closing in
Mark Jones
Closing in
This book of short stories is a work of fiction. Names, characters,
places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination, or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locations,
or persons living or not, is coincidental.
CLOSING IN was first published in Great Britain in June 2011 by
Coast & Country Publications, Tyldesley House, Clarence Road, Llandudno, Conwy LL30 1TW.
Tel 01492-870883.
www.coastandcountrymagazine.co.uk
www.ebookexchange.co.uk
This paperback edition was first published in June 2011.
Text & artwork © 2011 Mark Jones.
www.author-markjones.com
The moral right of Mark Jones to be identified as author of this
work has been asserted by his in accordance with the Copyright,
Designs and Patents Act 1988.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or
utilized in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical,
including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage
or retrieval system, without prior permission in writing from
the author and/or the stated publishers.
A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
Paperback edition ISBN 978-1-907163-19-7
Typeset and designed by Katie Gatton BA.
Contents
1. Storm Cloud ............................................................1
2. Hell at Hollow Brook ...........................................53
3. A secret no more .....................................................83
4. CORA: My pact with the Devil .........................109
STORM CLOUD
Taking his private plane out for the first time alone after gaining his pilot’s licence, Frank Thompson, a down-to-earth man married to Jane for thirty-four years, was more than pleased with what he had achieved in life. A retired hotelier, he now wanted something to occupy his days and chose to take up flying as a hobby, unaware his new quest would take him into the realms of fantasy and wonder.
As he took off from the small reserved Caribbean island where he had recently settled with Jane, everything seemed normal; the plane was flying superbly and there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. Suddenly, within seconds, Frank could see nothing. He had flown into heavy rain and thick fog. As he looked at the control panel the plane was miles off course. It seemed as if it had been guided by an unforeseen force. The instrument panel was making no sense to Frank – gauges spinning wildly and the plane rocked from side to side. Frank had never seen weather hit so fast and with such force. The plane was also beginning to lose altitude. Frank knew he needed a place to land and fast. As he looked out for a landing zone the rain and fog had disappeared as quickly as it had struck the plane not ten seconds ago.
Frank again looked for somewhere to land and collect his thoughts. He was astonished at what he saw below him; strange buildings and large obelisks unlike anything he had seen before. For a moment he thought it must be a small island somewhere just off the Caribbean and not too far from home. What he didn’t realise was that he had flown not onto another island but through another dimension in time. As he landed the plane he paused for breath. Gazing to his left he saw a large golden temple which was heavily guarded and fortified by a wall which encircled the entire perimeter. The unusually attired guards, with spears, shields and large curved knives hanging from their belts, stood at various points in and around the temple, clearly disturbed by Frank’s abrupt landing. As he looked around, Frank couldn’t place where he was, but the island seemed to have an ancient feel about it. Looking to his left he saw some children who were wearing mirror or foil-type suits; others were in black one-piece outfits and speaking a language Frank did not recognise. He knew he was on no island he had ever been to or heard of before and he had been to most of them in his life.
Suddenly the children began running excitedly towards the plane. They then gestured to a man and woman nearby to come and see what they had found. The man was displeased and beckoned them to come away. Frank thought he should get out and explain how he had flown into a storm.
As he stepped down onto the soft sandy ground the atmosphere became incredibly tense. Some of the guards held out their knives and warned him to stay where he was. Frank tried to make them see that he was no threat to them, and he could see that they were more curious about the plane than anything else. He put his hands above his head to gesture that he wanted no trouble, but this only seemed to confuse them further as they did not seem to understand what it meant. One of the guards became more aggressive, throwing his knife which just missed Frank, hitting the side of the plane. Frank decided he would ask to see their chief. As he cautiously made his way towards the temple gates, some of the people began to participate in a strange tribal dance around him as though he had suddenly ceased to exist. Frank stood near the gates of the temple, unsure of what was happening or what he should do. A tribesman approached him and invited him through the gates and into the temple. Frank was a little worried to say the least and thought about a hasty retreat back to the plane and getting out of there as fast as he could, but it was too late for that now. He knew the chief was waiting to see him and no doubt wanted an explanation of what he was doing there.
Frank was ushered into a large resplendently decorative room which manifested every jewel and carving that he had ever dreamt of. The chief attempted to put him at ease by telling him that he had nothing to fear, and that the excited actions of his people had more to do with the flying machine he had arrived in than himself. Frank thought it best if he made his excuses and apologised before leaving. This was greeted as a virtual insult; the chief wanted to show him around and asked him if he would stay, as the tribe was about to eat. Frank insisted that he should leave but the chief was adamant that Frank should stay; he had many questions. Frank thought he might be thinking that he would like to keep the plane for himself.
