“Not just his lapses in memory, Jake, but during his sessions, we haven’t seen any of the anomalies we’ve come to associate with an NDE. No video gaps or artifact, nothing in the way of sound distortion or static. Zip.”
Jake thought hard about this, and as he realized what the issue was, he grew angry.
“Dammit! I should have seen it. He’s faking it! He’s never had an NDE. He’s been making it up this whole time. We’re being conned.”
Teri, looking dumbfounded, shrugged her shoulders. “Why would anyone fake an NDE?”
“Let’s find out.”
Jake punched the abort button, shutting the machine down and ending the session. He walked over, raised the body mold up and began disconnecting Peter’s leads.
Peter looked confused. “What happened? Is everything all right? Were you getting a bad signal or something?”
“You tell us, Peter,” Jake said. “Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why are you here? Why are you wasting our time?”
“How am I wasting your time? I thought you needed subjects for your experiments. I’m here to let you test me and hopefully get some answers. What’s wrong?”
“What’s wrong is your so called NDE has holes in it. Inconsistencies galore. Every session is a different version. The one confirming aspect of all the other NDE’s we’ve recorded is the accuracy and consistency of the visions they have. Their memory of it is exact and the detail, phenomenal. With you, it’s like a lie. You tell it, and then when asked over and over again to explain the story, it grows bigger because it’s not the truth. Things change because you can’t remember what you made up. You had us fooled for a while, I’ll give you that, but you had to have known we would catch on. Now, I’ll ask you again. Why are you here?”
Peter’s whole demeanor suddenly changed. One minute he was weird, insecure, Peter Vargas, the next, he was something completely opposite. Peter rose up slowly and arrogantly.
He glared first at Jake, then Teri. “General Breckenridge will have to explain everything to you. I suggest you contact him. Be prepared to answer some hard questions.”
He ripped the remaining leads off his body and without another word, stood and strode purposefully out of the lab.
5
January 9, 2010 2:30 pm
Orange Park, Florida
Four hours later, General Thomas Breckenridge marched stoically into Jake’s lab.
Tall and solidly built, he stood well over Jake’s head. His hair was cropped short and graying over his ice blue eyes, and the uniform, impeccably neat. Jake could not find a single wrinkle in the fabric. Numerous awards and medals adorned the upper left breast of the dress coat and the two stars on his shoulder boards glinted in the harsh florescent light of the lab. He was followed by a Lt. Colonel Jake did not know, presumably his assistant. In his right hand, the General carried a large manila envelope.
The man looked angry. But so was Jake, and he wasn’t about to let this pompous ass push him around. He wanted answers and according to Peter Vargas, the General had them.
Jake and Teri had both been shocked at the mention of General Breckenridge’s name. The military’s involvement in Jake’s work was not widely known and some aspects of it were actually classified. So, when Peter threw out the General’s name, Jake had a pretty good idea who and what Peter was and what had been going on. It did not make him feel any less angry. Actually, it angered him even more.
“Dr. Townsend,” the General got right to the point. “I understand we have an acquaintance in common and you have some concerns about him.”
“An acquaintance? Concerns? General, you sent a spy into my lab, injecting false data into the system and possibly disrupting months of work. I want to know why?”
“Agent Smith, or Peter Vargas as you know him, was a necessary evil. The reports my department were receiving regarding your progress here were creating concerns that you might be getting off track.”
“Off track? What does that mean? I consider this lab and this project very much on track. Andee is, and always will be, a work in progress, but she is learning in leaps and bounds and is way ahead of anything else out there. How can she be ‘off track’ as you say?”
“This research using subjects of Near Death Experiences and the application of it is of little or no value to the U.S. Military. We’re providing funding for applications in your development of equipment which allows for access to the human mind. We are not interested in your ventures into the ‘afterlife’ and frankly, we find it somewhat questionable behavior for a scientist of your training and stature.”
Jake felt his face flush. “I don’t care what you question, General. You have no idea what is applicable or not in my research and I find it offensive for you to even suggest my behavior is anything other than professional. If I feel studying the feeding habits of gerbils to be beneficial to the outcome of this project, then I will study them. You are paying me to give you results, and I will arrive at those results in the manner in which I see fit. Do I make myself clear?”
“You just stated the obvious,” the General said. “We are paying you to give us results, and we are not seeing results. All I get is reports of loud noises and video artifact which can’t be explained. Then there are the reports of you suggesting to these subjects that they will be able to see and communicate with their loved ones who are dead. Are you a psychic, Doctor, or a scientist? What relevance do these things have to the work we are paying you to do?”
“They are the most relevant aspect of the study that I have. These people are extraordinary. Something has happened to them which makes them special.” Jake paused. “I believe they are the key to unlocking the mind so that the tool you seek will be plausible. Right now, all Andee can do is see whatever the test subject is thinking, and this makes Andee easy to fool. You and I both know that if you have information in your mind you don’t want shown to Andee, you just think of something else. But by studying these NDE’s, and finding what makes them unique, I should be able to pull information from any human mind like I’m accessing a computer. All of their memories, dreams, thoughts, and feelings will be exposed and readily accessible at the push of a button.”
