I reached down, unbuttoned my suit jacket, unbuttoned the middle of my white shirt and pulled it to the left. “I’m not invulnerable. Two bullets hit me in Paris. Although I was wearing a bullet resistant vest, still, the impact left these bruises on my ribs. Do they look fake to you?”
Kay sat forward and leaned her head toward me. “For the information of viewers, I can testify that I see two dark blue bruises the size of dollar coins on the left rib skin of Mr. Green Mask.” She looked up. “So you bruise. And can be hurt by the right weapon. Why do you put yourself at risk, then? Surely with your abilities to teleport, levitate, call fire into the air using pyrokinesis, read minds like you did mine earlier today and whatever calling down lightning is called, you could do most anything with your life that you wanted. Why endanger yourself?”
“It’s called electrokinesis, the lightning thing. Which also applies to electricity.” I looked up, saw four ceiling lamps, reached out to two of them, felt the flow of the current and told it to stop connecting with the bulbs. The light on stage went to half what it had been. “As you can see, I do not need to flip a switch or use a radio control to turn on, or off, the lights.”
Kay pursed her lips. “An interesting demonstration. Would you restore those lights? It helps with the quality of this simulcast.”
“Sure.” My mind reached up, touched the current flow and urged it to connect with the two large bulbs. Which it did. The stage lighting brightened. I looked to Kay.
“Well, let’s begin at the beginning. Earlier I asked you if you had any children. Do you?”
“Nope. Never been married and never had any kids,” I said.
“So you live alone?” she said.
“I do. It makes life simpler.”
“What else can you do?” Kay asked, sounding honestly curious.
“Well, besides what you just listed earlier, I can also affect the air and make the wind blow. A little.” Reaching out with my mind I pushed at the air lying between Kay and me. It responded. She looked startled. “The books call that aerokinesis. I can affect water too, a little. That’s called hydrokinesis. But when I’m busy like I was in Houston, I don’t tell the rain drops to leave me alone. Not worth the effort or the distraction.”
Surprise filled her face. “Fascinating. But again, why endanger yourself?”
Now came the time to share some of what I’d shared with Valery during our counseling sessions. “Well, both my parents are gone. Died some years ago. So I’m alone. No brother or sisters. But I remember what my Mom told me when I was young, just getting ready to go to first grade.”
“And what did she tell you?” Kay asked.
“She said I should use my special abilities to help people.”
♦ ♦ ♦
Andrew was back in the SIOC room, watching the video screen on the opposite wall. It held the BBC America simulcast of the interview of Green Mask. Richardson had called him down moments earlier, when Yamaguchi had alerted him to the video broadcast from New York.
“Richardson, tell me you are recording all this.”
“We are.”
He looked over to where Ethel sat. “Agent Lowenstein, add to your profile the facts that this man’s parents are both dead and that he has no siblings. Also that he lives alone. That should reduce the number of Southwest suspects our people are interviewing.”
The woman began typing on her keyboard. “Doing that. I’m also setting up a link to our field offices in Denver, Salt Lake, Phoenix and Albuquerque. I’m sure they will tune into this simulcast. Which is also going out on PBS Radio.”
Andrew looked back to the video wall. “Good.”
“Sir,” called Richardson. “Should I have the New York field office send some agents over to the BBC building? They could get there in ten minutes with sirens going.”
“Hold off. I suspect this Green Mask guy would sense them approaching and then would teleport away. Let’s listen. This stuff will help us tighten our list of suspects.”
He listened as the young man spoke to the reporter.
♦ ♦ ♦
Kay turned thoughtful. “So you’ve helped save lives in New York City, St. Louis, Paris and yesterday in Houston. You appear to be in your twenties. Why didn’t you start this helping of people earlier? Before now?”
How much to say and how much to keep hidden? “Hey, I’m pretty normal. I like to eat, I need to sleep and I need shelter from the elements. So I hold down a full-time job. Like most folks. It limits what I can do.”
Kay looked skeptical. “Well, it is clear you can almost instantly teleport your body from one location to another. Doesn’t that allow you plenty of time to help people?”
“It does.” I stopped talking. This was getting too close to my memory of my Dad’s death, my depression, my counseling and my recent realization that I could feel better by helping people . . . so long as I kept secret my identity.
She lifted her eyebrows. “So why don’t you do more?”
“Why don’t you do more? Because you have four kids. Because you are married to a nice guy. Because you have to commute to work. And because doing what you do requires you to do research on lots of issues.” I paused, trying my best to soften my voice. “Look, I do what I can. I have a job. I can’t be everywhere whenever someone is in danger. That’s the job of lots of police and marshals and deputies and the FBI, inside America. But I can help out with the hard cases. The cases where it’s hard to get to the bad guys.”
Kay leaned forward, her manner intense. “Are you limited in where you can teleport to? Or can you go anywhere in the world at any time?”
“I can only port to places I’ve visited in person,” I said, telling myself this limitation was already in the parapsychology literature. “So if someone is being held by terrorists in Timbuktu, you won’t see me there. Never visited the place, except by way of National Geographic mags. And pictures of places do not work for me to port there.”
