THE CONTROLLER-Obsession

by Jerry Bruce

  Richard sometimes wondered how he was going to get through the next few months and if he hadn’t bitten off more than he could chew. He was getting by on just a few hours sleep every night; surely this eventually would catch up with him.

  * * *

  Veronica suspected that something was amiss when Richard called to make sure that she would be available on the weekend. He hadn’t been home since they decided to separate, always sending his chauffeur in his stead to fetch any clothing or other personal items. Veronica had already consulted with her attorney and knew where she stood regarding her claim to any jointly owned assets. With her own wealth established before she and Richard married, she didn’t need any of the possessions they had accumulated together. The items she was interested in were valued more in terms of sentimentality than money.

  Financially she had no worries, but her mental wellbeing was another issue entirely. Veronica had been seeing a psychiatrist regularly since the separation with the hope she would be able to come to grips with her own demons. It didn’t help that she couldn’t make mention of the Controller as the primary force behind her estrangement. This frustrated her doctor as he could see that there was something she was holding back, something that was stonewalling his efforts to identify the source of her problems. But in spite of his cajoling she was relentless in her determination to keep the Controller a secret in the vain hope that the doctor could somehow work a miracle and solve her problems even though his hands were tied.

  Veronica greeted Richard with a warm smile and a hug that he returned with honest emotions. “It’s good to see you Ronnie. How have you been doing?”

  “I’ve been doing as well as can be expected given the circumstances. To what do I owe the honor of your presence? Wait … I said that all wrong. I’m not being facetious so please don’t take it that way.”

  “Don’t worry, I know what you meant. I figured it was time we sat down and discussed what the future holds for us.”

  “I suppose it is about time. Come on in. Why don’t you make us both a drink?”

  Richard went to the bar at the far end of the living room and found it stocked just the way he preferred. All the various liquors were arranged by type and brand with each decanter outfitted with a gold-toned nameplate. He made Veronica a gin and tonic and for himself a scotch and water. He purposely walked slowly back to the sitting area so that he could see where Veronica would sit, wanting to be opposite her. Veronica took a seat in one of the armchairs and after handing her the drink, Richard sat himself on the facing couch.

  “So, I assume that you wanted to discuss the terms of divorce. I’m correct am I not, Richard?”

  “Yes, I’m afraid so. I just don’t see any other alternative, Ronnie. We’ve come to an impasse through circumstances that neither of us could control.”

  “Yes, I came to the same conclusion shortly after we separated. I figured that when the time was right for you that we would be having this conversation. I’ll make it easy for you. I consulted an attorney several weeks ago and we decided that the simplest method is to have each of us keep what we brought into the marriage. I was independently wealthy before our marriage and have increased that wealth even more. You were still struggling to become established and didn’t have much, but over the years we’ve been together, you have done quite well for us. I feel you deserve to keep everything that we acquired during the marriage. That includes the homes, bank accounts and stock portfolios that are in both our names.” Before Richard arrived Veronica swore she wouldn’t get emotional and she succeeded so well that her attitude was similar to what a lawyer might display.

  “Yes, I see you have given this some thought. I appreciate your generosity. You are entitled to keep everything that is in your name, of course. I am flexible on some of the other things though. For example, this house, I really have no need for it and if you wanted to remain living here, I would have no objection to signing it over to you.” In spite of Veronica’s offer, Richard was going to stick to his outline for the division of community property.

  “That’s very nice of you Richard. I have grown fond of this house, and I’ll admit that the though of packing and moving isn’t my idea of a fun time.” Veronica feigned a smile.

  “Then it’s decided; you keep this house. And if you later think of anything else you would like to have, just let me know. If you have your lawyer draw up the paperwork, I’m sure we can settle this in minimal time.” Richard reached into his shirt pocket and retrieved his attorney’s business card and placed it on the cocktail table. “Just send the papers to my lawyer.”

  “Well, I guess that’s it then. There is one other thing we need to talk about, the children. They have had an idea for some time that things were not well with us. I haven’t said anything to them, have you, Richard?”

  “No, nothing at all. How would you suggest we handle the situation?”

  “Well, I think we need to be up front with them. It isn’t as though they are juveniles anymore. They are grown up enough to grasp the situation. I believe that we should maintain a friendly relationship for their sake.”

  “Yes, I agree. I don’t think we should tell them anything but that we simply have grown apart and feel that this is the best course for us.” Richard didn’t come right out and say that the Controller should remain a secret but the implication was clear to Veronica.

  “My thoughts exactly.” She set her drink down on the table and started to get up indicating to Richard that there was nothing else to discuss.

  “Thank you for your time and understanding. I truly would like to remain friends, not just for Randall and Jennifer’s sake but for us. There will always be a special place in my heart for you, Ronnie.” With that Richard started walking toward the door.

  “I feel the same way about you, Richard. I would like us to be friends and I hope you will find happiness.” With that Richard closed the door behind him and left the house for the last time. As Veronica turned away from the door, the realization that it was truly over between her and Richard caused her to fall to her knees, tears in her eyes. She remained in that position for several minutes, sobbing uncontrollably. Finally regaining her composure, Veronica, ever the neatnik, proceeded to gather up their drink glasses. She took them to the kitchen, rinsed them, and placed them in the dishwasher.