The General considered this for a moment, looked Jake hard in the eye and said, “All right, Doctor. I’ll take your word at face value and go along with your thinking for now, but I still believe you’re keeping something from me. Some of your actions and those of your staff reported to me by agent Smith are somewhat suspect and the US Government is not in the business of supporting the supernatural. I’ll be watching you closely, and if I don’t like what I see, I’ll pull the plug on your funding and you’ll be out of business.”
“You’re one of many interested sponsors, General. Threatening my funding will have little impact on how I conduct my research. I have other investors.”
“Not anymore.”
He handed Jake the manila envelope he had been carrying, turned, and with his aide scurrying close behind, left the building just as he had entered it.
6
January 9, 2010 3:00 pm
Orange Park, Florida
“How did he get these?” Teri asked, holding the contents of the manila envelope in her hands.
“Who knows?” Jake said. “I’m sure he has resources beyond what we can imagine. What bothers me the most is the fact he somehow influenced their decisions.”
“I can’t believe First Coast Diagnostics and Out of Sight, Out of Mind Software just backed out like that,” she said, staring at the letters again. “Now, our only source of income is the U.S. Government.”
“I’m pretty sure that’s exactly what General Breckenridge wanted. He needs to control the whole show and doesn’t want any other outside influences delaying our work, or as he put it, getting us ‘off track.’ I need to speak with Bill over at First Coast Diagnostics. Let’s see what he says. Can you find me the number?”
As Teri looked it up, Jake read the letters again
, shaking his head in disgust. They were almost identical, basically terminating their relationship with the company and pulling any future funding they would have received. Their reasoning, though somewhat vague, was clear in its outcome. They felt that he and the lab were moving in a direction which did not support the company’s goals and needs.
“The direction in which your research is moving is not conducive to the productivity needs of our organization, therefore, we will no longer be providing funding for further studies on our behalf.”
Blah, blah, blah. The letters rambled on. Jake felt sick.
Unless he could convince their private investors to change their minds, they were at the mercy of whatever the military wanted. They could quit of course, but that word didn’t exist in Jake’s vocabulary.
Teri had the number and after dialing, handed the phone to Jake.
“Bill, Jake Townsend here.”
“Jake, hello. How are you?” Jake thought he could hear some tension in his voice.
“Not good, Bill. Not good at all. Why have you decided to pull your funding? I thought we had an agreement here.”
“You got that already, huh?” Bill asked.
“Let’s just say I got a heads up on what was coming. I called right away and wanted to hear it from you. What’s the problem?”
“The board members and I feel the path you are taking, is—uh, well—not the path we originally hoped for.”
“And what path were you hoping for? When you signed on, you knew exactly what we were doing here. What’s changed?”
“Let’s say you have some persuasive friends, and leave it at that. Jake, I’m really sorry it’s come to this, but my hands are tied. The board is in total agreement and they will not change their minds. You have some powerful friends—or enemies, whichever way you want to look at it.”
“I thought you, of all people, could see the vision of this project. I am very disappointed.”
“Jake,” Bill said, “I am too. I tried everything. Somebody put a lot of pressure on my people. You need to be careful. Good luck.” And he hung up without waiting for a reply.
Jake shook his head as he pressed end on the phone.
Teri looked at him expectantly.
“It’s just as I suspected. Somebody from the General’s office put some pressure on them. Apparently they were quite convincing. The board was unanimous. We don’t stand a chance getting them back. And Bill sounded frightened. He actually told me to be careful. Shit, this sucks!”
“I agree, but it’s not the end of the world. We knew the military was going to be a tough one to satisfy, but we agreed we needed their support. Now, we’re stuck with it. You don’t want out do you?”
“No. It’s all we have now. I just don’t like losing control.”
“I don’t either, but it’s sure better than packing it in and going home. Reading these letters gives me a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach, but losing all of our funding makes me feel even worse.”
Jake couldn’t decide if he was angrier at the General for getting the best of him, or at himself for jeopardizing all his work.
In reality, the General had been mostly right. Jake was off track. He was using all his resources with Andee in the hope he would be able to discover the secret which would enable him to see Beth again.
Jake was stringing the General along, making him believe he could produce something which he was no closer to producing than he had been five years ago. He hoped the General could be put off a little longer. Either that or some major breakthrough needed to happen soon.
Jake knew time was not on his side.
7
January 9, 2010 4:00 pm
Mandarin, Florida
Peter sat fuming in his low rent apartment.
He’d never failed a mission this badly before and was ashamed of what had transpired. He was sure the General was pissed at him. He would probably be sent back to Afghanistan, or Pakistan, or some other hell hole in the world as his punishment.