As they began to arrange who would sit where, although they only ever sat in a circle on the floor, the chief positioned himself next to Frank and asked for gifts to be brought in. Frank knew what was coming but he wasn’t going to swap his plane for anything.
After eating, Frank was taken on a tour of other unusual buildings which, although very impressive, were not really his cup of tea. Frank was more interested in his plane, which he could see was still guarded. He wondered if he would be able to get anywhere near it himself. Looking at the plane he thought up an excuse, asking the chief he now had no trust in whatsoever, if he would excuse him for a moment as he would like to fetch his camera from the plane to take some photographs of the magnificent buildings. The chief was quite aware that Frank would attempt to leave and made sure to surround the plane with at least twelve of his guards. It wasn’t a question of wanting to keep Frank there for any other reason than to find out about his strange flying craft which the chief was very exuberant about.
As he stood admiring he was about to ask Frank how he could make one for himself when suddenly Frank had the idea of how he could leave the island and pacify the chief at the same time. He asked if the chief would like to join him in flying the plane for a short time above the island, although he explained about how there might be a problem in not having enough fuel for the flight. The chief said it wouldn’t be a problem and that he was sure he could arrange for some of their own fuel to be used, adding that it would be different to the one Frank was familiar with but just as effective as they used it in their own form of transport. Frank wasn’t so sure. He still had no real idea where he was or how he would get back home.
The chief was now beaming with delight. Frank would have to go along with the idea and make up an excuse when they got into the air. The chief climbed in behind Frank and had no knowledge of the headset which Frank tried to explain, with little success, and the whole process became a comedy of errors. Still, Frank was happy to be flying again and the chief couldn’t stop laughing either. After a little while Frank thought it was time he brought his over-excited passenger back down to earth in more ways than one, but the chief was having none of it. He wanted to stay in the air all day.
As Frank landed the plane on the narrow strip of sand, which just about passed for a landing zone, the chief was demanding to be taken up again and his actions were having the same effect on his people. Everyone seemed to be running around in a frenzy and the situation was becoming extremely volatile for Frank, as they completely surrounded the plane to greet their chief in a style of their own. Frank had no intention of getting out as he now had his plane back and was going to keep it that way. The chief wasn’t getting out either; he stood up and wallowed in the glorifying worship his people heaped upon him. Frank thought his best option would be to drive the plane forward slowly. Some of the guards meanwhile had attempted to climb onto the wings of the plane. Frank didn’t know if they were trying to help their chief down or get in with him. It seemed as if he had been there hours but, looking at his watch, it had only been twenty minutes since his take-off from the Caribbean island.
There was something far more sinister taking place than he realised. As things began to calm down he asked the chief if he could tell him the right time. The chief looked puzzled and said, “Time, what is time?”
Frank wondered if he was being serious. The chief thought the same about Frank. He was well aware of primitive tribes throughout the world and put it down to a lack of knowledge. Frank was trying to convince himself that nothing was out of place and he had just stumbled upon an outrageous culture. He began to lose his temper and told the chief that he was leaving the island right now. “Please clear the way for my take-off.”
The chief told him to wait, as he wanted to give him a gift as a reminder of his visit. ‘Visit,’ he thought, ‘I don’t even know the name of the damned place.’
He decided that he would accept the gift, as he didn’t want to offend them and thought it would lead to a peaceful departure. Frank accepted the gold statue as his gift and offered the chief a small gift in return. He thought they would have many hours’ conversation and handed him his watch. He then prepared himself for take-off and took one last look at the chief and his guards. He smiled as they tried to figure out what they had been given and captured the moment on his camera as a reminder of this strange and wondrous place.
As Frank soared into the cloudless blue sky again his instrument panel showed normal readings and the plane was flying superbly, but it was not to last long. Suddenly he could feel the plane being pulled to one side by an invisible force and the sky turning from clear to a mass of thick grey clouds. The instrument panel readings were like nothing Frank had ever seen before although the plane itself was flying normally. Frank was not a superstitious man but he couldn’t help thinking that he might be somewhere in the Bermuda area. After a minute or two of being caught up in this supernatural phase, the sky again cleared to a bright blue, the instrument panel was back to its normal layout and, looking down, Frank could see his house in the Caribbean, but could understand nothing of how he had got there.
