by Linda Hawley
I took in a sharp breath, realizing what they intended to do…and I was supposed to watch. Humpty wanted to inspire me to join the Project Continuum remote-viewing program by waterboarding Chow.
“No!” I screamed.
Psycho-doc slapped me across the face for the second time, with a force even worse than before. I stifled the words that begged to leave my lips.
“I’d hoped I could have already done away with your friend, but it seems he has another purpose,” he said, clearly disappointed. He then exited, leaving me in the room alone.
After the door closed, tears rolled down my cheeks. I’d never been trained on how to survive torturous drowning, and I didn’t know whether Chow had. My knowledge of it only came from a video I once watched at the CIA. The subject had died. With Chow’s broken ribs, I didn’t know that he would survive it.
The door opened to Chow’s room, and Psycho-doc entered. Through the glass, I tried to will Chow to live, my mind spinning as I tried to figure out how to prevent his torture. I desperately looked around my room, trying to find the cameras that I knew were there.
“Okay, okay…I’ll do it!” I screamed, unsure where to look. “I’ll be your remote viewer!” I cried, desperate for my captors to hear me.
I only heard silence in response. Looking back to Chow’s room, I saw his torturers upend him backward into the tub of water. His body fully restrained in the chair, he desperately tried to kick his legs out, with no success.
“No!” I screamed at the window. “Leave him alone! I told you I’d do it!”
As he thrashed his head around the tub, trying to find oxygen, Psycho-doc turned to me and displayed the most evil grin I’d ever seen on a human.
I tried to rock the chair I was strapped to, to no avail.
“No! No! You’re killing him!” It was too much for me to take in, and I sobbed. My cries echoed in the room.
Through my tears, I watched Chow thrash for what seemed like forever before he was pulled from the water.
He immediately began vomiting, just as the door to his torture chamber opened once again, admitting Grace. Her face was blank, hard, as she leaned to the doctor, speaking to him privately. Whatever she’d said, he didn’t like it. She then turned, glanced at the window into my room, and then went out the way she came, with a face like a statue.
“Traitor!” I screamed.
As the injustice of Chow’s torture stormed through me, rage brewed. I looked at the walls, knowing the hidden cameras were there.
“If you kill him, I will not be your remote viewer, and I will gut each of you with my own bare hands,” I said defiantly.
A key slid into the lock of my door, and Grace entered.
If it’s the last thing I do, I’ll make sure you’re dead before I leave here, I silently warned her.
“Time to go,” Grace said flatly.
Chapter 29
Face to face, I met with Humpty, agreeing to remote view for him. I was numbed out from seeing Chow waterboarded, but I bargained on his behalf with the director by explaining how I’d trained Chow in remote viewing and how naturally gifted he was. As a bargaining chip, I informed him that we’d learned how to identify other people while remote viewing, and I offered to train his viewers in the technique, in exchange for allowing Chow to remote view alongside me. He agreed. Then Grace joined us. The sight of her made bile rise in my throat.
“Please take a seat,” Humpty said nicely to her and then turned to me. “Ann, I’ve been informed that both you and Chow are lethal weapons,” he began, his shifty eyes moving over to Grace momentarily. When his gaze returned to me, he said, “To help inspire you to behave, I’ve taken out a little insurance policy.”
A sense of foreboding rooted itself in my gut.
What now?
He opened a drawer in his desk, pulled out a Kindle Elements, touched the screen, and then turned it around for me to see.
My heart immediately sped up as a sob formed in my throat. “Oh no…no, no, no…” I blurted. I could not suppress my emotion as I saw two men approach my beloved Elinor. Tears exploded from my eyes as my worst fear came true. I tried to block out the horrors I imagined were being inflicted upon my daughter.
With a rock-hard voice, he said, “We have both of the happy couple,” clearly proud that he had both Elinor and Eliott.
Oh, I thought desperately as I squeezed my eyes shut. I’m so sorry.
My despair was all-consuming, and I could not contain it. The only sound in the room was my sobbing—both Humpty and Grace were silent.
Opening my eyes, I tried to hold back my weeping. I looked at Grace, whose face revealed no compassion, only a blank expression. Then I looked at Humpty across the desk.
“What do you want?” I asked, quietly defeated.
“Your cooperation,” he said boldly. “I expect both you and Chow to be on your best behavior while you’re our guests.” Then he sat extra straight. “Now…a warning. If you harm a single person while you are here, or cause even a moment of unrest, I will have your daughter tortured and killed, along with her doting husband.”
I tried to suppress my warranted fear.
He continued. “In addition, I will film their torture, then have you restrained with your eyes open, playing it in a loop until you wish for your own death.” He smiled at me, as though he’d just given me a very helpful tip.
I nodded my agreement as I looked at the floor; it was all I could manage.
“Excellent,” he said, sounding quite delighted. “It’s a pleasure to come to an agreement that suits us both. You’ll get started tomorrow morning, after you’ve had a chance to rest.”
He motioned with his hand for Grace to remove me.