  Veronica gave the living room the once-over before going upstairs to her bedroom, where she would once again give in to her emotions and eventually cry herself to sleep.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Vale wanted to give Wilkins one last opportunity to reveal his secrets without any provocation. This was more to put his own mind at ease as anything else; he had never gotten used to the sometimes-brutal interrogations he was required to conduct. Even the many interrogations he performed in foreign war zones didn’t harden him to the anguish his subjects suffered. He reflected, many times over, that he was fortunate to maintain his repulsion at some of the acts required of him; so many of his compatriots grew to relish the opportunities to administer pain. He hoped he never reached that point. So it was with significant hope that he could talk Wilkins into cooperating.

  Wilkins had been lying on the bed in the interrogation room, staring up at the plain white ceiling. He memorized every detail, every flaw in the plaster, and every minute difference in the texture. He totally ignored the agent sitting a few feet away as he contemplated what was going to happen next. He sensed that Vale was a man of his word and would live up to his promises, good or bad. His head was aching from the tensed up muscles at the base of his skull, throbbing more violently with even the most minor physical exertion. Wilkins shot up as if launched from a catapult when Vale entered the room and fixed his stare on Vale’s unemotional eyes. Even though the sudden motion caused a more intense pounding in his head, it didn’t distract his gaze.

  “Tell me, Wilkins. Tell me everything. I don’t want to hurt you. I guarantee that you will ultimately tell me everything no matter how hard you resist. Why not m
ake it easy on yourself and spill the beans voluntarily?”

  “I still don’t know what you want from me. How many times do I have to tell you that? I don’t know anyone who calls himself ‘Controller’.”

  “Okay, have it your way. I’m going to start off by giving you a shot of sodium pentothal. If you’re lucky, I’ll find out everything I want to know, but if your mind has been conditioned against involuntarily revealing secrets then … .”

  Vale went over to the instrument table and picked up a hypodermic, carefully removing the sheath that protected the needle. Picking up a vial, he pierced the seal and extracted enough of the chemical to weaken Wilkins resolve. He then took a cotton ball and soaked it in alcohol. As he turned back toward the bed he could see the fear in Wilkins’ eyes. As Vale swabbed the pale skin over the vein, Wilkins could feel the chill of the alcohol spreading over his entire body. He wondered how he could be cold and sweating at the same time.

  As Vale rubbed the cotton over the area he couldn’t help but wonder if the Controller had ever spent any time outdoors, so ashen was his complexion. Within seconds Wilkins felt the prick of the needle and shortly after that lapsed into a fog.

  Vale knew from experience just how much time that dose of pentothal would have effect and planned his questions accordingly. Dazedly Wilkins answered each question that Vale posed. There was no hesitation in his replies and Vale could not detect even the slightest hint of any subterfuge, presenting him with a dilemma. He was led to believe that certain information should be divulged before the interrogation could be considered a success, yet he was receiving answers that came up short of what was anticipated. Even though something inside him said he was being given the truth, he knew he would have to resort to other measures to be positive. He couldn’t make that call himself; only Thornton could authorize proceeding to the next phase, so Vale decided to contact Thornton for a determination.

  After Vale checked Wilkins’ vital signs and was certain he was in no danger of aftereffects from the substance, he summoned Nelson to sit vigil over Wilkins while he went into his bedroom, where he had set up an office of sorts. Sitting atop the card table that served as a desk, Vale had the laptop computer on which he prepared his daily agent reports that were encrypted and electronically dispatched directly to Thornton at five p.m. There was also the telephone they used to communicate with Thornton and the answering service. Vale had been instructed to call Thornton anytime he felt the interrogation had reached an impasse and not to wait for his report to be read. He was sure that Thornton wouldn’t like what he had to say but he had to make the call nevertheless.

  “Director Thornton, this is agent Vale. I wanted to give you an update on my findings.”

  “Go ahead agent, what have you found out?”

  “I’m afraid that I haven’t gotten anything close to what we are looking for, sir. I administered sodium pentothal and ran through all the questions. I’m reasonably confident that the responses I obtained were truthful. This doesn’t rule out the highly improbable ability of the subject to resist the chemical however.”

  “Agent Vale, we have to be absolutely positive that we get as much out of the subject as possible. If there is any possibility that he could defeat the pentothal then we need to look at alternatives. I authorize you to proceed to the next step, and if that achieves similar results, then I will decide if we proceed to phase three … just get me results that I can be certain reflect the truth. Do I make myself clear?”

  “Quite clear, sir. I will proceed to the next level.”

  * * *

  “How do you think things are going?” Christine was suffering a great deal of anxiety since Wilkins was kidnapped. While she wanted to know for certain whether or not Wilkins was the Controller, something inside of her kept her on edge. Perhaps it was the knowledge that if Wilkins proved to be the Controller, the battle would have been won and the war that much closer to being over.