After landing, and wondering whether or not to tell anyone about his experience, he walked slowly into the house and was met by Jane and the police. She was very upset and had been crying. Frank asked what was wrong. Jane said, “Where have you been for two days?”
He thought, ‘What is going on here?’ and said, “I’ve only been out about half an hour.”
The police officer said that Jane telephoned them the day before as he had not been seen or heard of for over twenty-four hours. Frank couldn’t accept what he was hearing. He sat down and held his head in his hands. The officer then asked, “Where exactly have you been, sir?”
Frank replied, “I don’t know the name of the place.” He looked at Jane and said, “You would never believe where I have been,” adding that he would fetch the golden statue from the plane and then try to explain about the tribe he had encountered. As he made his way across to the plane he began to question his own sanity, but no matter what he thought, he knew that what had happened was very, very real. He also took into the house the camera as extra proof and told the police that they could see where he had been when the photographs had been developed. Jane knew the type of man he was and that there must be something in what he was saying. He wouldn’t make up a story like that, even as a joke. The officer said he would call off the search for Frank’s plane and leave them to talk things through themselves; as Frank was safely back home it was no longer a police matter.
The next morning Frank woke early, eager to take the photographs to the developers. Jane hadn’t said very much and still had her suspicions as to what had really happened. She thought he must have known he had been away from home for two days; why hadn’t he phoned? It was so out of character. Then she thought he might have amnesia, but quickly ruled it out as he had found his way home well enough and knew exactly who she was. She then decided to drop the subject and wait to see what the photos revealed, hoping they would shed some light on the problem.
After a cup of coffee but nothing eat, which was to make Jane worry even more, he said he would drop the film off then catch up on things at the local golf club as he hadn’t been for a few weeks and thought it would help to take his mind off things for a while, or at least until the photos were ready. Jane didn’t think he should go there. She said, “Don’t you think you should come home and rest for a while after you’ve taken the film in?”
He told her he wouldn’t stay very long and not to make such a fuss as everything would be fine. Before leaving, he told her to keep her fingers crossed that the photos came out alright and kissed her on the cheek. Soon after, he was at the golf club enjoying himself, although there was still a measure of uncertainty as to what the photos would actually show; he was no expert and had only randomly aimed his camera at what he thought would be interesting to look back on some day. He didn’t mention anything about his adventure to his friends at the club. When someone asked him if he had taken his plane out anywhere exciting lately he just smiled knowingly and said, “Not too far.”
After a short practice and organising a game for the following week, Frank made his way home to wait for four o’clock when he could pick up the photos. Something was telling him to take a closer look at the statue, as there might be more to it than he had first thought.
Back at the house, Jane was becoming more concerned about his state of mind as since he had returned from that first flight it seemed as if something had taken him over. He was more on edge. She saw the car drive up and pulled herself together. She didn’t want him to think that she was worried. He hadn’t been in two minutes when he picked up the statue and looked for an insignia or something that would tell him more about the people who had made it as he hadn’t spent very much time with them but, as he looked, Jane entered the room and said that perhaps he was getting too involved and thought it would be better if he just kept it as an ornament, or better still, as it was solid gold, have it melted down and made into jewellery. Frank told her that he thought it could be worth a fortune just the way it was. She then asked him what time he was going to pick up the photos, as the conversation about the statue was obviously heading towards a row.
As four o’clock approached, Frank thought he would call in at the local antique shop and ask if they could tell him anything about it, especially the region. He thought at least he would know if it was in the Caribbean, as he had a strange feeling that it could be over one thousand years old and had been passed down through many generations, possibly even to other tribes on different continents. He was sure he had seen similar works in various parts of the world, but first he must collect his photographs.
At the shop counter the salesgirl told him that only three had developed as the rest of the film was completely ruined. She also said something that Frank thought very odd. She told him that he should never use such old film in what was virtually a brand new camera. A little taken aback to say the least, Frank said, “I think you must be mistaken. I put a new film in not ten days ago.”
She then showed him the film and told him that it was at least thirty years old. Frank laughed and said, “That is ridiculous. If it’s that old, how did these three come out so well?”
They both looked again at the perfectly developed shots and the girl shrugged her shoulders and said, “It’s a mystery the shots have come out at all as the film shouldn’t work, full stop, in that camera,” continuing, “in fact, it shouldn’t even fit.”
