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Authors: J. B. Tilton

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BOOK: Special Talents
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The three at the table just stared at Barnes. He was dressed in the same clothes he had been wearing when he was sitting at the table. But the three didn't recognize him. At least they didn't recognize him as Barnes. Standing at the table, holding the tray of coffee and cups, was President Barak Obama; the President of the United States.

 

"That's incredible," remarked Jeremy just staring at Barnes.

 

"Well," said Barnes, putting the tray on the table and taking a seat in his chair, "you said you wanted proof. I figure if I'm going to prove it I should do it in a big way." He turned to Scarborough. "I believe, Agent Scarborough, that your oath requires you to obey the orders of all your superiors. Including those of the President of the United States."

 

"It's Assistant Director Scarborough. And you're right. I am required to obey their orders. But you are not the President of the United States."

 

"If you just met me on the street you wouldn't be able to tell the difference. Oh, there are some differences. I've only seen pictures of the President or seen him on television. So I don't know how tall he is, for instance. Not that it would make much of a difference. I can't alter my height. Or how much I weigh. All I can do is look like him. Or anyone else I choose."

 

"This is kind of spooky," said Janet. "To think he can imitate anyone he wants. It would be almost impossible to tell if it was him or the real person."

 

Barnes closed his eyes and concentrated for a moment. Suddenly his skin showed a kind of rippling effect. Almost instantly he changed from Obama back into his normal self.

 

"Well, you said if I could prove I'm telling the truth we'd have a deal. So? Is that enough proof for you?"

 

"Okay, you have a deal," said Scarborough. "As long as you hold up your end of it. No more impersonating people and ripping off their bank accounts."

 

"You have my word," said Barnes. "Besides, I have enough money to live on for a while. So tell me. What's this 'mission' I'm supposed to do for you? It sounds all mysterious and cloak and dagger."

 

"To be honest, I'm not sure yet," said Scarborough. "We're still putting the team together. But once we do, I'll let you know. You'll come in for a full briefing and I'll tell you everything you need to know."

 

"Okay. That seems fair. I'm sure you all ready have all my information."

 

"Williard," began Jeremy.

 

"Wil," he corrected. "Ever since I saw that movie with the rats I never cared for Williard. Just seems too creepy?"

 

"Movie about rats?" Janet questioned. "That just sounds sick."

 

"To each his own," said Wil, smiling at her.

 

"Fine, Wil," said Jeremy. "Until we contact you, you can't tell anyone about this. It has to remain our secret."

 

"Hey, who would I tell? If I tell anyone about it they'll want to know why you chose me. Then I'd have to tell them about my, what did you call it? Special talent? That's something I'd rather keep to myself."

 

"Good," said Scarborough. "I should be in touch in a few days. So just take it easy, stay out of banks, and wait for my call."

 

"Sure thing, chief," said Barnes, giving Scarborough a mock salute.

 

"You sure this is a good idea?" Scarborough asked as they left Barnes' house. "He doesn't strike me as all that reliable."

 

"Well, I said just enough to pique his interest," said Jeremy. "Right now he's wondering what this has to do with terrorist and you heard him. He wanted to join the military and fight them. I think you can count on him. Whether he decides to stay with us or not is another matter."

 

"Well, let's just keep an eye on him," said Janet. "Knowing he can become anyone he wants has some scary connotations to it."

 
CHAPTER FOURTEEN

 

Secretary Napolitano was headed out of the headquarters building when a man in a suit wearing an ID card identifying him as working for Homeland Security approached her. He was carrying several sheets of paper.

 

"Madam Secretary," said the man. "I have something you should see."

 

"Hank, I'm on my way to a meeting with the President. Can this wait?"

 

"No ma'am. I think you'll want to know this before you meet with the President."

 

He handed her the papers and she looked them over. Her brow furrowed as she read what was on them.

 

"Is this right? It says they were at a Russian Gulag? The Gulag's were shut down in the early sixties."

 

"Yes, ma'am. Some of their facilities were abandoned when the system was shut down. Apparently this was one of those facilities. It's been abandoned since 1962 and the Russian army found it quite by accident while on maneuvers. We've checked with the Russian Ambassador and he's confirmed the report. Unofficially, of course."

 

"Thanks, Hank. You're right. I'll want to show this to the President right away."

 

"We have something else, ma'am. We don't have confirmation yet but apparently someone matching the description of Richard Moser crossed the American-Canadian border sometime last night or early this morning. We aren't sure of his destination but he apparently crossed the border while it was dark."

 

"Damn," swore the Secretary. "Keep on it, Hank. I don't think this is a coincidence. Put whatever resources you need on it. And keep me informed of the progress."

 

"Yes, ma'am, I will."

 

Hank turned and headed back into the building as Napolitano headed out to the car waiting for her. The President was not going to be happy about either of these pieces of information.

 

"So, how's our patient doing?" Jeremy asked when they had returned to the house.

 

"He seems to be doing okay," said Kamalene. "He's been in his room all day. I took some food to him but he said he wasn't hungry. He came out once but that was just to go to the bathroom. Then he went back in the room and has been in there ever since."

 

"You think he's okay?" Janet asked.

 

"Probably," said Jeremy. "My guess is he's been working on the techniques I taught him. He seemed quite excited about how successful he had been with them. But I imagine it will take some time before he gets really got at them. Then we can see about teaching him some more advanced techniques."

 

"Shouldn't you go check on him?" Scarborough asked.

 

"No, I think the best thing to do right now is to let him alone. Remember, he didn't even know he had an ability until we told him. He may not even believe it now. He only knows that the techniques I taught him help to lessen the pain. I imagine he'll want to be practicing them as much as he can considering he's used to being in pain most of the time. It probably won't take him long to get the hang of them and hopefully that will make the pain even less permanently."

