Dreams Unleashed (21 page)

I'd rarely ever seen her tired. "Lulu, I think you've got jet lag."

Elinor and I had picked out Lulu from a litter with four females. From the beginning, I could see that she was trainable with a joyful disposition. When she was a puppy, I trained her to ring a bell that I had hung from the front door whenever she wanted to go outside to potty. I found that her bell training was very helpful when we traveled.

I hung her bell on the hotel doorknob.

Turning on the water, I began to run my bath as I peeled off my clothes.

Being back in D.C. turned my mind back to my years with the CIA, as I soaked in the bath.

Chapter 18

LANGLEY, VIRGINIA

The Year 1990

"It's been a year now, John," I pleaded with O'Brien.

"You think I don't know that?" he huffed. "How can a woman so young be so infuriating?" he fumed, glaring at me.

I remained silent.

"Ann, you think you're ready, and I think you need more training. We differ in opinion, and since I'm the elder---"

"Whoa, you better be careful there, John; her sensory IQ is much higher than yours," Bob cautioned, approaching us.

John shot Bob a nasty look for his interruption.

"She wants to go live. Not one viewer has gone live after only one year of training," John said, exasperated. "Grace has been training for longer, and she's not live," he passionately pleaded.

"Let's move into the observation room and talk about it," Bob commanded, nodding for me to join them.

John spun around and purposefully strode over to the glass room in front of us. When we were all inside, Bob closed the door behind him and turned to us.

"What were you thinking, having this argument in the middle of the viewing room?" he asked, looking from John to me, then back again, red in his cheeks.

"Lig dom! Fág dom i m'éinear!" John said, scornfully requesting that Bob leave him alone.

"Stop it, John. You're acting like an Irish baby!" Bob scolded.

"She's not ready, Bob." John stated with reluctant control.

"I am too," I said, defending myself.

"You," Bob said, pointing a finger at me, "be quiet for a minute, will you?"

I feigned zipping my lips closed.

"That's one of you. Now you." He pointed at John next. "Her sensory IQ is more than two hundred percent better than any single person we've ever had on our team, John, and you've known that since we brought her here a year ago. You also know that her viewing success runs ninety-eight percent, John. Ninety-eight percent. The next most accurate viewer we've got, Grace, only achieves sixty-eight percent success. We haven't seen anyone like her since Joseph matched five out of six targets consistently back in the 1970s. And don't forget, John---Ann's the only viewer that has that one
special
thing in common with Joseph---she clinically died when she was twelve and had a near death experience.

Silence hung in the air as we stared at one another.

"I think that we should use Ann while we have her. Don't forget that she's Air Force---we've only got two years or so left with her," Bob softly reasoned.

"We could compel her to stay for another two years past that, using the national security clause from the fine print when she enlisted," John offered, matter of fact.

Enlisted members of all the armed services agreed to be involuntarily extended for another two years past their four-year enlistment, should it be required for national security reasons. It was in the fine print of every enlistment document.

"What?" I questioned, irritated that John would even consider getting my enlistment extended another two years against my will.

"Ann, sit there and be quiet," Bob commanded me.

I tried to sit quietly.

"And you, don't bring up things that are nearly impossible to get approved. Do you know how high I'd have to go to get approval for an extension like that? The kind of visibility it would give our project is not something that I would ever want to happen," Bob grumbled.

"You could voluntarily reenlist, Ann," John pleaded very nicely.

I exploded. "Reenlist? Why don't you just make me live now, so we won't have to sit here and talk about me reenlisting when my four years are up?" I spat.

Bob looked to me, then John, annoyance on his face.

"John, you cannot compare her to Grace, or anyone else here. I know it, so do you, and Ann certainly knows it. We've got a finite amount of time with her, and we cannot waste it training and training until we get it all perfect. As you know, there is no such thing as
perfect
in remote viewing."

Silence. Bob waited.

"Are you going to say something, or just grow moss?" he asked John.

John faced me and calmly asked, "So you think you're ready?"

"Yes, I do."

Turning to Bob, John reluctantly asked, "How do you want this to go?"

"First of all, can we all
sit down
? You two are giving me more gray hair," Bob said, sarcasm dripping from words that hung in the air.

We all sat facing one another, as the heavy air began to vent out of the room.

"Ann, you said you're ready. Are you, truly?" Bob asked me directly.

"I am. I've felt it for months."

"I don't need to ask you why you feel that way, because I've been observing you."

I knew he'd been watching me on those monitors in his office. The viewing room was clearly wired for video, and those all fed directly into Bob's office and were recorded 24/7. Bob always explained it away, saying, "Our project is experimental, so we have to document activities."

"So she's ready. Let's go from there. You know the protocol, John; you've been here long enough."

"You want me to put her in the queue for assignments now?" John asked, a bit agitated.

"Yes. Let's throw her into the fire and see if she can breathe. Don't bother with the easy stuff. I want to see if her confidence is just an excess amount of pride or whether she's got the chops for this."

I felt like they were talking behind my back.