Frank thought he would buy a new roll of film while he was there and once again told her, “I am sure that I put the proper film in there.”
He then walked out and, deep in thought, made his way across to the car to get the statue. Still very puzzled, he took it, along with the photos, into the antique shop.
As he handed it over, keeping the photos in his pocket as he didn’t think they were relevant, the assistant was astonished. He said, “This is absolutely incredible, sir,” and called the proprietor to come and take a look at the piece. For the next few minutes, with the aid of a magnifying glass, they seemed to be entranced in another world. They decided that, with Frank’s permission, they would like to research it further with the help of some books they had at home, and told him he would be quite welcome to join them. Frank asked where they thought it originated from. The owner replied, “Well, I’m not entirely sure; I will have to do some more research, but I think it could be from Egypt, during the reign of Cafu.” He then asked Frank where he had acquired the piece.
Frank didn’t really want to tell him the truth and thought he wouldn’t believe him if he did. He said, “Oh, it’s been in a trunk at the back of the garage for years and when I was looking for some other items I just came across it again and thought I would bring it along for a valuation and to see what you could tell me about it.”
The owner didn’t believe a word of it. He thought no-one would keep such a magnificent object in those conditions. Surely he must have recognised it as being solid gold? Even a novice would know it was something special by its sheer weight. Frank could see that his story had not fooled them and, a little embarrassed, told them where he really got it from. After his strange explanation the owner, slightly confused that an unknown tribe would have what he thought was definitely Egyptian, told Frank that they would check the information in their books after work and gave him the address so that he could go along too. Frank thanked them and said he would see them later.
He drove home, quite pleased, and thought he would ask Jane to go along with him. She agreed and was happy that he seemed to be back to his old self. He hadn’t shown the photos in the shop as it had slipped his mind, so he asked Jane to remind him to show them to the owner later. He then told her about the film in the camera and, laughing, said he had got thirty-year-old pictures out of a two-year-old camera. Jane thought he was joking and said, “What are you talking about? Are you feeling alright?”
Then, to her even further disbelief, he took the photos out of the wallet. They were small and narrow with that unmistakable smoky brown tint she had seen on many others from the fifties and sixties. Then she thought they looked even older, saying they could be from the thirties or forties. Then the subject turned to the photo of the chief and his guards which stood out from the other two, mainly of the buildings and scenery. Jane queried how a tribe of supposedly not very well-educated people could amass such wealth and prosperity in this day and age without being discovered.
Frank said, “What makes you think they live in this day and age?”
Jane just gave him an inexplicable look and walked out the room to get ready. Frank was wondering if the shop owner and his assistant had found out anything about the statue and couldn’t wait to hear any news they might have for him concerning the value. Then his thoughts were distracted as he heard something outside. He thought someone was tampering with the plane and went out to investigate, but could see no-one. He then shouted from the door to Jane that he would wait for her in the car, as it was almost time for them to leave. Jane said she would be along in a minute, as she couldn’t decide which shoes to wear.
Frank sat in front of the house, blowing the horn and mumbling, “Hurry up!” He was acting like an over-excited schoolboy and began looking through the photos yet again, so much engrossed in them that he didn’t even see Jane get into the car. She had to snatch the photos out of his hand to get his attention. She smiled and said wistfully that she would be glad to get there and see him put out of his misery, adding that she hoped they would have some good news for him.
On their arrival at the house, the two men greeted Frank and Jane and asked them in. They showed little emotion as to whether the statue held any real value or not. After asking what they would like to drink, the proprietor, who introduced himself as Roger Porter and his assistant as Anton Fitzgerald, told Frank that they’d had no luck in finding much in the way of tangible evidence as to where the statue really came from, but did say that it was certainly the image of an Egyptian or Mayan god or king. He added that it was also much older than first suspected.
Frank said, “Are you telling me that those people I spent two days with disappeared and became extinct thousands of years ago?”
Looking concerned as to where Frank had been, Porter said, “In a word, yes.”
Frank and Jane were stunned. Frank then looked at the statue and said that he would keep it as a souvenir and if they could find out anything about it to let him know. Jane didn’t say anything. She just wanted to forget all about the strange episode.
On their way home, Frank was trying to jolly himself up a little by changing the subject. He said, “I think I’ll take the plane back tomorrow and ask them to make me a rocket instead.” Jane didn’t see the funny side or have the heart to laugh. She was still trying to figure out how he had taken a modern-day private plane back in time to over three thousand years ago.