 

"More than you know, Dr. Sloan."

 

They all looked up to see Conrad standing in the door to his room. He didn't have the haggard look he had worn since they had first met him. He actually was smiling. Something Jeremy hadn't seen him do yet.

 

"You seem better," said Jeremy. "How are the exercises coming along?"

 

"I've been practicing them all day. I didn't even stop to eat."

 

"So I've been told. Are they doing you any good? Remember, the more you practice them the better you'll get. It won't be too long before the pain will be quite manageable."

 

"It's gone," said Conrad, smiling from ear to ear. "There hasn't been any headaches for more than an hour. And I don't even have to imagine that waterfall like you taught me. It's like I found an off switch to it."

 

"That's incredible," said Jeremy taking Conrad's wrist to check his pulse. "Your pulse is normal. You say there's no pain at all?"

 

"None. It the first time I can remember not having a crushing headache."

 

"I never imagined you'd progress so fast. I was going to teach you some advanced techniques when you had mastered those basic ones but it seems I don't have to. They seem to have done the trick."

 

"So you still think I have this telepathy?"

 

"Yes," said Jeremy. "And as I said, I think it's what was causing the headaches. You've learned how to block out all the 'noise' from people's brains around you. But let's be cautious about this. This may only be a temporary situation. We'll have to see what the next few days bring. If you can keep the headaches away then I think there's a good chance you won't suffer from them again."

 

"Then what do we do?" Conrad asked.

 

"We teach you how to use your ability. You still have it. You probably always have had it. But teaching you how to use it is going to be trickier than getting rid of the headaches. I have absolutely no idea where to begin to teach you how to use an ability that, quite frankly, I don't understand."

 

"Well, maybe it's like that first exercise you taught me. I just pick one of the thoughts in my head and concentrate on it."

 

"You're still hearing things?" Jeremy asked.

 

"Some. Mostly it's kind of like in the back of my mind. You know, like someone's name you know that you know but can't quite remember what it is."

 

"Yeah, I understand. But for now let's not be concerned with teaching you to use your ability. Like I said, we have to see if you can keep the headaches away. Tell me. How are you able to keep the headaches from coming back?"

 

"Well," said Conrad thoughtfully, "I think about those thoughts I have. I concentrate on one. Sometimes I concentrate on more. Just one after the other. As long as I'm concentrating on the thoughts the headaches don't come back."

 

"Okay. So I want you to try something else. Don't concentrate on anything. Just kind of let you mind wander. See how that works."

 

"I'll try."

 

Conrad closed his eyes and Jeremy could see his eyes moving under his eyelids. As if he were watching a moving in his mind. Everything seemed okay for a bit. Then suddenly Conrad put his hand to his head and swayed slightly.

 

"Oh, the headache came back," he said.

 

"Well at least now we know how to keep the headaches away," said Jeremy.

 

"Yeah, while he's awake," said Janet. "What about when he goes to sleep and he can't concentrate on something? It looks like the headaches will come back as soon as he falls asleep."

 

"Well at least I'll be able to get to sleep," said Conrad. "Before I could never sleep more than a couple of hours at a time. It took me forever to fall asleep and eventually the pain would wake me up. Then it would take me forever to get back to sleep. Maybe this time I can stay asleep for more than a short time."

 

"I can get some sleeping pills that should help," said Jeremy. "You can take a pain pill and a sleeping pill before you go to bed. That should help you sleep and the pain pill should keep the pain away at least for a few hours."

 

"Thanks, Dr. Sloan. I'll let you know if I need them."

 

"Well, I'd better get going," said Scarborough. "I have a report to write. Now rest for the wicked, as they say."

 

"I'll see you tomorrow, Richard," said Jeremy. "Maybe we can have a look at some more of those names you guys have given up. They can't all be dead ends."

 

"I'll let you know," said Scarborough. "Conrad, take care of yourself. I'll stop by tomorrow and see how you're doing."

 

"Thanks, Agent Scarborough. I've never had so many people looking out for me in my life."

 

Jeremy just smiled and decided to watch some television for a while. He wasn't a big television fan, preferring movies, and mostly old movies at that. But television was a nice diversion once in a while.

 

Jeremy opened his eyes and looked around. Some news program was on the television and he picked up the remote and shut it off. It was morning out and he saw Conrad in the kitchen apparently fixing breakfast.

 

"Morning, Dr. Sloan," said Conrad. "You seem to have fallen asleep in front of the T.V. My dad used to do that."

 

"Yeah," said Jeremy, rubbing his eyes. "There was a marathon of some great silent movies on one of the channels last night. I guess I fell asleep watching it. Where are Kamalene and Janet?"

 

"Kamalene is in the other bedroom still asleep. Janet said something about running some errands."

 

"Oh, I'm not surprised. She's been busy with me for the past few days. She's probably let some of them go longer than she should have."

 

"Agent Scarborough called a little bit ago. He said he was coming over here in a bit. Had something he wanted you to see. He was all kind of mysterious and everything. Is he always like that?"

 

"Only when it comes to national security," said Jeremy walking into the kitchen. "An omelet. I didn't know you could cook."

 

"My mom taught me. Before I started getting the headaches. Since they started I haven't had the opportunity to do any of it. Why don't you take that one? It'll only take me a few minutes to whip up another one for myself."

 

"Oh, I don't think I could do that. You made this for yourself."

 

"I insist. After what you taught me it's the least I could do."

 

"How did you sleep?"

BOOK: Special Talents
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