“Fascinating,” she said. “Have you ever been to the White House?”
“No. And I would not port there unless I was invited. I’m no danger to national security,” I said.
“Who are you a danger to?” Kay pursued.
That should have been obvious after my four rescues. “I’m dangerous to people who take civilians hostage in order to extort some action by our government. I’m willing to go anywhere in the world to help save a life or lives.”
“Well, your Eiffel Tower rescue showed that,” Kay said quickly. “What other places in the world have you visited?”
This was getting too detailed. If I gave Kay a list of where I’ve traveled overseas, that might help the FBI track me down. Agent Van Groot was already suspicious of me.
“Lots of places that I won’t name. But like I said, I’m willing to teleport anywhere in the world to help save a life or lives. That’s what good people do, don’t they? Like during Katrina, hundreds of people drove trucks loaded with food and water to that city to help out people who were stranded and couldn’t get home. Or folks who had been flooded out of their homes.”
“So they did,” Kay said, her tone authentic. She tilted her head to one side. “Why did you come here this morning? Why did you want to be interviewed by me?”
Finally. “I came here to let people around the world know that I’m a regular guy. I eat burgers and barbecue. I drink pop and beer. I like good Mexican enchiladas made with blue corn tortillas. I like visiting the parks in the town where I live. I love forests and wildlife. And I hate to see good people get hurt by crazies who misuse religion!”
Kay sat back, her eyes squinting. “Do you have a religion? Do you oppose any religion?”
“None of your business about my religion. I could be an agnostic, like you. Or I could be a Buddhist. Or something else.” The quietness in the stage room struck me. I had rarely been in so quiet a place when I was around other people. “As for other religions, I’m an American. I support the Bill of Rights. People can believe anything they wi
sh, so long as their belief or religion does not cause them to hurt other people. If they hurt other folks, look out. I may show up and give them a surprise.”
Curiosity showed on Kay’s face. “So religion matters to you. Can you talk to the dead?”
I almost grimaced. Then I realized this seasoned reporter understood the issues that matter to regular people. “No, I cannot. I don’t hear any thoughts from my Mom and Dad when I visit them in the cemetery. Nor from anyone else buried nearby. Been there. Heard nothing. But I saw lots of loving devotion to those who have passed on by the displays of flowers, and tears.”
Her face went briefly sad, then turned intense. “Your telepathy allows you to read minds, right?”
“It does. But being in a crowd and listening to hundreds or thousands of thoughts hurts. So most of the time I put up a psychic shield. To block out the thoughts of other people. I usually don’t listen to someone else’s thoughts unless invited. It wouldn’t be polite.”
She half-smiled. “You place a lot of emphasis on courtesy and being polite. Why?”
“That’s the way my Mom raised me. To honor her memory, I do my best to rescue people held hostage or put in danger by whackos. And I don’t go snooping into people’s private lives, unless invited. Isn’t that how you live?”
She smiled fully now. “It is. It’s also how my husband and I raise our children. But this telepathy is a powerful ability. Have you heard the thoughts of whales?”
What the? “Never been close to a whale. So I have no idea what they think.”
Kay’s blond eyebrows rose. “What about the great apes? Surely you have visited a zoo while you were growing up.”
Her question made me recall several visits to the Albuquerque Zoo years ago. “Yes, I’ve visited a zoo not far from where I live. But I was younger then, and kept my shield up all the time I was out with my parents. And the chimps and gorillas I saw did not approach me. So, I don’t know how those primates think.”
She grew intense. “Have you been around when someone has died? What was that like?”
I winced. “I was around when the Empire State Building jihadist fell from the top of the spire and died on the roof of the 86th floor. His mind was filled suddenly with intense pain, then went blank. Same thing happened when I killed the six in Houston.” I looked away and over to the camera being operated by Doris. “People should know that I do not have the answers to the great questions. I’m no big philosopher. I’m just a regular guy who was born with some abilities that have let me save some lives.”
Kay sat back. “Can you teach other people to teleport, to read minds, to move stuff around with the power of their mind?”
Could I? “Don’t know. Never tried to do that. No one I work with or spend time with in my town knows about my abilities. I’ve never encountered anyone else who can do what I can.”
“So how are you able to do these mind things?” Kay asked.
I shrugged. “Maybe I’m a mutant, a guy with some special genes that no one else has. Maybe a special kind of radiation affected my Mom while she was pregnant with me. My Mom never said why I was the way I am. She just said I was a special person. A superguy. And that I should use my powers to help people.” I spread my hands to either side. “I’ve been trying to do that lately. I’ll do it again in the future, whenever some whacko puts lives in danger in order to make a political point. Especially if those lives are American.” I looked away from Kay and over to the camera. “I give a warning to any jihadist or terrorist or drug cartel or secret agency that thinks it is okay to experiment medically on people. If you try to do any of what I just said to any American, you will answer to me. Sooner or later.” I turned back to Kay.
She looked surprised. “That’s a pretty big threat you just made. You are not an army. Nor do you possess nuclear weapons. I think. So why do you think you can make a difference in today’s crazy world?”
