured it would go better if she opened her eyes, but really didn’t want to.
“Johnnie.” Paul Leo had said her name...he must be ready to do this, and the way she felt, that was suddenly fine with her.
She could get into this...it was better than anything Sandy or James had ever given her in a glass. She breathed in and opened her eyes, expectantly, prepared to float back and retrieve her past.
But when she opened her eyes, she felt more like she was waking up than continuing in any kind of trance. The expression and demeanor of the men around her only reinforced her heightening awareness.
Paul still sat across from her, but rather than leaning back in the easy pose she’d just seen him in, he now leaned forward with an intense look of concern and thoughtfulness; she thought she detected some bewilderment. Had his sleeves been pushed up before? When she saw two empty water bottles on the table next to them, she knew hadn’t been there, she sat up and looked from James to Sandy.
Her brother was still next to the tripod which held the camera, but he had pulled up a bar chair and sat, resting his face on his palm, frowning with his mouth slightly covered. He narrowed his eyes when she looked directly at him, then leaned back with an exhale, glancing at the ceiling. His hair was mussed, even though it was perfect just a second ago.
“Wow.” It was all her typically well-spoken sibling could say.
The experts were speechless, but Sandy was already moving to her side as she confusedly swung her gaze to him. How come she was fine now and everyone else was freaking out?
The former bartender eased down next to her, and put his huge hand over hers. His look had fleeting elements of wonder oddly mixed with anger, but the overriding expression was one of concern.
“You back now. You OK?”
She leaned away from him, not to pull away, but to better examine his face. She was unalarmed, but completely confused.
“Back from where? I know I haven’t been anywhere this time...” As soon as she heard her own words, ‘this time,’ the old feelings of apprehension rose and she jerked her head to Paul, who had gained enough composure to a
sk.
“Johnnie, I know I told you you’d remember everything...but...” he shook his head and winced as he asked, “You don’t remember anything?”
“I thought that was why we are doing this!” she exploded. This was the time she would have least expected to feel like this again. She looked at the man closest to her, her protector, pleading,
“What’s going on?”
His wide eyebrows knitted, as he visibly searched for words, then her brother spoke up.
“Sis, it’s been over two hours since this started...” She opened her mouth, but words wouldn’t come out.
Paul, his voice weighted with the sound of misplaced responsibility, said, “I should have told you that the things we anticipated were the typical results of hypnosis...it does vary by person, but in some extreme cases...”
She found her words.
“So I’m back to being a case...” The frustration expanded so quickly, she felt the sudden need to stand, as if to provide more room, lest she explode.
“No...please, you did – provide information.” Paul said, compassionately, gesturing for her to sit down. At the thought of the possibility of new insight, she calmed enough to follow his unspoken suggestion. But when he remained silent, she shook her head quickly, hands flashing up with a look of, “Well?!”
“...we may need some time to interpret.” Leo started, almost in the form of a disclaimer.
Her brother finally stepped in, and standing, said to his associate.
“Paul...we knew this was uncharted territory going in. Nothing was typical and she isn’t a client. We asked you for help...let’s just tell her what happened, or show her the recording...”
“Please don’t talk about me like I’m not here.” Johnnie, exasperated and oddly full of energy, also stood, intending to walk toward the recorder. She knew enough about digital technology to know she could have instant playback.
“Wait...” Even from his sitting position Sandy was able to cross his long arm in front of her to stop her from moving. “Wait, Johnnie...” She stopped and he regarded the other two.
“Maybe she,” remembering her last statement, he looked up at her, “no, you, need to hear a little about it before seeing it.”
With an exaggeratedly suggestive expression, eyebrows up, he looked at the other two men.
“Yes...Johnnie, you took us on quite an adventure...it may explain some of your experiences, but there are still questions. Have a seat, please...James? She could probably use some water herself.” Paul’s mind and imagination, not inexperienced in the areas of psychological and hypnotic behaviors, sought for broader explanations as he tried to explain the unexplainable to the wide-eyed enigma.
__________________________________________________________
Byron and Margie were headed out of town and passed the Bloomington-Normal Convention Center. The towns of Bloomington and Normal, Illinois, were in such close proximity, they were often hyphenated, and even called, “Blo-No.” He only now thought of the irony that this whole journey started for him in a place called, “Normal.”
He chuckled as he reached for his travel cup. Margie eyed the Map-Quest print out. She pointed to print on the bottom of the page.
“We should be in South Bend in a few hours...Is this address our first stop?” She had been too busy preparing for the impromptu trip to participate in the planning, although she was now ready to re-engage as a full partner.
Byron downed his coffee as if it were water in a desert, instantly realizing he should probably power back a little if they wanted to make good travel time. Being a man in his sixties, he was only too well aware of the probable need for multiple rest stops in the event of too much coffee.
“Yeah, for now...that address is all we have to go on, it’s where they lived in ’87. They moved there from here; this is no-kidding, old school investigating from scratch since we don’t know if anyone there will even remember the Carters...or, who were they then? The Campbells? Anyway, it’s a start...I just hope she calls. Or Wei calls...”
She regarded him for a moment, and smiled.
