by J C Ryan
“Mrs. Devereux, the media for the last seven or so weeks has raged with serious allegations about A-Echelon and its activities. What is your response to that.”
Mackenzie responded, “It’s true, Miss Davis.”
Davis again ignored the incorrect address. She was too keen to jump on that admission of guilt.
“Are you saying the allegations are true, Mrs. Devereux?”
Mackenzie answered, “No, Miss Davis, I’m saying it’s true that the media, for the last seven or so weeks, has been raging with serious allegations about A-Echelon and its activities.”
Davis almost exploded. Her face turned red, the committee members started chuckling and shook their heads, and the public gallery erupted in raucous laughter.
Mackenzie sat there expressionless. Carter and the rest had a very hard time not smiling. When she had collected herself, Davis banged on the desk with her gavel and glared at the public gallery until they quieted.
“Mrs. Devereux, I noticed you don’t know the correct form of address for the members of this committee— “
She got no further before the senator next to her touched her arm and whispered something in her ear.
Mackenzie rejoined, “My apologies. I know how to address the members, but I thought we were going to keep this informal and do away with formal titles.”
Mackenzie smiled. Another round of laughter followed among those who knew her title, but a glare from Davis was sufficient to quiet them this time.
No one wanted to be removed. This promised to be the best show in town.
Davis shrugged and continued without apologizing. However, from then on, she addressed Mackenzie as Doctor Devereux, and Mackenzie responded in kind by addressing her as Senator or Madam.
After a few rounds of pointed questions with no better results, Davis was struggling to control her emotions and ready to take a break. The damn witness brilliantly sidestepped every question without being insolent. What was worse, she was swaying the audience in her favor. By now, she regretted making the mistake of calling Mackenzie first, too enraged to make rational decisions, instead of stopping the questioning and call another one of the witnesses, she pushed ahead.
Hoping another senator might do better, Davis ceded the floor to another committee member. But it soon became apparent he would have no better luck.
Half an hour later, Mackenzie was getting annoyed at the same question being asked in different ways. Carter shifted to a more alert position as the committee member asked it for the sixth time, and Mackenzie lifted her shoulder to signal she understood not to lose her cool.
Instead, she answered in a sweet tone, “Senator, I have answered that question exactly five times already. I really can’t help it that you don’t like the answer.”
Someone in the audience stage-whispered, “Bazinga!” and Davis lost it.
“Do you think some of us are idiots?” she shouted at Mackenzie.
Mackenzie gave a ghost of a smile. It was really not fair to take advantage of a woman not in her right mind, but the opening was too good. “No, some of you are not idiots.” The very faint emphasis on “some” was the last straw.
The gallery detonated. Even the media, well-trained not to become part of the story, couldn’t contain themselves.
Davis banged her gavel so hard the head broke off and flew back to hit her. She was all but foaming at the mouth and used the distraction to point to her nearest neighbor, the vice-chairman of the committee. “Adjourn for lunch,” she gasped before scrambling for the door.
“Medic,” she wheezed as she collapsed. A heart attack. That will teach that redheaded bitch to have some respect.
A few minutes later, an EMT completed her humiliation by telling her, loudly, “You had a panic attack.”
One journalist took out his cell phone, forbidden in the chamber but smuggled in with the camera equipment, and tweeted: “Davis vs. Devereux: Round 1: Davis saved by the bell.”
Chapter 77 - Lunch time
If Davis had thought she’d get a break to collect herself after her “medical emergency”, she was sadly mistaken. During lunch time, her office became the frontline in a war zone when her party leaders, apprised of the debacle by her committee members of the same party, stormed into her office, uninvited and accompanied by the committee members. Her head began to pound, and she could barely keep up with who was speaking as they gave her an ass-chewing the likes of which she’d last had as a rebellious teenager from her mother.
“After lunch, you go back in there and treat Doctor Devereux with respect.”
“Stop being vindictive—you’re no match for her, and you should’ve realized that within the first few minutes.”
“You change your attitude, or she is going to ruin you and your career – you’ll never recover from it.”
And the final blow, from the party chairman, “If you don’t back off on her, we’ll destroy you, and you might as well hand in your resignation. You’re ruining every chance—and it’s already slim—for our party to elect the next president.”
With angry men and women shouting at her from every side, Davis was reduced to tears. Taken aback, they softened their tone and tried to persuade rather than threaten, but it was too late. They’d already backed her into a corner, and she didn’t take that lightly. Those were tears of anger, not of unhappiness or fright.
“I’m the chairwoman of this committee, and I’ll conduct the hearing as I please. Don’t for one moment think you’ll get away with bullying me,” she screamed.
The party chairman patted the air as he tried to mollify her. “Michelle, you’re right, and I’m sorry. We shouldn’t have ganged up on you. But surely you can see your approach has only made Doctor Devereux a heroine among the gallery that you wanted there. All we’re saying is please think about changing your approach.”
Davis crossed her arms and lifted her chin. “I’ll think about it.”
That was the best they were going to get. Sighing heavily, they filed out of her office. They could only hope she’d moderate her obvious bias when she resumed questioning the witness.