I smiled. “I have access to normal weapons. But I prefer not to use them. I’ve left some terrorists alive so the cops and the FBI can track down the folks who helped them. As for why I think I can make a difference, you tell me. Your BBC audience is at least 78 million people. Don’t you think some of those folks can make a difference in their town?”
“So you will set an example that you hope other people will follow?” Kay said.
“Exactly so.”
She stared intently at me. “Early in your rescues you gave your name as ‘an American’. Why?”
Was this getting too political? No. And there was one more thing I needed to achieve with this interview. “I said I was an American because I am. Was born in one of our states. Grew up and went to good public schools in one of our states. Now I hold down a job in one of our towns. I think the best of America is when we set a good example for people around the world. Hopefully we can reduce our bad behavior in the world. But that's up to the politicians. Which I’m not.”
She nodded. “Is there anything else you want our audience to know?”
“Yeah, there is.” I looked over to the camera that was transmitting the interview. “Hey, everyone out there. I’m Green Mask. I’m an American. And I’m not rich. While I could port into a bank and grab money, I won’t do that. It would be wrong. But I’ve got costs.” I touched my suit. “As you can see, this suit kinda got zapped by the lightning I used yesterday to free hundreds of people being held hostage by bad guys and a bad gal. And I may have to quit my job if I want to help people full-time, the way my Mom wanted me to help.” I looked back to Kay. “So pretty soon I’m going to set up a crowdfunding appeal on the internet called GreenMask. I’ll probably use GoFundMe. You’ll know it’s my site and not some imposter because I will put some rescue videos on it that are shot from my perspective.” I stopped.
Kay looked surprised. “Well, that is most interesting, Mr. Green Mask. I hope you will come back in a week or so and share more about your abilities, your rescues and why being a vigilante is your choice in life.”
I stood up. “I’m not a vigilante. No way. I’m a helper. A volunteer like the folks who help at homeless shelters. Keep that in mind. Goodbye.”
In my mind, I thought of my apartment. I still had a half hour before I needed to report for work at REI. Time enough to port back, change clothes, bicycle over and check in. Hopefully Bridget would be nice today.
I thought “I wish to be there.”
The carpet of my living room felt soft under my feet.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Janet sat back in the soft chair in her Comfort Inn motel room as the BBC Special finished with a wrap-up by Katty Kay of the four hostage rescues done by Green Mask. The video excerpts from New York City, St. Louis, Paris and Houston were dynamic and impressive. What mattered most to her, though, was her memory of what she had seen early in the interview and later on. Green Mask had raised his hands twice to emphasize a point. The hands were covered in green surgical stretch gloves, like always. But in the close-up provided by the BBC cameraperson she noticed something she had not seen in the YouTube or security camera images. The man’s left hand had bulges on two fingers, just inside from the thumb. The bulges were not a wedding ring or a simple band. The bulges looked like rings with large stones. That image of the bulges on the left hand of Green Mask reminded her that when she had interviewed Jeffrey Webster, he was wearing two large turquoise rings on his left hand. He had on no other jewelry, aside from a digital watch on his right wrist. Damn. She grabbed her iPhone, tapped on the phone icon, then tapped on the number for her girlfriend.
“Brr-ing,” the phone sounded. Before a second ring happened it was answered.
“Hello? Is that you Janet! It’s your number.”
She looked at the phone’s screen. It held an unmoving image of Beverly’s face and shoulders dressed in a gray jacket. It was her standard agency ID photo. Her phone was sending her friend a similar picture of herself.
“Beverly, it’s me. Where are you right now?”
“At my desk on the
fourth floor,” her friend said, sounding puzzled. “Me and everyone else in a work cubicle just finished watching that wild BBC interview of Green Mask. Why?”
“Because I want you to know that I’m going back to interview one of the Los Alamos lab adult children suspects. He looks to be a good candidate for Green Mask. He has blue eyes, red hair dyed black, is single, is the right height and weight, works at REI and his voice is very similar to the voice we just heard in the interview, based on my first interview of him. Plus he is one of the folks identified in the retail store video surveys.”
Beverly’s dark brown eyes shot wide open. “Wow! That’s great! The deputy director will be thrilled if you really do have a lead on Green Mask. What’s the name of this suspect?”
Should she tell her friend? She still had other blue-eyed, black-haired young men who had shown up in the REI and Men’s Wearhouse videos. They lived in Taos, Las Vegas, Espanola, Raton and Farmington. Each of those young men had shown up on retail videos as having visited those two stores in the last year.
“I’ll give you the name after I see him again,” she said, feeling nervous. She didn’t want her friend running to the deputy director with the ‘great news’ that Green Mask had been found, only to discover that Webster had been watching a movie at a local Santa Fe movie theater. “He lives in Santa Fe. I’ll be driving over there soon. But there are five other good suspects that are part of the group you told me to interview here in northern New Mexico. Still, this guy is the most promising candidate.”
Beverly looked frustrated. “Damn! Sure would be great to let the deputy director know we’ve found Green Mask. Tracking down the identity of this guy is a big deal to the boss.” She looked aside. “My boss Jackson is breathing down my neck to find more email and internet links to other sleeper jihadists before another attack happens. That’s our first priority.”
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