by Thomas Shaw
Don shook his head in disgust. “Why are we playing with innocent people’s lives, just to see if our crazy programs are working; this is wrong!”
12
SAM was passing information to her subject as fast as she could, from her college background to her favorite books and hobbies. The moment of truth arrived as Debbie Taylor leaned over and removed the towel from Jim’s face.
“Well, you’re all done,” Debbie said, in her practiced voice.
Jim Peterson’s altered ego stood up, straightened himself in a Jack Nickelson sort of way, looked Debbie straight in the eyes and said in perfect French, “Vous avez fait un bon travail -- You did a good job.”
Debbie was caught off guard by the response in French. Her heart skipped a beat and her words came out anything but organized. “How did you know… ah, I didn’t cut your hair… it’s Kathy - she had to leave on an emergency,” she said, finally finding an opportunity to quit talking.
Who is this guy? She had never seen him before and she knew every customer who walked through the front door. He had the good looks of an Italian movie star and spoke perfect French. “How did you know I would understand French? She responded in French, slowly getting her composure back.
SAM had told him moments before that she had been studying the French language for the past 3 years.
Again Jim’s altered ego responded in perfect French. “I saw a picture of the Eiffel tower on the wall over your workstation,” he motioned with a hand gesture, “and thought you might be planning a vacation or maybe you are a student of the French language? Am I wrong?”
Again Debbie was stunned. “I’ve been studying French for 3 years and plan to vacation in Paris next summer,” she said, in English.
Debbie was trying desperately to get her wits about her. Why was she having so much difficulty with this stranger? She was always in control… always.
“Let me introduce myself,” Jim said, speaking English. “My name is Jim Peterson and I live in San Clemente.”
“Have you been here before?” The words caught slightly in her throat.
“I’ve been coming here for a couple of years now,” he said, with a calming smile.
“I can’t believe it, I’ve never seen you before,” she said, with honest confusion.
Jim quickly changed the conversation. “I also see, on your wall, that you went to Chico State. Were you a patron of the “Bear”?” “You mean the local hangout there in Chico?” She said, with an understanding smile.
“I graduated about ten years ago from Chico State,” Jim said.
“I don’t believe it,” Debbie said looking surprised. “I graduated almost six years ago from Chico.” She wondered suddenly if he could figure out how old she was.
“What type of work do you do?” she asked, getting her composure back. “I don’t think I’ve met anybody from Chico since I’ve moved back to Southern California.
“I’m in the construction business or to be more precise, I sell the heavy equipment that the construction business’s use.”
“Do you travel… much?” Debbie said, strangely curious why she was keeping the conversation going.
“As a matter of fact I do. I just returned from a business trip in France,” he responded quickly.
“I guess that’s where you picked up your French?” she said, sounding more intrigued by the moment.
Jim smiled, without answering her question but quickly added. “I was lucky on this trip because I was able to visit the Normandy area and see why World War II has made that place so famous.”
SAM had told him only moments earlier that one of Debbie’s uncles, who was only 19 years old, had lost his life on Omaha beach on D-Day.
Tears immediately started to well in her eyes as she listened to Jim Peterson alter ego, tell her about his experience at Omaha beach and the Memorial located on the cliffs above it.
“Did you know that all the crosses of the American Soldiers buried there are facing toward the United States?”
“I can’t believe it,” she said, choking back the tears. “My uncle is in that Omaha beach cemetery.”
“I’ve got an idea,” Jim said softly. “I have a few hours before I’m scheduled to fly to Atlanta. Why don’t you let me buy you a coffee or maybe even a cocktail at the Quiet Cannon over by Dana Point. We can take both our cars so you can leave any time you want. I’ll even throw in a free French lesson.”
“That sounds like a plan,” she surprised herself with the response. “I would like to hear everything about your experience in Normandy,” she said in French.
Ten minutes later Debbie had closed the “Wild Hair” and they were both heading down the Pacific Coast Highway.
The Quiet Cannon is a quaint little restaurant set on the side of a cliff overlooking Dana Point Harbor. Both cars were turning into the parking lot just as the sun was starting to change into a huge orange ball.
“Let’s have some fun with this,” Jim said, as they walked into the front entrance. “From now on we speak only in French.”
“Oui Oui monsieur,” she said, with a smile. What a beautiful evening this was turning out to be.
They found a little bistro table on the outside deck overlooking the boats in Dana Point Harbor. They both ordered a cocktail and were soon sharing a conversation in French about Jim’s recent trip to Normandy.
Debbie found herself very relaxed with this extremely interesting man.
From time to time the conversation would switch back to English when she was having difficulty following his train of thought. She was totally impressed with his knowledge of the 101st airborne division. This was the same division her uncle was in.
An hour had passed when Jim suddenly changed the conversation back to English. “Let me show you something I learned while I was in Egypt.”