Humpty had struck at me with the one thing—the most important thing that mattered…my dear Elinor. Vowing to myself that I would do nothing to endanger my daughter further, I realized that I would likely die in this FEMA detention center. My hope for escape was gone.
As Grace came around to wheel me out, I looked at the floor, fully undone. She rolled me from the director’s office, back to my original holding room, and then turned and abruptly left without a word. She left the lights on, no doubt to watch me on the video monitor.
Not more than five minutes later, Charlie returned. After closing the door, he quickly approached me. “Let’s get these ugly things off y’all,” he said quietly, motioning with his fingers to my restraints.
I no longer cared whether they stayed on or were removed, but I nodded slightly anyway to let him know that I would comply with anything he asked. I was despondent. As I sat perfectly still, he removed all my restraints, and he remained silent himself. He stood after releasing me, and I sat in the chair, looking at the linoleum floor.
Gently, the Texan said, “I’ll be taking y’all to a room now. Chow’s already there. Y’all will be sharing.”
Looking up at him, I saw that his face was grim. I nodded my agreement and slowly stood.
* * *
After following Charlie down several unmarked white halls, he turned down one corridor that had rooms alphabetically labeled. He stopped at a door marked “S” and, using a key, unlocked it.
Before he opened the door, he turned to me and said, “I’ll be back at eight in the mornin’ to git y’all. Clean clothes are in the closets. Food’s in the cupboard. I even put some sweet milk in the fridge.” He stopped speaking and seemed to be considering something. Then he said very quietly, “You may need to help Chow—he looks like he’s been rode hard and put up wet.” He then opened the door wide and ushered me in, locking it behind me.
Huh? I had no idea what he meant.
I looked across the room to Chow. He was moving to get off the bed to greet me.
“Stay there,” I told him. He was pale—like death—worse than when I had seen him being tortured. I rushed to him, drawing him into my arms, carefully holding him. “Oh…what have they done to you,” I said, my eyes again filling with tears.
�
��I think you know,” he said, his voice raspy.
I sat with him for some time, shedding tears not only for what he’d endured—and what they forced me to watch—but for Elinor and Eliott too. It seemed that everyone I loved suffered because of me. When I’d exhausted myself, I stood to help him.
“Let me see what I can do to help you,” I said quietly.
He didn’t disagree, which wasn’t like him. He lay back on the bed in significant pain.
“Let’s start with some ice on your eyes. You’re very swollen, and at least you’ll be able to see, if I can get the swelling down,” I said, hopeful that I could do something to help him.
He didn’t reply.
Looking around our room for the first time, it reminded me of a standard-issue Air Force dorm room. There were two single beds placed in an L, head to head. On the far end of the room was a simple bathroom with a shower; I grabbed a hand towel. Two closets stood on one wall by the door; I could see clothes hanging in them. To the side of each closet was a chest of drawers. Between them was a tiny kitchenette with a microwave on the counter, a cupboard above, and a dorm-sized refrigerator below. On the counter was a comprehensive first-aid kit.
That’ll be useful.
Opening the fridge, I found it stocked with food and drinks, as was the cupboard above. I worried that there would be no ice in the tiny freezer, considering the space, but to my surprise, there were four gel icepacks already frozen. I removed two of them and returned to Chow.
“Is it hard to lie on your back?” I asked, noticing that he was lying on his side.
“Pneumonia prevention,” he said simply.
“Good idea. I’ve got gel packs for your eyes,” I explained, since he couldn’t see.
I put the hand towel over his eyelids, followed by the icepacks, and he grimaced.
“This will help, Chow,” I said, trying reassure him. “I need to look at your chest,” I said next, pulling up his bloody shirt slightly.
I grimaced at what I’d glimpsed. He remained silent.
“I need to cut this shirt off of you,” I said, standing to return to the first-aid kit.
After cutting off his shirt with small, tip-rounded safety scissors, I saw that he wasn’t just bruised around his ribs, but half his torso was black, blue, and purple. Those marks continued to his sides and back.
“This is more than broken ribs,” I said carefully, trying not to alarm him.
“I know.”
“What are your symptoms?”
“Pain, mostly…”
“Do you have pain when breathing?”
“Yes.”
That’s broken ribs.
“Are you coughing up blood?”
“I try not to cough.”
“But when you do, do you cough up blood?”
“No idea. I can’t see.”
Grimacing, I tried to remember the book I’d read on field injuries.
“I don’t want to probe your ribs. It’ll only confirm what I already suspect—that you have broken ribs.”
“I appreciate that,” he said gratefully.
“What about urine?” I asked, all modesty between us long gone.
“What about it?” he asked.
“Well…can you go at least?”
“Yes.”
“Then that’s more good news. It’s important that you do all you can to breathe deeply, even though it’s gonna hurt pretty bad,” I said.
“Thanks, Coach.”
I smiled at him, another tear escaping my eyes in honor of his bravery.
“I think it’s best if you lie here with the ice packs on for about twenty minutes. During that time, I’ll take a shower and get myself cleaned up.”
“Since my eyes are swollen shut, you will have to tell me, Ann. Are you injured?” he asked compassionately.