“I take back my words from another time, Byron Hoffstedder, eternal optimist. Hope can be a good thing...especially when you won’t accept any less. In fact...I guess it’s our strategy, huh?”
His face stretched into a happy grin as he tilted his head and shot her a look. When was the last time he thought he couldn’t love this woman more? Well, it didn’t matter, because whenever it was, he was wrong. He knew he loved her at this moment more than he ever had before.
“Lady, if you weren’t already hitched, I’d pull this car over right now and propose!” She opened the thermos to refill his cup, and as she pulled it from his grip, she replied.
“To hell with that other guy...just ask me and I’ll say yes!”
_______________________________________________________________
Senior Airman Jason Barker entered his captain’s office.
“Close the door, Jason.” The captain and the airman hadn’t spoken privately since before Johnnie’s departure. The subject of the accident, as well as the woman at its center, had become taboo between the two of them. The fact that Captain Stass had not only called him in alone, but addressed him by his first name alerted the young man that this was probably not about the job.
The young man respectfully approached his officer in charge, unsure if he should stand at attention, or simply pay attention. The captain gathered some paperwork from his desk, stood and crossed to the small table that the two had shared with Technical Sergeant Carter on that distant Sunday, so many weeks ago. To Jason, it seemed like a lifetime.
“Sit down, this is off the record.” Jason felt a slight lurch in his stomach...until now, he was certain his meeting with, and information disclosure to Byron Hoffstedder had gone unnoticed. He had trusted the man not to divulge his source. Had something leaked? He was getting light-headed in an attempt to control his expression, while mentally trying to come up with an explanation, when the Captain slid a news release across the desk. The public affairs office received a twenty four/seven news feed from all major news agencies; this was NHN release from the day before.
“I know the international news has dominated the press, but did you see this or watch the conference about the JFK bombing?”
Jason almost collapsed from relief as he forced himself to scan the report in front of him. Of course he was aware of the bizarre and near-tragic situation at the New York airport, but had only caught bits and pieces of the news since the Iran attack and this morning’s White House announcement regarding Pakistan and the U. S. stance.
“I heard the basic information, Sir...pretty strange stuff, but I think everyone is collectively relieved it wasn’t a terrorist attack. I guess you could argue that it was domestic terr...” He stopped cold when the Captain slid a second paper toward him. It was the printout of a less than perfect photo, and it wasn’t a full face shot. But he was almost certain it was Johnnie and grabbed it for closer inspection.
“Isn’t this Johnnie? Sir, I don’t get the connection...”
The captain explained what Jason had missed in the brief and unrepeated news conference, that although authorities had a confession and a pile of evidence against the only suspect, they were interested in this person who had apparently tripped up the bomber’s actual plans, potentially saving hundreds of lives.
Jason was stunned, but possibilities, concerns and questions filled his mind. He had no idea what to say, so he said nothing as he finally relinquished the photo, pushing it back to his boss. The captain turned the image so he could inspect it in silence.
The young red haired man noticed a marked difference in the Captain’s behavior now as opposed to the last time they’d sat at this table. The fact that they’d not discussed their former co-worker and friend at all in the interim – not to mention that Jason knew the captain had some part in Johnnie’s discharge, made this entire exchange all the more confusing. The captain glanced
at the closed door, then explained himself.
“Jason, I did what I had to do with Johnnie’s situation. You didn’t know the whole story, but her behavior after that ...accident...made it impossible for her to continue on duty. I was in a difficult position.” He looked his subordinate directly in the eye, prepared for some sort of push back. While the young man looked somewhat defiant, he said nothing. Johnnie had done a pretty good job of letting him know no one could have saved her career, although he still didn’t totally understand, he no longer blamed the captain.
“I don’t know how I would handle it if we did it again...but I’m telling you personally, that I feel like I owe her. You and I, I think, know, even though we don’t know ... that she got a raw deal.” He paused; the man was in yet another moral dilemma, and appeared on the verge of making a different choice. Jason’s expression softened as he felt the captain’s struggle; he was relieved to know he hadn’t completely misjudged him in the months before the accident and subsequent events.
“I can’t say I disagree. But, Sir, what’s this about?” He looked at the papers between them, then back at his boss.
“The authorities want to know who she is ... and, of course, that would include her contact information.” He paused again, then continued. “This is thin ice, kind of like concealing the accident photos.” Just the mention of the pictures and what they implied changed the atmosphere in the room. Jerod Stass cleared his throat and finished.
“Jason, I don’t see that she is in danger – as you can see, the suspect is in custody and will likely not see the light of day again. But knowing Sergeant Ca...Johnnie – I don’t think handing her over for whatever kind of scrutiny and publicity that would follow is the right answer. I feel like I’ve sacrificed her enough, and I won’t do it again.”
It wasn’t a statement of a man attempting to justify his actions, it was a clear decision – do or die. Jason nodded firmly...he still was not ready to share his interaction with Mr. Hoffstedder, but he obviously agreed with the other man’s decision. All he ever wanted was what was best for her, and he felt – they both felt, she was not a willing participant in what appeared to be a continuing drama. And even if she was, she should still be given space and privacy. If she wanted to be identified, she could do it herself.
The Unlikely Savior (The Unlikely Savior Trilogy) Page 36