***
The Devereux camp, in contrast, were having a celebration over their lunch. Everyone was elated with Mackenzie’s performance. Carter had expected nothing less, so he was sitting back and smiling as Sebastian, Bill, James, and Irene congratulated her. Occasionally one of them would quote one of her zingers, and the whole group would break out into the laughter they’d had to suppress during the session.
She’d done what no one besides Carter knew she could—diverted the attention from A-Echelon and focused it squarely on the rude, brash, and vindictive Senator Michelle Davis from California. Those who’d attended had begun to hate Davis, and once the footage from the major networks was aired, everyone else would, too.
In fact, those reporters were outside the building, screaming to the lenses of the video cameras about the debacle so far. Most of them blaming the vicious Senator Davis for the chaotic state of affairs and the unnecessary battering of this beautiful, soft-spoken, obviously innocent woman.
Sebastian and the rest cautioned Mackenzie that Davis would be right now receiving attitude adjustment training from her party members.
“When the hearing gets back underway after lunch, things will become really serious, Mackenzie,” Sebastian concluded.
“I’m sure they will,” Mackenzie answered. Smiling at her husband, she said, “I’m ready for whatever happens. Trust me.”
Carter smiled back. After the morning’s performance, he wasn’t the only one who did.
Chapter 78 - What
do you do for A-Echelon?
Davis gaveled the hearing to order. She looked refreshed compared to her panic as she’d left the chamber an hour and a half earlier. She’d managed to get over her tears with the help of a Valium and chain-smoking three cigarettes. She even had on fresh makeup—war paint, as her ex-husband always called it.
Her attitude had undergone a remarkabl
e change as far as anyone could tell. She even smiled as she reminded Mackenzie she was still under oath.
Mackenzie thought the smile looked remarkably like those she’d seen on the faces of the deadly African Black Mamba snakes. As she confirmed she understood she was still under oath, Makenzie knew the cat and mouse game was over as far as Davis was concerned. The fake smile hiding its sinister intent meant that though the good senator may have put on kid gloves, her bite was still extremely toxic.
Mackenzie took a deep breath and prepared to do mental battle as Davis nodded at another committee member to ask a question. She turned her attention to the senator questioning her—a member of the opposing party.
“Doctor Devereux, were you involved in, or aware of, investigations into alien visitation?”
Mackenzie suppressed a twitch of her lips, only a little surprised at the ridiculous implication. “No, Senator. I am unaware of any such investigations.”
“Is that because the military and intelligence community have concluded their investigations? Perhaps before you were a part of A-Echelon?”
“Not to my knowledge, Senator,” Mackenzie answered.
“What about Hitler’s children?”
“I am unaware that Hitler had any,” she answered. “In any case, there is no such investigation that I’m aware of.”
“Elvis?”
“If you are referring to Elvis Presley, I believe he died in 1977.”
Another member of the opposite party tried to come to the rescue of his colleague and ask a more intelligent question. “What about Nazi secret bases in Antarctica or the Arctic? What about their secret weapons programs, such as the Glocke?”
“Science fiction, Senator, as far as I know.”
“You seem to be qualifying your answers, Doctor Devereux. Let me ask you directly. Are you, or have you ever been, involved in investigating any of the subjects my colleague or I have mentioned?”
“No. Never.” Mackenzie’s firm answer was given in a sweet tone of voice with a smile.
Davis indicated a member of her own party next.
“Doctor Devereux, if you are not involved in any of these investigations, what do you do for A-Echelon?”
That was the first question, since the whole circus started that morning, which was worthy of a sincere answer.
“My research has to do with ancient medicine. I track down ancient texts, and with the help of translators, investigate what we might learn from them. If we can apply it to modern medicine, I also perform experiments to test its worth.”
“So, what have you learned?” The senator smiled, charmed with Mackenzie’s dignified and decidedly non-whacky answer.
Mackenzie smiled back. “I have been and still am very surprised at what the ancients knew and stunned by how much knowledge has been lost or suppressed over the ages. Much of it is being rediscovered, not discovered as we sometimes claim.” She held up a folder. “I have here just a few examples, of which I’ve made copies for the committee, if you are interested.”
Davis nodded to one of the clerks to collect the folder and hand out the copies.
“We’ll look at that with great interest, Doctor Devereux,” Davis said. “But give us just a few examples off the top of your head.”
Another of those Mamba-smiles warned Mackenzie to pick a few of the most believable examples.
“Well, let me think. The Chinese in 300 B.C. already had government medical aid. Doctors received their compensation from the government and medical aid was free to all.”
“Like Medicaid?” Davis sneered.
“As I understand it, no. Theirs were free to all. No one received better medical aid than anyone else. Another example is a pharmacological encyclopedia from India that’s more than four thousand years old. We’re still going through it. There are over five hundred herbal medications listed, along with instructions for their use. Modern scientists have experimented with some in double-blind tests, and many are better than modern pharmaceuticals.”
“None of this sounds new, Doctor Devereux. People have been claiming herbal remedies are better than drugs for decades.”