Glad to be back home, she made them a drink and sat down to watch TV. Frank once again began to look at the photos. He didn’t mention anything to Jane but thought that he would take them to a professional photographer in the morning and ask them if they could give him a date as to when they were in production. He put them down on the table and Jane just knew that he had something else in mind and, shaking her head, decided that he wouldn’t let go until he got some kind of an answer and it would be best to just let him get it out of his system, the silly old fool.
Frank didn’t sleep much, between spending time looking at the photos and looking across at the hangar where he kept his plane, desperate to fly again as soon as he came back from the photographer’s which, looking at the clock, was only a matter of a few hours as it was almost six o’clock already. He managed to get a couple of hours sleep through sheer tiredness and woke up at just before eight.
At breakfast, Jane asked what he would do with the photos if they proved to be significant in some way. Before he could answer the telephone rang. Frank picked up the receiver and found he was speaking to someone from the local radio station who had got to hear about the statue and dated photographs. They wanted him to go on a night show and explain the details of how it had all come about. Frank hadn’t expected such a fuss to be made and said that he wouldn’t be going on the show as he knew very little of what the statue was. He added that he was no expert to go on a radio programme and speak about something he knew very little about. Thanking the person on the line, Frank said goodbye. He told Jane about the invite and that he had declined, as he wouldn’t know what to say. She thought he had done the right thing and hoped they wouldn’t come under siege from every journalist on the island. Frank told her not to worry – if things got out of hand he would release a statement to the press. He told her that it would all blow over in a day or two, but as he now had the photos he thought he might as well try and find out how the film had worked and, for that matter, how it came to be in a two-year-old camera. As he walked out of the house he said, “I won’t be too long,” and took the ten minute journey which he hoped would clear up some of the mystery.
He entered the shop and was amazed to see that they had for sale every camera and accessory imaginable. Some of the equipment he thought must date back to the turn of the century. Frank began to tell his story and produced the photos from his jacket pocket, wondering if he had done the right thing. The man who owned the shop listened to the story attentively, not knowing what to make of the part in which the film had been considerably older than the camera. All he could suggest was that perhaps a member of the so-called chief’s tribe or one of his guards had switched his new film for the old one without telling him, adding that there might be a very good reason for it. He continued that perhaps the guards had inspected Frank’s camera, not recognised the modern film and replaced it with the old one. Frank then said, “But how did they get it to fit and work so well?”
Again the shop assistant said, “They could have altered the camera in some way to accommodate it.”
“Would you like to see the camera? It wouldn’t take me long to go home for it?”
The assistant said, “Well, it would show us if any alterations had been done to suit the tribe.”
Frank told him he would be back soon and left to pick up the camera, thinking to himself how ingenious for such an ancient people to change the mechanism of a modern camera.
Jane said, “That didn’t take long. What did they say about them?”
Frank answered, “Oh, we haven’t finished yet. I’ve just come back for the camera. They want to have a look to see if it’s been altered in some way.”
Jane thought it was getting more bizarre by the minute; within seconds he was out of the house again and on his way back to the shop. Soon the assistant and he had the cover off the back. The shop assistant immediately saw that changes had been made and showed Frank what the inside of it should look like by opening up an identical model he had in the shop. Frank was amazed but very impressed. He thanked the assistant and put the camera back into its case. Then he remembered about the date of the photos and asked if he could give an approximate era as to when that particular make of film was used. The assistant said, “Well, the added parts to the camera are from an early sixties Kodak Sterling II and the photos from around the same time.” He then went into details of certain rolls of film that were available at the time. Frank didn’t understand much of the technical jargon but was happy that he had found out how the photos had been produced. He could now concentrate on flying again and hoped he wouldn’t be heading into any more storm clouds.
Frank spent the following morning preparing the plane for an afternoon flight, including having an engineer friend of his over to check that dials and switches were in perfect working order and to hear some reassuring words that there were no engine problems. After a thorough examination he was told that everything was in top condition. Frank climbed in and taxied down the runway, which had recently been constructed by local private plane enthusiasts just across the street from his house. Soon he was in the air and he put to the back of his mind his previous encounter.
