by Slaton Smith
He opened to the pages outlining Phase I, which detailed how they would find the candidates for the program. It was quite simple and quite brilliant. Government records and social media were the keys to finding the men that would serve as the vehicles to eliminate the threats on Waters’ list. As he read the document, it took him back a year ago to the first day he sat down to discuss the idea with Dr. McFarland, who had been working with the CIA on and off again for the past twenty years.
“Robert, thanks to the anal-retentive manner in which the government keeps records, we have a long list of candidates for this program. As you requested, we don’t want these men affiliated with the government in any way. We also need to make sure they are single, in their late twenties to early thirties, with no living relatives. In addition, we need to make certain they have average intelligence as our procedures would not be successful on the feeble minded,” McFarland explained.
Waters just nodded and scribbled some notes on a pad in front of him. He reached, picked up a steaming mug and took a sip of coffee.
McFarland continued. “The military has kept records of every man that has come into a recruiting station, filled out paperwork and taken tests.”
“I don’t want active duty personnel,” Waters said, getting impatient. He placed the mug back on the desk.
“Robert. Patience. Patience. There are a significant number of men who came in, filled out the paperwork, took the tests and for whatever reason, did not commit. We have all of their data. For the demographic we require, we have 7,258 possible candidates, based on age. When we run the universe through our screens, it reduces considerably. Dead or incarcerated, reduces the group to 5,978. IQ alone drops the universe down to 578 men. When you then look at those with no living relatives, that number goes down to 112. When we look at their physical descriptions, it drops to forty-five.”
“Great and how are we going to contact them? How are we going to get them into the program?”
“Social media. Specifically, LinkedIn. We have all of the profiles of the forty-five finalists. We reach out to them with the promise of a new career, a career with travel, great pay and all the things a twenty-something is looking for. We get them to interview and test them further. Psychologically. Physically. I am confident we will end up with twelve to fifteen solid candidates who will become our patriots.”
“Who will they think they are working for?” Waters asked.
“We have set up several shell corporations that you have generously funded. Their paychecks will be direct deposited. Likewise, all of their expenses will go on an American Express card linked to the shell corporations. A member of my team will manage them acting as their boss. I don’t have to remind you that this is the easy part.”
“Yes, it is the easy part. How confident are you that the science will work?”
“Well, Robert, we will lose some of these men and we are prepared for that.”
“How many did you lose in the tests?”
“We lost seventy-five percent of the detainees you sent to us,” McFarland responded, removing his glasses and cleaning them with a cloth he pulled from his jacket pocket.
“What was the cause?”
“The implant is, of course, one cause. We had made some small calculation errors and the result was death or the procedure left them in a vegetative state. But, the procedure was quick and left little or no evidence that anything had even happened. Our organic implant enters the diencephalon area of the forebrain and influences language and physical skills. The basal ganglia which controls muscle memory is also impacted.”
“The serum?” Waters asked next.
“Yes, we eventually lost everyone due to the effects of the serum. However, it happened over the course of fifteen to thirty days, which is all the time we need. The shelf life of these men will be roughly a month. Possibly less, if they are killed by your targets in the process of executing their assignments.”
“But it worked?”
“Oh yes, it works, but it causes the body to burn itself up. The men all experienced systemic failure. There is no antidote and no help to be had once the serum is administered. Their reaction times will increase during this timeframe. Strength is not affected.”
“How fast?” Waters asked, leaning forward.
“If you are fast already, you become world class. If you are slow, you become average. Average to good. Good to great. There is no doubt in my mind that we will have one or two men, maybe three, in this group that will be lightning quick, which will help you achieve your goals. It is a matter of shortening the synaptic delay or the time it takes for a chemical reaction to take place and transmit the data to another cell. Our serum speeds up that reaction, thus shortening the synaptic delay. There has also been quite a bit of research done on reaction times and IQ. Those with higher IQs tend to have better reaction times. The men with high IQs will excel.”
“After hearing that, the second piece, the hypnosis, sounds like the least of our concerns,” Waters added
“Correct. I am supremely confident in the mechanism to control the candidates given the length of time they will be active. The hypnosis really has no downside for us. Only you and I will know the triggers that will activate each candidate. Issues could appear the longer candidates are active. If the triggers are broken, for instance, they could achieve total recall, which I don’t have to remind you would be very bad for us and your mission. This is highly unlikely, however.”