“You’ve got to be kidding… when were you in Egypt?” She said, becoming more captivated with every moment of her new adventure.
“That’s a whole other story,” Jim said, quickly getting back to his instructions from SAM.
“Once you see how this works you can show it to your friends. Let me have a long strand of your hair,” Jim said, as he took the ring off his little finger. Debbie plucked out a long blond hair from the top of her head and dutifully handed it to Jim. Taking one end of her hair, Jim tied a loop around the ring with a simple square knot.
“Hold out your hand.” He gestured as he took the other end of her hair and wrapped it around her index finger, until the ring was hanging down about eight inches from her hand.
“Now make a fist and let your hand hold the ring just so,” Jim said, touching her hand for the second time. He took a small cracker out the basket and placed it on the table and positioned her hand so the ring hovered just about a half inch above the cracker.
“Put your elbow on the table so you can hold the ring over the cracker,” as he slowly released her hand.
Wow, what was that all about, she thought, as she felt the rush of excitement from the touch of his hand.
“Now I’m going to ask you to hold the ring steady over the cracker… don’t let it move.”
“Are you OK with this so far?” Jim asked.
“I have no idea what you are doing except that I’m to hold your ring over a cracker and not to let it move,” she smiled at his silly game.
“Now I’m going to ask you to close your eyes and listen to my voice, as I speak to you, in a slow deliberate manor,” Jim was pacing his words to a specific cadence; exactly as he was being instructed to do by SAM. “Remember, do not move your hand,” he reminded her.
Jim took a deep breath and let it out slowly. His voice was low and deliberately slow. “Let the ring… swing back and forth… back and forth… back and forth,” Jim was saying in a slow methodic cadence.
“Let the ring… swing back and forth…, back and forth…, back and forth.”
Jim repeated this cadence for a full two minutes when slowly but surely the ring started to swing,
just the slightest amount… back and forth. “You’re doing great… let the ring… swing back and forth…, back and forth.”
“Now let the ring swing a little more, back and forth…, back and forth.”
“You’re doing fine… now I’m going to ask you to open your eyes and look at the ring.”
Debbie opened her eyes and a slight smile crossed her lips as she saw the ring swinging back and forth over the cracker.
She didn’t say a word.
Jim reached out and stopped the ring and immediately started the process over again. “Close your eyes.” He said in his slow deliberate way. “Let the ring… swing back and forth…, back and forth.”
Almost immediately the ring began to swing back and forth with a three to four inch swing.
“That’s good… now let the ring… swing in a counter clockwise circle…, a counter clockwise circle.”
“That’s right… let it swing in a bigger circle…, let it swing in a bigger circle.”
Quantico, Virginia
The technicians were glued to the monitors, especially the audio. “I can’t believe it.” One of the technicians finally said, “This guy is a friggin Master Hypnotists. I wonder if I can get SAM to teach me how to do that?”
“OK boys; keep your focus on our project. This is only a test of his programmed abilities.”
Dana Point, California…
Debbie sat at the table with her eyes closed and her head tilted slighted forward. The evening twilight was settling in around them.
“Now let the ring swing in a clockwise circle…, let the ring swing in a clockwise circle.”
The ring immediately began to swing clockwise.
SAM interrupted Jim’s concentration with a short cryptic message. “It’s time… do it now,” was all she said.
Without hesitation Jim said. “Let yourself settle into a relaxed trance,” while maintaining the exact same voice cadence. “Let yourself settle into a deep relaxed trance…, a deep relaxed trance.”
The ring began to jerk erratically to the left and right.
“You’re doing fine,” Jim said, in his slow deliberate voice. “Just let yourself relax into a deep trance.”
“Now I’m going to ask you to put your hand down on the table.”
Immediately Debbie’s hand moved in short fits and starts, onto the table.
“From now until I tell you to open your eyes your conscious mind will not remember anything we’ve said; but your subconscious mind will remember everything I say.”
“Do you understand me?” Jim said, with more authority in his voice.
Her response was so slight Jim could barely hear the – “Yes”.
Jim took a quick look around to see if he had attracted any attention from the other patrons… everything looked normal.
“Do it quickly,” SAM said, “Then wake her up.”
Jim responded immediately, “You will find yourself sexually attracted to me. Each time you hear the words – Great Evening – you will become increasingly attracted in a sexual manner toward me. You will experience the same sexual desires you had in your second year of college.”
“Do you understand me?”
Again her voice was so soft Jim could barely hear the –“Yes”.
“In a moment I’m going to count to three and ask you to open your eyes. When you open your eyes you will feel relaxed and safe while you are with me.”
“Now I want you to take a deep breath… and as you exhale I’m going to count – One… Two… Three… open your eyes.
Debbie began to stir a little, then straighten her head and opened her eyes. She took in a deep breath as she returned completely to her normal state. “Wow that was weird,” She said, completely oblivious to the final step. “I could have sworn I didn’t move my hand but the ring was just moving on its own. How did you do that?