The sun was shining and the plane, he thought, was flying even better than last time. Soon he was nearing Cuba, or at least that was where he calculated himself to be, but couldn’t really find his bearings. Looking down and then at a not very well-defined map, he thought he had got himself completely lost once again. Another look around and he was heading straight into thick, dark cloud. He couldn’t believe it was happening all over again. The radio was dead and the plane was being drawn along by some outside force. As hard as he tried, Frank couldn’t take back control. The rain lashed against the fiberglass frame; lightning just missed the cockpit and Frank watched in disbelief as the blue streaks danced along the fuselage. Suddenly the plane began to lose altitude, the sky turned to a clear cloudless blue and it seemed as if the storm had never happened. Frank then found himself looking out on a vast, steaming jungle. He had no idea where he was, but had regained his control over the plane. He then noticed a large clearing just ahead and four of the most impressive mansion-style houses he had ever seen. Then, almost subliminally, he was landing the plane on the clearing just yards from the front of one of the giant-sized homes. Frank had always thought of himself as being a sensible man, never straying too far from his humdrum lifestyle; he didn’t really know how to deal with his new adventurous escapades.
Before he got out he saw two men approaching the plane. They had got out of a large black car. Frank thought it was a limo but could only see part of it as it was obscured by the house. The men wore white shirts and knee-length black coats, black ties and shades. One of them took out a gun from a chest holster and pointed it directly at Frank; the other man in no uncertain terms told him to get out of the plane and lie face down on the ground. Frank wasn’t about to argue and did as he was told. He was then handcuffed and frog-marched into the car. The two men sat one on each side of him and put a blindfold on before the car moved an inch. Frank had never been so frightened in all his life.
After the initial meeting with them, none of them had said a word. Frank didn’t know if he had been kidnapped, arrested or what. The journey lasted about fifteen minutes. He was then hurried into a building where the blindfold was removed. As his eyes became used to the light he was led into a small interview-type room and told to sit down. In the room was a military officer and the two men Frank recognised as his detainers. He asked, “Why have I been brought here? I have done nothing wrong.”
The officer shouted, “I will decide what you’ve done and I will also ask the questions.” He added, “You will answer to the best of your ability.”
One of the men standing by Frank told him he had violated military air space. Frank pleaded that it was unintentional and explained how he had become caught up in the storm. The officer, somewhat confused, said, “What storm? We haven’t had a storm for weeks.”
He went on to explain that they monitored the weather and any imminent storms were known about at least two days before they hit.
Frank said, “Well, I know a storm when I see one. I wasn’t dreaming.”
He was then asked who he was working for. He told the men that he had recently retired from the hotel business and had taken up flying as a hobby and stated, again, that he was very sorry if he had entered private air space but he genuinely did not know. After a brief discussion the officer seemed convinced by Frank’s story, apart from what he had said about being caught in a storm. He then said to Frank that he wouldn’t be questioned any further and told him that what he had experienced was standard procedure and military practice. Frank nodded and said that he understood. He didn’t ask any questions but hoped he might be given some insight as to what the island was being used for. To his surprise, as they left the room, the officer asked if he would like to see some of the work which was in operation. The officer thought it would be in their interests if Frank left the island with some disinformation stories which could help quell public concern and media interest. He could see that Frank was a man people could trust and would believe.
Although he was never going to get the full story, Frank said he would be happy to look around. He was taken in a jeep to some corrugated arched buildings where he was asked to put on some overalls to which an ID pass was fixed. As they got back into the jeep, Frank noticed two buildings with the toxic chemicals skull insignia emblazoned on the doors and red danger signs at various intervals along the route. Before they arrived at the intended destination, Frank was warned not to ask anyone who worked at the base any questions and was told that everything would be explained to him.
Passing through a checkpoint, Frank could see that no chances had been taken on security. He also saw that his plane had been brought in and put into an area marked ‘Quarantine’. The jeep was then parked close to one of the base hangars and Frank was shown various aircraft, most of which he already recognised, and thought that the most exciting hardware was being kept hidden from view. Although he was interested in seeing more, Frank remembered that he should really be getting back home and thought for a moment of asking what day it was as he didn’t want a repeat of the first episode.
As they walked around, a convoy of military trucks along with two vans with their windows blacked out entered the base. Frank glimpsed among the military personnel a handful of people dressed in white one-piece suits wearing what seemed like dust masks over their mouths. He also noticed two nurses who were both carrying cases of what he presumed were medical supplies. Frank began to think that something wasn’t quite adding up and no matter what time or even what day he would get home, he decided that he had to try and get a better idea of what was really going on. He thought that maybe he should just ask what technical advances were being introduced into the modern warplane, but expected the answer would be listed under ‘Top Secret’ and he didn’t want to listen to one of their made-up stories or attempt to break through such a high level of security.