“I am not worried about that. I will have each of these guys shadowed by a primary handler and a back up team. If they step out of line, we will terminate them. I have no intention of leaving anything to chance.”
“I knew I liked you Robert,” McFarland said, laughing.
VI
Let’s roll up our sleeves
Boston − May 3, 2011
Dr. McFarland and his team arrived promptly at 7:00 A.M., and began setting up in the situation room and in the lab on the floor below. The doctor went straight to Robert Waters’ office, knocked once and entered.
“Robert, the day is here!” McFarland said, clapping his hands together.
“Yes. It certainly is. Are you comfortable with everything?”
“Of course, once we have the profiles of each of the candidates, we will select the finalists in short order. It is quite easy to get them to our private facility here under the guise of a sudden sickness that will manifest itself once they are here in Boston.”
“Then get moving.”
“The team will be set up before 9 A.M. and we will start contacting the men as we discussed.”
The plan was set in motion and the lives of fifteen men would never be the same.
VII
New Opportunity
Pittsburgh − May 3, 2011
Sean woke up late, excited about his day of doing nothing. He looked up at the ceiling and threw the comforter off and rolled out of bed. He walked over into the bathroom to brush his teeth and looked in the mirror as he brushed. He had five days worth of beard going and needed a haircut. “I’d make a great hobo,” he said to himself. He put on an old pair of khaki cargo shorts followed by the same sweatshirt he had worn the day before. Bailey was still lying on the bed and he patted her on the head as he walked by. Naturally, she followed him downstairs and into the kitchen. He let her outside and immediately went to the pantry looking for some sort of junk cereal. He grabbed the first box he found, took a bowl out of the dishwasher and a jug of milk out of the fridge. He sat down at the counter and poured the cereal in the bowl followed by the milk. He sat there chewing and staring into space, when his iPhone caught his eye. He picked it up and went to his Yahoo Mail account.
“Hmmm. Two emails from recruiters,” he said aloud. He took a look at both emails. One was easy to toss. It was an energy company promising a rich and fulfilling life selling energy contracts to businesses. It looked like a scam. He deleted it. The second email was intriguing.
FROM: Thomas Hass
T
O: Sean Garrison
RE: Marketing Consulting Opportunity – International
May 3, 2011, 9:01 A.M.
Sean:
I ran across your profile on LinkedIn and would like to discuss an exciting opportunity with my client, Global Marketing Research. I feel your background is a perfect match for the position. Your strong restaurant marketing/advertising experience is what I am looking for in this role.
This is an international position, which will require travel to Europe and Asia.
There is a strong compensation package including a sign-on bonus, quarterly bonuses and an annual bonus based on performance.
Please let me know when you have time to discuss.
Regards,
Thomas Hass
SVP, Talent Acquisition
Global Talent Partners
617-567-0978
[email protected]
Sean read the email twice. A bonus? Bill Voxx didn’t know how to spell the word, unless it was a bonus for himself. Sean immediately dialed Thomas Hass’ number.
“This is Thomas Hass,” the voice with a slight Boston accent answered.
“Mr. Hass, this is Sean Garrison. I received an email from you this morning regarding a marketing position.”
“Yes, Mr. Garrison. Thank you for getting back to me so quickly. We have a client looking for someone with your background to help conduct research overseas. You have a strong restaurant marketing background, which is a requisite for this position. Do you have a couple minutes to go over your background?”
“Sure. This is a good time.”
“Fantastic. You have been working for Voxx and Voxx since college correct?”
“Yes and no. My last day was last week. I also interned for an agency in Dallas, Texas, before joining Voxx after graduation.”
“I am sorry to hear you are no longer with them.”
“Thank you.”
“Why did you leave?” Hass asked.
“I had a disagreement with the agency principal over a client service matter.”
“What was it?” asked Hass, following up on the last question.
“Great! Just great!” Sean thought to himself. He decided the truth was the best path to take.
“He told me to raise the fees of the clients I worked for and if I didn’t he was going to dock my pay and everyone else’s,” Sean answered
“How did you respond?”
“I asked if he was taking a cut, too.”
