Chapter 7
The same crew, minus Felice and someone I’d seen before but couldn’t remember where until he brought out a cat crate giving it to Dad. Uncle Town was seated on my right side next to my father and his eyes were bright and with it.
“Danny,” he grinned. No one looked alarmed as if I’d gone away for hours.
“I brought Uncle Townsley,” Dad was saying. “Now what?”
I yawned. Tried to sit up. Felt better, even if my throat was killing me. Put my hands on my head, and felt bandages. “Hey,” I complained suddenly scared. “You didn’t shave my head, please tell me you didn’t.”
“Sorry,” the doc said. “We did so we could do a craniotomy. It’ll grow back fast.”
“Ugh. I’m bald. Felice will rib me endlessly.” I sighed. “Will you dudes lighten up? Y’all look like you’re going to a funeral.”
Dad choked and Uncle Town gripped his shoulder. “Mike, he’ll be okay,” he promised. “Just give him some time.”
The Chinese Doctor shone a penlight in my eyes and seemed pleased. He checked my reflexes, had me touch my nose with my index finger, push against his hands and asked me a bunch of silly questions which I answered without hesitation or error.
“No cognitive deterioration,” Soong said. “We’ll take the drain out a few days. For now, rest. Are you hungry, Danny? You can eat in a few hours if you feel up to it.”
“I’m thirsty, too.” Dad gave me water through a straw, and I sucked the Styrofoam cup dry. “Can I get up?” All of them looked at the doctors.
“You think you can, Dantan?” I tried, but whatever drugs were in me still had hold of my limbs. I felt like spaghetti left too long in boiling water. “Try again later this evening. We have you on some stiff tranquilizers. You weren’t the most cooperative kid, you know,” Doctor K. grinned. “You’ve a pretty good right hook.”
“Oh no,” I groaned. “I hit someone?”
“Don’t worry, he won’t press charges. He’s a Democrat,” he said and I laughed. Everybody left, except for Dad and Uncle Town.
“Dad, Felice’s Dad?”
“He’s fine. We apprehended the guy before he got to the museum. The President did the opening ceremonies for me so I could come back here.”
“How long have you been here?” I asked.
“Four days, Danny. You’ve baffled them.” He turned to Mom’s uncle. “Townsley, what’s going on with my son? Do you understand, Townsley?”
“More than you know, Michael,” Uncle Town returned. “Danny has a gift. Like I did, like Evangeline did. An extra something in our heads that lets us know things, hear and see things. In Danny, it lets him ride inside the senses of animals, see what they see, hear what they hear, but interpreted as Danny’s mind does.”
“Can he read my mind?” Dad asked in a whisper.
“No,” we both said. “It doesn’t work that way for me, Dad. The only head I’d ever been in was Uncle Town, and he brought me inside there.”
Dad stared at my uncle. “You read minds?”
Uncle Townsley nodded. “What do you think drove me nuts?”
“You don’t sound crazy now,” Dad pointed out and laughed. “As if mind reading isn’t crazy.”
“Danny fixed me, somehow. For the first time in years, I can think.”
“Can you read my mind now?”
Uncle Townsley, hesitated, and shook his head. “Danny fixed me, but in doing so, he took away that part of my brain that had the ability.”
“Are you saying Danny will go the way you did, Townsley?”
He nodded slowly. “Unless Danny learns to filter and control it, he’ll wind up like me or worse. His ability has come on much earlier than mine.”
“And Evangeline?”
“Having Danny burned hers out early.”
“Evangeline was psychic?” Dad was skeptical.
“Not psychic, she could make you feel better by touching you. An empath. She felt your emotions and could enhance or change them.”
Dad said slowly, “she always knew how I felt, and when I was down, she always made me feel better.”
“I wish I’d been okay before she was hit, Michael,” Uncle Town said regretfully. “I tried to warn her, but no one believed me and I couldn’t stay together long enough to make anyone listen.”
“I know you tried, Townsley,” he was patient. “What are we going to do about Danny? Can you teach him how to control this thing?”
“I can try, Michael. I didn’t have much luck myself.”