  “I’m sure Thornton will contact us the minute he has anything significant to report.” Richard was as much on edge as Christine but he tried to disguise it with a nonchalant demeanor. “Relax, have some more wine.” Richard poured Christine some more merlot.

  “I wish I could relax. I guess the waiting is what is getting to me.”

  “It hasn’t been that long, Christine, just a few hours. We knew going into this that it could take days or even weeks to get anything out of Wilkins. You have to resign yourself to that.”

  “I know, Richard. I guess I’m not the patient type. I’ve never felt so helpless. I’ve always been in control, pardon the pun, and now I feel like I have no power to influence the outcome.”

  “Believe me, I know exactly what you mean. I’ve had the same feeling for years.

  “I’m sorry, honey. I keep forgetting that you have had to deal with this maniac for the better part of a decade, with no one to talk to about the situation. For the life of me, I’ll never understand how you’ve managed to cope.”

  “It’s all a big front, I’m just good at disguising my emotions when it comes to the Controller. I guess it must be due to all the conversations I’ve had with the Controller over the years. He has never shown any emotion is his discussions with me—quite the opposite in fact. He is one cold bastard. I can imagine what the agents interrogating him must be thinking. Anyway, let’s change the subject. Let’s talk about our future, shall we?” Richard raised his glass toward Christine for a toast. “To us.”

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Richard was emotionally drained yet relieved that he had finally talked things over with Veronica. No matter how unpleasant, it needed to be done so that they could both move on. Maybe now he could get back to taking care of business. Now that one distraction had been laid to rest, he could devote more time to the Controller. He was about to call in Christine and Adam to go over their progress when the intercom interrupted his thoughts.

  “Mr. President, CIA Director Thornton is on the line.”

  “Thank you, I’ll take the call.”

  Richard wondered why Thornton would be calling. It couldn’t be good news this soon, or could it?

  “Hello director. May I assume that you have some good news for me?”

  “I didn’t want to bother you last night. I didn’t feel that the information warranted. I heard from one of my people. The subject seemed to be telling the truth while under the influence of the drug that was administered as part of phase one.”

  “Why do I have the feeling that we are about to have a ‘good news, bad news’ conversation?”

  “Well, while we feel we may have gotten the truth, the answers were in conflict with what we were expecting—based upon the information you provided. That’s why I wanted to speak with you. It’s been proven that it’s possible to lie even while under the influence of a drug such as sodium pentothal. I’ve already authorized my agent to proceed with the next step, a polygraph examination. If we do not receive decisive results from that, we will proceed with the next phase. Sir, would you like me to elaborate as to the methods we will be using, should the polygraph not satisfy us?”

  Richard wasn’t sure he wanted to know the details. A part of him wanted the satisfaction of knowing all about each minute of discomfort that the Controller was suffering, while the gentler Richard wanted only to put an end to this matter. “I would prefer to remain objective. If I knew the details, I might be inclined to show some sensitivity to our subject. I cannot allow myself that indulgence—this is far too critical. You have my support on whatever means you need to employ to obtain the truth. The truth is the bottom line.”

  “Very well, sir. I’ll keep you informed.”

  “Thank you, Charles.”

  * * *

  Richard called Christine and Adam into his office after giving himself a few minutes to gather his composure. The thought of what might be required to get to the truth with Wilkins upset him a great deal. It wasn’t in his nature to be brutal, yet he had just given authorization for measures to be tak
en that he was sure would mean Wilkins would suffer great pain.

  Richard’s secretary showed Christine and Adam in as soon as they arrived, bringing in a fresh coffee service as well.

  “Make yourselves comfortable. I wanted us to get together for an update session. I’ll lead things off. I just got off the phone with Director Thornton. Apparently they are conducting the interrogation of the Controller in phases. The first step was the administering of truth serum, sodium … ”

  “Pentothal, sodium pentothal.” Adam jumped in to help Richard’s memory.

  “Yeah, that’s it. From what the agents told the director, it appears that Wilkins was telling the truth in his answers. However, the responses aren’t what we were looking for; his answers denying any knowledge of the term ‘Controller’ seemed to be plausible. Thornton did tell me that it’s possible to defeat the drug, in rare circumstances. So they are going to proceed with the next step, which is a lie detector test. Then if that is inconclusive, it’s on to the next phase.”

  “What is the next phase?” Christine was leery of asking lest she not like the answer.

  “I told Thornton I didn’t want to know. I doubt any of us want to know.” Richard let his emotions show on his face.

  “You can say that again. I’ve heard of some of our interrogation techniques and we are better off not knowing. Although I’m not going to worry too much about what the Controller is going through. It isn’t like he’s a lily white, innocent victim.” Adam in many ways wanted the reassurance that the Controller was suffering a great deal of anguish for all his past sins.

  “Rest assured, that’s the only way I can reconcile myself to the measures we may need to take. Anyway I would like to hear your opinions on what we may be witnessing. I mean to say, if Wilkins is indeed telling the truth that he doesn’t know of the Controller, then where does that leave us?”