“It’s a trick you play on the mind,” Jim said, in an offhand manor. “We’ll have to get together again sometime and you can do it to me,” he said, looking at his watch. “Can you believe it? We’ve been here almost an hour… I must say this has been a Great Evening. What do you think?”
Debbie felt a warm sensation move down her flat stomach, then move between her thighs. “I must say, this has been a very enjoyable meeting.” Debbie said, feeling her mood take a sudden change. A change she hadn’t felt in years.
“Why don’t we split one of those huge Calamari salads, pointing to the table next to them, and call it an evening. Let me restate it… a Great Evening.”
The warm feeling flowed through her body once again but this time it seemed to start higher in her chest. “I’m starved and that salad does look delicious,” she said, looking at Jim more closely and noticing how sexually desirable he looked.
Jim raised his hand and their male waiter was at their table in a flash. “Ready for another cocktail?” the waiter replied
Jim gave a quick glance toward Debbie and was met with a smile. “Yes, another round of drinks and one of those big Calamari salads with two forks.”
“You got it,” the waiter said and he was gone.
While they waited for the drinks and salad, Jim began to talk about Normandy once again. “Sainte Mere Eglise would be a good place to start your trip, because this is where the 101st tried to parachute in on the morning of D-Day but due to combat confusion the airborne troops were dropped all over the place.
Jim talked a little more about the 101st Airborne and how Patton had brought his tanks up through France and crushed the Germen army along the way. But it was clear the thoughts of her uncle were having a negative effect on his mission.
The drinks and salad came and the evening progressed with normal small talk when Jim suggested they have a different type of French lesson. “Let me show you how different areas in France have different accents just like we have here in the United States. Let’s imagine we are in the Southeastern part of France, say around Mont Saint-Michel, do you know about that big Castle looking thing, out in the water?”
“I’ve read about that Castle, do you know that’s where the story about Jack-in-the-beanstalk came from? She said with a smile, like I know stuff too.
“I’ll check with Google but for now I’ll take your word for it,” Jim laughed.
“Anyway, let’s say you want to say – It’s a “Great Evening”, with the proper accent from this area, it would sound like this.” He proceeded to say – It’s a “Great Evening” – with a different French accent than she had ever heard.
The warm feelings seem to be getting more intense. “Now you try it,” Jim suggests.
After a couple of tries, Debbie finds it difficult to concentrate on what she is doing. “Does it seem hot to you or does this Calamari have more spices than I’m used to?” Debbie said, feeling her body flush once again.
“I’ve got an idea,” Jim said. “Why don’t we go to my place. It’s just down the road in San Clemente. I brought back some real Gelato Ice Cream from France and we can have a bowl while we catch the last of the sunset on my back deck.”
“That sounds like a plan,” she said, surprising herself with the quick response.
“It’s just North of the old Nixon estates,” Jim said, as he received last minute instructions from SAM. “It’s kind of difficult to explain how to get there, why don’t you give me your cell number just in case we get separated?”
Jim flipped open his cell phone and punched in the number Debbie was giving him. It was the same number SAM had given him earlier.
Quantico Virginia…
“I can’t believe it,” the technician said. “This guy is going to get lucky on the first try.”
“I wonder if SAM could teach me how to do that?” the other technician chimed in.
“Ok, boys… back to work, we’ve got a lot to do,” Dr. Merrill said, in his let’s get serious voice.
SAM had already sent the team of FBI agents, they had been using in California, to prepare the “Safe House” for its new occupa
nts.
San Clemente, California…
The FBI team had been hard at work for over forty-five minutes, ever since SAM had given the order to make this “Safe House” ready for Jim and Debbie.
Pictures of Jim playing football at Chico State, 800 thread count sheets on the California King Sized bed. The Jacuzzi was just hitting 103 degrees and the French champagne was dropping to a perfect 39 degrees. Clothes were in the closets and last be not least four 1-pint containers of Gelato, still in the shipping package from Paris were waiting patiently in the freezer.
Quantico, Virginia…
“How did they get that Ice Cream there so fast?” questioned the technician.
“By the time they get to the Ice Cream they won’t know the difference between Gelato or Dairy Queen,” said Dr. Merrill with a rare sign of humor in his voice. “Everyone has done a fantastic job, let’s get the hell out of there before we blow our cover.”
San Clemente, California…
SAM was giving turn by turn instructions to Jim, like an expensive GPS. He took the turns a little slower than normal but Debbie was sticking on his bumper like glue.
Finally they turned into a gated property lined with huge old growth Oak trees. The gate opened automatically when Jim pulled up to it. The driveway made a half turn around the right side of the house and ended at a three car garage. Before Jim could do anything the garage door to the far left opened and the lights turned on.
Jim pulled in and stepped out of his Nissan and signaled for Debbie to pull in front of the next garage door on the right.