“After all you’ve endured, the fact that you’re asking me at all is very kind. I’m fine, Chow…really. I took two slaps to the face that’ll bruise me later, but I’ll live.”
He nodded. “I can guess who slapped you.”
“Yes, you can. Let me take a shower and clear my thoughts. Then I really need to talk to you about something important.”
“Of course,” he agreed.
“Rest,” I said, drawing out the word.
“Yes. Rest is a good idea.”
I stood, looking him over. “After my shower, I’m gonna give you a sponge bath,” I said, eager to clean up his bloody and bruised body.
The ends of his mouth lifted upward.
“I’m sure they’ll enjoy watching that,” I said, bringing reality back to our situation.
I was sure our room was wired for both audio and video.
* * *
I scrubbed the blood and filth off my body and then repeated it again, trying to bring myself back from the hopelessness I felt.
After drying off, I moved from the shower to the small room that held the toilet. As I sat down, I reached over to the toilet paper and then stopped as though my arm was frozen. The words were written on the toilet paper itself.
No camera in this room. Flush this evidence.
We have an ally inside, I thought, and my spirits immediately lifted.
Chow and I could now communicate privately.
Who’s the ally? I wondered.
I tore off the message and dropped it into the toilet. Jean-Pierre said that there was someone inside Project Continuum who was GOG, he just didn’t say who it was. As my spirits rose, I tempered my excitement by the reality that my daughter was in their custody.
I can’t escape while they have her.
I told Chow about Elinor and Eliott’s abduction, remembering that we were being watched. As he listened, his demeanor darkened. He was silent for some time.
Then he said, “I will die here—by your side—to save them.”
It was a decision, not a gesture. I kissed him gently on the cheek, grateful for his devotion. After cutting off the rest of his clothes, I delicately gave him a sponge bath. He then quickly fell asleep. Changing his ice packs throughout the night and keeping over-the-counter pain medicine in him, I barely slept.
By morning, I was relieved to observe that he could see again. He was still in significant pain, he had trouble walking, and his mood was low. I helped him into the bathroom, where I’d left a note.
No camera here. Now we can communicate. Flush the evidence.
When he came out of the bathroom, I looked at him. His gentle smile said it all.
Chapter 30
At eight a.m., we heard the door key. We were ready for our release. When I saw the wheelchair, relief washed through me knowing Chow wouldn’t have to walk.
Charlie deposited us in the front of a new room. He motioned for me to sit in a chair right next to Chow and then left. He’d barely said a word to us, which was an utter contrast from the day before.
From the room’s seating arrangements, I realized that it was designed for training. I could have been back at the CIA, for the room mimicked the remote-viewing room all those years ago.
Grace probably designed it, I thought, pushing my gall towards her into the box inside of me, to open later.
I couldn’t afford to show any anger toward her or anyone, as long as Elinor was being held hostage.
This new room was the antithesis of the other spaces I’d been in so far. There was soothing color, small, comfortable seating areas, and mood lighting. Something was off about the room, though, and I looked around, trying to identify it. Then I realized—there wasn’t a single computer or electronic device visible.
That’s odd.
The same door we’d entered in swung open, and Grace entered purposefully, with a group of people following her. I counted two dozen, nearly evenly split by gender. Obviously, it was the Project Continuum remote-viewing team. One of the men turned up his nose at us, and two of the women’s faces turned to stone once they got a glimpse of Chow.
Do they pity him? Do they think it could happen to th
em? Do they hate us because we’re from the other side? Or have these people seen us before in one of their remote views?
I wondered about it all, knowing I would never learn the answer.
* * *
The next day, Charlie brought us to another room to meet with Grace and her senior viewer. He left us there alone, awaiting their arrival; he barely spoke to us for a second day.
The room looked like an operations command center.
It could be Grace’s office.
But I certainly wasn’t going to ask her. The square room had three large whiteboards, each filling their own wall. The fourth wall held a large world map. I read the whiteboards with curiosity. One of them particularly interested me when I saw this list:
RV Target Name – Location—Result
Bund Hotel—Shanghai, China—Destroyed
Petit Hotel Kaikouen—Miyako, Japan—Damaged
Sangam Hotel—Muzaffarabad, Pakistan – Destroyed
…
The list continued to more than two dozen targets. The Bund is what initially caught my eye, but the first three locations rang warning bells in my mind. I approached the wall map and discovered corresponding pushpins for the cities on the list.
As I looked at each location, I remembered Sinéad streaming a newscast for me that featured the damage of the Petit Hotel by the 2011 Japanese Tsunami, caused by an earthquake. I also recalled reading a newspaper in 2005 about Doctors Without Borders working in Pakistan after the massive earthquake there. Of course, the Bund Hotel had been destroyed by a massive earthquake.
Three hotels…and three earthquakes.
As I stared at the map, a dark realization jolted me.
They’re creating the earthquakes. That’s why they’re tracking them.
Grace entered the room. When she saw me at the map, she stopped in mid-step. I looked into her eyes, which had turned to cold marble.