*****
Mitchell Gaines requested a meeting with the Director and after waiting the requisite ten minutes, he was ushered into Oliver Sustain’s office to find the Director of Homeland Security busy reading memos and agent reports.
“Have a seat, Mitch,” he said, pushing over a cup of coffee black with sugar.
“I found something,” the agent reported, and Sustain looked up in surprise.
“Really? Already?”
“It’s not like this person was trying to hide anything. And I’m not sure exactly who, either. I’ve just found a common thread in over half the instances.”
Sustain gave his agent his undivided attention.
“Dantan De Rosier.”
Sustain laughed. “Senator De Rosier’s kid?”
Mitchell ticked off on his fingers, “one – the stock tip that led to a windfall was given to De Rosier’s broker on the kid’s say so. Two, the tip about the nut job who tried to assassinate the President came from the Senator, three,” he went on, listing a dozen cases where either the boy or the Senator was somewhere in the picture.
“What are you saying? This fourteen-year-old kid is a spy? Or Mike is?”
“De Rosier made half a million on a 1K transaction.”
“Senator De Rosier is worth millions,” Sustain scoffed.
“And his boy’s just been diagnosed with a brain tumor or something. Maybe he needs millions for surgery,” Mitchell argued.
“We have the best insurance money can buy,” Sustain shrugged. “And there’s no alternative medicine out there for cases of brain cancer. You want to dig into it a bit more?”
“Yes, Sir. I want to use the NSA to poke into the Senator’s background. The Senator brought his wife’s Great Uncle to see the kid.”
“Townsley Hutton? He’s in the advanced stages of Alzheimer’s.”
“I met him when I delivered the cat to the Senator. He seemed pretty with it to me.”
“Whatever you need, Mitch. But why would either the boy or the Senator relay the President’s words about the UN Secretary?”
Mitchell replied, “He told someone at school and it got back to a reporter by a schoolmate. The details are so accurate, she printed it. The kid swore it was Dantan who told him.”
“You talk to him, Dantan?”
“He’s pretty out of it, Director. The doctors did a biopsy on his brain, he’s been having bouts of withdrawal like seizures, but not the same electrical storm as a seizure. Couple of times, he stopped breathing. They’re pretty scared.”
“He might die?”
“The doctors are almost certain he will. They haven’t told the boy or the Senator yet because they aren’t sure what’s wrong with him, and because of Evangeline De Rosier’s death. Too close and too soon.”
“Is Senator De Rosier, asking for leave of absence from his seat?”
“I haven’t heard anything,” he admitted.
“Anyone else interested in Senator De Rosier’s tip?”
Mitchell hesitated. “State police, FBI, NSA, and Secret Service were all over the crime scene. That agent – Jake James, he’s pretty sharp. He is asking questions about the Senator’s tip.”
“I’m curious about how Mike knew the man’s license plate numbers and address. Why don’t we set a little trap for the Senator and one for Dantan? Got any ideas?”
Mitchell grinned. “A few.”
“Let me know what happens.”
“At least surveillance on the kid will be easy. He’s stuck in a private room in a PEDS unit at Walter Reed.”
“Not Crowley?”
“He was transferred for the brain biopsy. Walter Reed has Soong. Doctor Kujowski called in some favors and had them bump the kid in.”
He stood up, shook his boss’s hand. “I sent a Get Well package to the kid from you and the Department, boss.”
“Tasteful, I hope.”
“Kid likes puzzles, books and chocolate. I charged it to you.”
“Thanks. I’ll stop and give my best wishes to Mike,” Sustain returned.
“PEDS floor, room 2205. President’s been there every day with his daughter. She’s the kid’s girlfriend.”
“He’s in and out of the White House?” Sustain looked sharply at his agent.
“A few times. Hasn’t been back since his Dad was there for the Inauguration.”
“So he couldn’t have overheard Jason speaking.”
“Nope. I’m heading to my office to call the NSA for some deep research.”
“Call me when you hear anything.”
Mitchell nodded and shut the door quietly behind himself before heading for the elevators on the fourth floor where the day agents had their carrels. Deep cover employees came into the basements where they weren’t seen or recognized.