"Some of its easy-I mean setting a fire isn't hard. What gets more tricky is when they have to manipulate people."
"Huh?"
"This guy Rukhaber. No doubt he was CIA or Secret Service or something. He probably fucked up and they got to him like they got to me-except he took to the programming."
"Programming? What the fuck are you talking about?"
"You said you saw my file right? How about all the drugs they had me on? And what happened to me after they started giving them to me?"
"You got worse."
"Exactly-I fought them. Maybe Rukhaber had a different reaction, maybe he gave in. Who knows, maybe he was nuts. The important point is they set it up for him to flourish, then they went in and blew him up."
This made my hair hurt. I couldn't tell if Karl was nuts or a genius, or whether I was the one who was getting nuttier.
"So you're talking about mind control?" I said.
"Yeah, but not like Star Trek stuff. The military is good at it and Newstrom was their very best. When they combine it with the right pharmacology they can be very, very good at it."
"How would they set up a Columbine type thing?"
"Easy. Find the right group of disenfranchised kids, get them to take drugs-nothing hard to do there-give them the right suggestions and access to guns and sit back."
"Is that what happened at Columbine?"
"It could have. You got a better explanation?"
"Holy shit, Karl. Is this really possible?" I shook my head.
"Now you know why I don't tell everyone the details."
"Maybe Karl, I just don't know. If it is happening, how come no one is doing anything to stop it?"
"Anyone who believes it is considered crazy," Karl said.
"Yeah, I guess you're right," I said. It became quiet between the two of us for a couple of moments.
"Duffy, you mind if I ask you something?"
"No, go ahead," I said.
"You think I'm crazy and you're worried you might be getting crazy if you follow what I'm saying aren't you?"
"Maybe a little."
"You still want to get involved?"
"Yeah."
"Why in hell do you want to do this with me?" I thought about it for a minute. I wasn't sure of the answer, but I had an idea.
Elvis sang If I Can Dream, a song about visualizing a better world where all types of people walk hand in hand. He reached the crescendo.
"A few reasons," I said.
"You want to share them with me?" Karl sat still and looked right at me.
I thought about it for a second before I said anything. I wasn't sure if I could get the words around what I felt, but I gave it a shot.
"I think it's something like this, Karclass="underline" One, I don't like people fucking with other people who can't defend themselves. Two, I don't like the fact somebody fucked with you." I hesitated.
"Is there something else, Duff?" Karl said.
"I don't like the fact three guys suckered me in the back of the head."
24
I may have gotten hit in the head too many times, but I had never spent a lot of time following my head anyways. Still, deciding to listen and believe Karl Greene told the truth was something else. I wasn't so confident about my own sanity, and now I teamed up with a guy who liked to wear a football helmet as his main sartorial statement.
Nuts or not, if we were going to foil world-changing terrorist events, I was going to make damn sure I did my homework. Despite how silly even thinking it sounded, I believed it. If you believe something hard enough it becomes true-at least to you.
It was time to talk to Kelley. He'd chew me out and tell me I was nuts, but he'd listen and tell me what he thought. We met during his lunch break at AJ's, which would mean me taking a long lunch at the clinic, but I figured I could call it a consultation with a community member. The Michelin Woman had her door closed, so got out without reliving her version of the Spanish Inquisition.
Only Jerry Number Two sat in AJ's at this early hour. He sat at the bar with his laptop, sipping a Cosmo.
"Hey Jerr, you look lonesome," I said.
"Nah, spending some quality online time with my D amp;D friends," Jerry said without taking his eyes off the screen.
"D and D?"
"Dungeons and Dragons. You know, role playing." I didn't really ever get what that was all about, but when your main hobby is getting punched in the face repeatedly youdon't spend a lot of time making fun of other people's pastimes. AJ stacked boxes. He stopped to slide me a Schlitz, without saying anything by way of greeting.
Kelley came in on cue and in uniform. He got a diet coke and ordered a burger.
"I don't got a ton of time, Duff," he said "How's your noggin'?"
"It's mostly all right."
"So what are we here about?"
"You're going to think I'm nuts."
"Too late. Let's hear it." He sipped his diet coke and ran his hand through his flat top.
"All right, you know Karl, my client from the clinic?"
"Yeah-he was in the other night."
"I told you how he's been making predictions about tragic events and terrorism."
"Yeah."
"It turns out its not just crazy paranoia stuff. He got a little fucked up in Iraq because he accidentally shot and killed a couple of little kids."
"That'll do it. What does that have to do with him being able to predict his or anybody else's future?"
"Well, his best buddy, a guy he enlisted with, finished out his tour and joined a private security force over there." I looked at Kelley to see if he listened and if he had any reaction. He listened, without reaction, so I kept on.
"When Karl got fucked up he tried to convince Karl to come join the private security firm and he told him there would always be work. Somehow Karl asked a bunch of questions and his buddy said he was guaranteed a lot of work for years to come whether there were any wars or not."
"Duffy, is there a point to this?" Kelley took a bite out of his burger and frowned. AJ's burgers often did that to people.
"According to Karl, he saw documentation about a plan for events inside the United States would keep people supporting the wars and the defense funding."
"A plan?"
"Yeah, a plan in which they would engineer and set up tragic terrorist-linked events."
"Who would?"
"This private security firm. They're called Blackgard."
"And you know this because the guy in the Redskins helmet said so."
"He wasn't always nuts; he knows what he's talking about," I said, just raising my voice a tad.
"Duff, this is Bigfoot stuff, it's Area 51, the Chupacabra. It's bullshit. Man, you really took a shot in the head."
"C'mon Kell, I'm not nuts-"
"Look Duff, you asked me, I told you. I think Karl's nuts and I think you're right behind him." He got up, wiped his mouth with the paper napkin, and left half a burger in front of him.
"Sorry, but I got to get back to work." He put his hat on and headed out.
I felt ridiculous. AJ gave me another beer. I started paying attention to ESPN when Jerry said something without looking up from his laptop.
"Northwoods," he said.
"What's that Jerr?"
"Northwoods, the name of a project the CIA proposed around the time of the Cuban missile crisis."
"And?"
"They proposed staging a fake invasion of the continental U.S. to make it look like the Cubans did it." Jerry finally looked away from the computer at me.
"Why would they do that?"
"So the American people would endorse the military bombing the shit out of Cuba."
"Why didn't they do it?"
"I don't know." Jerry looked away from me. "The point is they considered it."
"Jerry do you think it could happen-I mean, fun conspiracy stuff aside-is it really possible?"