"We've got the target in Asia ready to go. Do you want to put her on that?" John asked.

"What level is it?" replied Bob.

"Level four," he somberly clarified.

"Sorry to interrupt, but how many levels are there, and what do the levels mean?" I asked.

"See. She doesn't even know what the levels are," John protested.

"Stop it. You're the one who trained her, John," Bob said in disgust. "Ann, there are five levels, with level five signifying that an enemy threat is imminent. The target John wants to put you on is level four, meaning that the threat is expected but not imminent. Are you up for that?"

"It's as good a time as any, so yes," I steadily confirmed.

"Start her on the Asian target tomorrow; we need her calm," Bob directed John, and he stood to leave.

John nodded silently in agreement. I felt excited as John turned and looked at me.

"What?" I asked him accusatory.

"Relax tonight, Ann. See you tomorrow afternoon," he said flatly, and got up and left the viewing room, leaving me alone.

I rose, striding out towards the door of the viewing room.

I'm going live
, I thought excitedly as I left the building.

* * *

The next afternoon, I was through the cipher lock and E door like lightening. I couldn't wait to get started on my first live assignment.

In the viewing room, John handed me a piece of paper, with map coordinates, minutes, and seconds typed on it. He knew nothing more about the target than I did---that way the session was clean. There was no other information on the paper. On my lap sat a clipboard with a plain piece of paper, and I had a pencil in my hand. I studied the information on the paper that John had given me until I felt that I remembered the information, and then I closed my eyes.

I started the Transcendental Meditation technique that the team had taught me over the past year. It allowed my mind to settle inward, past my own thoughts, to enter into pure awareness. My brain was alert but functioning with more subtle comprehension. I started my deep breathing exercises.

After twenty minutes in meditation, John delicately tapped my hand, which was our practiced indication that he would start asking me questions.

"What do you see?" he softly asked.

I opened my eyes and, staring at the clipboard, wrote the date and current time at the top, along with the word BEGIN, and then began to sketch the images that were gently being revealed in the back of my mind.

As my drawing started to slow, John directed, "Describe your sensory impressions."

I continued sketching and began adding words to describe sounds, smells, and emotions.

Seeing that I was drawing a building of some kind, he gently prodded, "Draw the inside of the structure."

When I was finished, I wrote END, along with the current time.

John narrated, "It's a building with grounds laid out in detail."

"I think the building is underground. Maybe a basement?" I added.

"Eight individuals..."

"It could be that there are more in the background. That's how many there were in the main room with the big table," I interrupted.

John added notes to his own notebook from the information I just revealed.

"What's the fear?" he asked me, glancing at my words.

"The leader was the only one who felt no fear. But everyone else I could sense had fear. They've got firepower, John. I couldn't see what, but the fear the men carried was linked to whatever weapon they're intending to use."

"What are these words?" he asked, pointing to my paper.

"Code words."

"For what?"

"I don't know."

He made some additional notes in his book.

"You did well, Ann. It's enough to target them via satellite. We can also have the phones tapped for these code words," he said proudly. "I was wrong, Ann. You are ready. Why don't you go home, and we'll see what we can confirm by the time you come back in on Monday?" he offered.

"All right. Night, John."

"Goodnight, lass," he said affectionately with a smile.

As I left through the observation room, I noticed Grace sitting alone.

"They've got you live, I see," Grace said to me, seeming slightly jealous.

"Yeah, it felt like it was time," I gently replied.

"It's early, but anyone can see that you're special, Ann."

"Are you okay?" I asked, concerned.

"I'm fine. I've got a terrible headache, that's all."

"You had one the last time I saw you. Are you taking something for it?"

"Yep, just popped the pills. I just need to take a break for them to work before I head back in."

"Oh, okay."

"So was it what you expected?" she asked.

"Yeah, pretty much. It's not that different from training, really."

"Unless you get it all wrong," she replied.

I didn't know what to say.

"Don't mind me, Ann. It's this headache."

"Well, feel better, Grace," I softly offered, then turned to leave.

"Bye, Ann."

The next day, Bob told me what happened with the target that I viewed. Six individuals were apprehended, along with a cache of weapons in the basement of the old building. It was a successful remote viewing for the CIA, and I was able to help prevent a terrorist action. That felt good.

Chapter 19

WASHINGTON D.C.

The Year 2015

After my prep meeting with conference organizers was over, I planned to meet some of my old friends for dinner at the Red Sea restaurant in Adams Morgan. It was our old hangout, and it brought back fine memories of our group.

Running with Lulu to try to exhaust her never worked, but I tried. I left her in the hotel room while I went to dinner, asking the Level Nine concierge to check in on her once every hour till I returned.

Deciding to walk, since it would only take fifteen minutes, I left about a half-hour early, just in case I was enticed to stop somewhere along the way. As I neared the restaurant, I could see it tucked in its familiar spot, framed in red. Since I had window-browsed along the way, I arrived at the same time Jackie did. We had grown up together, and she had been my best friend for much of my life.

"Jackie, it's so good to see you," I said as I bent to hug her.