His secure cell phone went off.
“Yes.”
“Smith? Breckenridge. I know your cover was blown in the Townsend thing, but I need some additional work from you on the case. Are you still in the vicinity?”
“Yes, General. What do you need?”
“We have equipment planted in the lab and his office, correct?”
“Yes.”
“Good. I need those monitored and additional equipment placed at his house and cell phone. Any problems with that?”
“None what so ever, sir.”
“Oh—and reserve some resources for the assistant, too. I know she’s very involved in his day to day operations. They probably talk a lot.”
“Consider it done, General. Anything else?”
“Negative. I’ll expect weekly reports. If anything urgent should arise, contact me through the usual channel, immediately.”
“Yes sir,” Smith said, but the line was already dead.
Apparently he was still on the case and he smiled.
8
January 10, 2010 3:30 a.m.
Orange Park, Florida
Jake slept horribly that night with his recurring nightmare making its usual appearance.
He was at the accident scene, holding his wife Beth in his arms as the life bled out of her onto the cold black pavement. The strange light fluctuated, and at times, seemed palpable. Then the gloom would wane and become penetrable, like it was breathing.
Beth’s ashen face, taut with pain, conveyed the seriousness of the injury as her black blood flowed out from her wound in such copious amounts it covered the entire area, spreading out away from her in an ever widening circle of death.
Her head was turned to the side, facing away from him and she was muttering nonsense as he tried to console her. In the nightmare, he struggled to hear what she was saying, but could never make it out.
The same despair he felt the night of her death was amplified a thousand fold as he relived it again in his dream.
Tonight’s nightmare started like it always did, but finished much differently.
As he was leaning down trying to hear Beth’s muttered words, a loud thump shook the air around them and Jake, startled, looked all around the dream world trying to find where it came from.
“Whump!”
Another louder thump shook the air and rattled his teeth.
He noticed Beth had stopped muttering and looked down upon her. She stared right up at him, eyes wide open, ringed red against her pale skin. The color had drained completely out of her face, except for her red lips, and her corpse-like mouth was drawn into either a grin or a snarl. Jake could not tell.
She said simply, “Stop!”
Jake awoke with a scream on his lips and his body drenched in a cold sweat, gasping, the loud thumps chasing him into his room.
9
January 10, 2010 - 8:30 a.m.
Orange Park, Florida
Teri said, “What happened to you?” as Jake walked into the lab the following morning. “You look like crap.”
“Didn’t sleep well,” he said, and sat at the computer console cradling the cup of coffee he had bought on the way into the lab. He knew he looked a wreck. In the mirror at the coffee shop, he had seen his hair sticking up in clumps, and his eyes, bright red with drooping lids, felt on fire. His lab coat looked like it had been slept in.
“Worried?” she said, misinterpreting the cause of his appearance.
Jake started to open his mouth, thought better of it, and nodded.
“These were on the floor when I got here this morning. They must have slipped them through the mail slot in the door after we left yesterday.” Teri handed him two plain white envelopes.
Jake and Teri had closed up shop early after the incident with Peter, the General, and then the disappointing call to Bill at First Coast Diagnostics. They rarely left the lab early, but decided yesterday was as good a day as any.
Jake opened the envelopes, slipped the single sh
eet of letterhead out of each, glanced at them, and then tossed them on the desk.
“Official notice,” he said, and went back to studying his coffee.
She picked them up, looked at both and sighed.
“Ok,” Jake said, “what have we got today?”
“Nothing,” Teri said. “Peter Vargas—or whatever his name is, was supposed to be our subject today.”
“When does Rachael Swanson get back?”
“I’m not sure. She didn’t know. Her aunt is sick, and she didn’t have a definite return time. Do you want me to try and call her? See if she’s back?”
“No—no, I know she’ll contact us when she’s ready to get back to it. I guess we’ll review her tapes and see if we can find anything we missed.”
The front door buzzer sounded. Teri pressed the intercom button and said, “May I help you?”
“Yes, this is Madison McClaughlin. I’d like to see Dr. Townsend if he’s in.”
Teri looked at Jake questioningly and he shrugged his shoulders.
She pressed the intercom button again and said, “Ok Miss McClaughlin, come right in.” She buzzed her through.
Madison walked in, smiling. She was dressed casually in jeans and a sweater, but looked radiant. She was one of those stunning redheads who could make anything look good, and as Jake watched her approach, he couldn’t figure out why he hadn’t noticed how beautiful she was when they met ten months ago. She noticed Jake’s rough appearance and looked concerned, as if she had interrupted something.
“Have you guys been working all night? I hope I’m not disturbing you,” she said.
“No, no, Miss McClaughlin,” Jake said. “Please come in and have a seat. We just got here ourselves.”
“Please, call me Madison,” she said, taking the nearest stool and propping herself up on it.
Near Death (A Jake Townsend Science Fiction, Action and Adventure, Thriller Series Book 1) Page 4