“And I assume he had not planned on that?” Hass asked, slightly amused with the story.
“No. He was not. He said I was insubordinate and asked me to leave the agency immediately.”
“His loss, Sean.”
“Thank you.”
“What made you answer him back like that?” Hass asked, the psychologist in him rising to the surface.
“He’s a bully. That’s probably the best way to describe him.”
“He sounds like it. I like the background, but let’s keep this just below the surface if you meet with my client. Just don’t bring it up,” Hass advised. He loved the answer Sean provided. It was very telling. Sean obviously had a very strong sense of right and wrong. It was a trait that could be manipulated.
“Sound advice Mr. Hass,” Sean said, relieved this line of questioning was behind him.
“Can you briefly outline your most recent responsibilities?” Hass asked, as he made some brief notes regarding the exchange.
“Since college, I worked my way up to account supervisor, was the youngest account supervisor at the agency. I managed a five-person team and was responsible for all media, marketing, merchandising and promotions in my assigned DMAs. All marketing decisions were based on consumer insights and financial analysis. In addition, I was expected to understand every aspect of my client’s business, from operations, P&Ls and product mix to staffing.”
“Good. Good. I assume your communication skills are solid.”
“Yes they are.”
“What about your foreign language skills?” Hass inquired.
“Non-existent,” Sean answered.
“I appreciate your honesty, thank you,” Hass replied, trying to mask a laugh.
“You’re welcome.”
Thomas Hass paused.
“Sean, I am going to submit you as a candidate to my client. They have a tight timeline to fill this position. How soon are you available?”
“I am available right away.”
“Excellent. I will be back in touch. In the meantime, feel free to take a look at my client’s website. It will give you all the details on the company. I will send you the address. Enjoy your day Mr. Garrison.”
McFarland had planned everything down to the last detail. Websites, press releases business cards.
“And you as well, Mr. Hass,” Sean said, as he hung up. He smiled as he let Bailey back into the house. He went back to his seat at the counter and looked at his cereal. It had gotten soggy and pretty nasty looking. He didn’t care. He had a good feeling about this job. The email from Hass popped up in his mailbox and Sean clicked on the link to the company’s website. He reviewed their mission statement and read the bios of the key people at the company. They also had an impressive client roster. Sean spent nearly ten minutes going through the site.
“I think this calls for a walk over to Starbucks,” he said to Bailey.
At the same time, five hundred miles away in Boston, Thomas Hass rolled back in his chair and handed his notes to Dr. McFarland, who was standing directly behind him listening in on the call. The room had been transformed into a call center, as McFarland’s team was busy reaching out to potential candidates.
“I think we have him, Doctor. He lost his job last week,” Hass said to McFarland.
“Sorry for him, but good for us. Get back to him in the morning and set up a meeting in Pittsburgh for this Friday,” McFarland directed.
“You got it,” Hass replied. He flipped to the next name on his list. He doubted they would all be as easy as Garrison, who had reached out to him. To hit the aggressive timeline, he was going to start calling people. The next name on his list was a man from Detroit named Oscar Pasco. Hass dialed the Detroit number.
“Pasco,” the man answered. Oscar Pasco at the moment was walking out of a pawnshop on 8 Mile Road.
“Mr. Pasco, my name is Thomas Hass. I am with Global Talent Partners.”
“What do you want?” Pasco snarled while spitting onto the sidewalk outside of the pawnshop.
“I want to talk with you about a job.”
“Doing what? And how did you get my number?” Pasco said a little warily.
“Research. Mainly in Europe. I understand you used to work for Merrill Lynch?”
“I don’t anymore, and I’m not interested,” Pasco said, ready to hang up.
“This pays six figures,” Hass added, hoping to save the call and secure the candidate. He knew most of these guys might see one or two paychecks before being sent to meet their maker, so he did not mind throwing out big numbers.
“Hello? Mr. Pasco?”
“Yeah. I’m listening,” Pasco answered, suddenly interested.
“Good. Let me tell you a little bit about what my client is looking for.” Hass went through another phony job description and asked a few insignificant questions. He could tell Pasco was more skeptical than excited, but he didn’t care. He also didn’t care why he was no longer with the brokerage firm. He promised to follow up with Pasco before hanging up. Pasco really didn’t care either. He was off to another casino.