“That’s true, Senator. But now we have the means to prove it. There’s more. Surgical instruments and techniques that rival today’s, for example. Obsidian blades have been found to be a thousand times sharper than modern day platinum surgical blades. So sharp they don’t bruise cells. Dental cement that’s still holding up after fifteen hundred years. This research is not frivolous, as the news media has been reporting.” Mackenzie stopped. She’d said enough, and her primary research into respirocytes was top-secret. She couldn’t speak about it in an open hearing. Fortunately, no one asked.
When she fell silent, Mackenzie became aware of a stir in the gallery. A quick sidelong glance to each side showed her people were whispering to each other excitedly.
Her heart ached. These weeks in hiding could have been put to better use extending her knowledge of the technology that could prove to be the answer to many health issues.
Davis, too, noticed the interest in the gallery as well as among her committee members.
This couldn’t be allowed to go on. Things weren’t going her way, because of Mackenzie Devereux’s almost supernatural ability to sway her audience. Her credibility, whether it came from her calm demeanor, her obvious intelligence, or the indisputable fact that she was telling the truth was hurting Davis’s own, simply because she’d called it into question.
The senator who’d opened that door was about to ask another question. His expression said he was now highly interested in what Devereux had to say. Davis cut him off and took over the questioning again herself.
Davis went on the attack again. “It’s been reported you played fast and loose with the rules of an Armenian museum in which you were a guest. Did you or did you not illegally copy an ancient document known as the Sirralnnudam?”
Mackenzie swallowed. Here it comes. “Yes, I copied it, and I admit it was illegal at the time. However, in hindsight, it was the right thing to do. Even the Armenians agreed and condoned it. They thanked me, because shortly after I handled it last, it disappeared from the library. All they now have is the copy I made.”
“You are quite certain you do not yourself have the original in your possession?”
“Quite.” Mackenzie bit off the rest of her retort. She’d already been investigated and cleared of that accusation. Davis knew it.
That was a low blow.
“And would you decide again that your opinion counts more than the rules, Doctor Devereux?”
“I can’t say if I would do it again. That would depend on the circumstances. I would always do what I feel is right, as an American citizen and a person who has only the good of the public in mind. But I admit that back then – given the circumstances then—I was wrong. There was no emergency that required I copy the document. I merely wanted to be able to study it at leisure. It was fortunate only because someone took the document and then lost it afterward.”
Davis took her admission of guilt as a victory. She tried to capitalize on it by asking Mackenzie about the rumors of Carter having stolen from an ancient library in Egypt. She didn’t mention the City of Lights, or the Giants.
“I was not there,” Mackenzie answered. “I have knowledge of it, but not firsthand knowledge. Perhaps you should ask my husband directly.”
Davis pounced on her answer. “Am I to understand from your reply you’re refusing to answer the question?”
“Not at all, Senator. I am willing to answer, but wouldn’t it be better if my husband gave you the correct facts? Wouldn’t it be better to hear it from him firsthand? Or do you prefer my secondhand version? It wouldn’t be as comprehensive as his.”
Davis walked right into the briar patch with her next question. “Why do you keep saying second-hand version? Where were you when it happened?”
Mackenzie paused a beat, instinctively waiting for the hush in the room that would make her next statement all the m
ore dramatic. Then she spoke quietly.
“My son, daughter, and I were being held captive in a research facility in Saudi Arabia. A place just outside of Mecca.”
A collective susurration as the gallery drew in a shocked gasp, and then the audience went deathly silent again. The media had reported Mackenzie was colluding with Saudi dissidents at the time. The one or two reporters in the room who remembered the original story felt a skipped heartbeat. Their source had said that, and they’d never verified.
Davis felt as if she’d stepped on a merry-go-round and had her feet swept from under her. Nevertheless, she forged ahead, determined to discredit Mackenzie at all costs.
“So, the reports in the media are wrong? All of them? Are you trying to make us believe that not one journalist investigated and is now able to prove your claim?” Davis made an incredulous face.
“Yes, the reports are wrong. I did not work for or with the Saudis at any time, ever in my life. I can’t think of any reason why I ever would. Not voluntarily.”
Leaning heavily on a sarcastic tone, Davis tried to shake the story. “How did you come to be… captured? Why and how did that happen? Why hasn’t it been reported along with the rest of the scandal? We’ve heard nothing about it in the press.”
Mackenzie again answered evenly. “I can’t say why the press hasn’t mentioned it now. But they certainly knew and talked about it at the time.”
Davis recalled nothing of the story. Befuddled, she asked Mackenzie to explain.
Sensing she’d gained a lot of sympathy and support, not only from the audience but from some of the committee as well, Mackenzie seized the opportunity to tell the whole story.
“We, my family and I, were in Jerusalem on holiday. We’d just gone into a restaurant, and Carter excused himself to go to the restroom. The next thing I knew, my son and I were grabbed by masked men and bundled into a van. The men held ether-soaked cloths over our faces, and the last thing I heard before I lost consciousness was a huge explosion and people crying and screaming.