As Frank continued his tour of little interest, suddenly the base was rocked by a series of underground explosions. The two men in suits quickly escorted Frank away from the area then shouted at him to get into a car parked near the checkpoint gates. His eyes began to sting and he could hardly open them. His mouth was dry and he thought his throat was on fire. The two men had him driven straight to a hospital in a separate part of the same base. In his distress he was aware that the two suited men were quite unaffected by the blasts. He was then injected with a mixture which made his whole body feel as though it were a block of ice. After a few minutes of a terrible numbing feeling, Frank was back to his old self. He had a final check made on his eyes and was considered to be out of any danger. What puzzled him and more than that, annoyed him, was the fact that no-one had spoken a word. It had all been done with just a nod of the head as though everyone who worked there was telepathic. As he thought about it, Frank knew that it could be possible for experiments of this kind to be tested on the base.
Looking at his watch it was just after seven and he knew Jane would be watching the horizon for the lights of his plane. He just hoped that didn’t mean she would contact the police again although he still had a few hours to get back before a search party could be called out. He then asked when he could be driven back to his plane, as he wanted to go home, explaining that Jane would be worried. One of the suited men told him that they still had one or two points to go over with him about any statement he might make to the newspapers or TV channels.
Frank expected to be grilled on what and what not to tell them. Even though he had seen nothing of great importance, there was the incident with the explosions plus anything he had figured out for himself. He was told, “It’s just routine,” and was asked to sign some papers. One of them stated that he had been questioned for trespassing on or near military borders and the other required his signature stating military denial of any wrongdoing or mistreatment of Frank in any way. He signed the papers and thought that he would now be free to leave, but he could tell from the conversation between the hierarchy that something wasn’t right and, just to rub things in even more, they had stopped speaking English in front of him. It was all in German or French with a smattering of Russian thrown in just for good measure. One of the suited men then asked Frank what he knew about telepathy.
“Nothing, other than it being contact by mind instead of speech,” he replied. He didn’t go on to say that he had already seen it put into practice by the very men who were now pumping him for information on the subject. Strange they should ask though, he thought. He told them that he had heard about telepathy but thought it had never and would never be actually achieved in reality, and added that he wasn’t particularly interested and could he please now go home. One of them told him to keep calm and that they were not finished with him or satisfied that he was not going to take action and try to fly over the base or surrounding area again. Frank couldn’t believe what he thought they were implying. He shouted in absolute anger, “Are you saying that I am a spy?”
One of the answered, “We have to consider and cover every possibility and angle. We don’t know who you are and that’s a dangerous position for us to be in.” He then added, “Let’s hope for your sake that you are telling the truth.”
Frank had discovered that trust meant nothing to these people and the way in which they had changed their minds about him was incredible. Soon after, a base commander was brought in to try and determine whether or not Frank had seen or heard anything he shouldn’t have. Frank was then asked a series of very different questions about his health, fitness and powers of intelligence. They also wanted him to participate in some tests. “Is this really necessary?” he asked.
The reply was a quite convincing, “Yes, we need to know how much information you may have absorbed – if not consciously, then subconsciously.”
Frank was getting more worried and thought if he didn’t leave soon he would become just another test guinea pig in a terrifying mind-control experiment.
Before he could again ask to be freed, a medical team entered the room with a mountain of equipment; a headset was placed on one of the suited men and another identical set was placed on Frank. He knew that they wanted to read his mind and tried hard not to think about anything he had encountered while on the base. All he hoped they would be able to try and read would be his thoughts about going home to Jane and continuing a normal life which included flying his plane, just for the love of it. The machine was then switched on. The whole process lasted less than a minute before another lengthy discussion which finally determined an answer to their satisfaction. But it wasn’t good news for Frank. He was told that they were now convinced that he knew more than he was admitting to about their work in the field of telepathy and mind control, and also put to him was the fact he had been sent by a foreign intelligence to spy and collect secret information on the subject. Frank couldn’t believe their audacity but decided that it would be best if he said nothing other than asking for his solicitor to be contacted and brought to the base. The officer told Frank that a solicitor would be of little use to him and that the outcome he was seeking would only be possible with his full co-operation. Frank knew what that really meant was that if he went along with being their guinea pig for their dubious experiments he would then be free to go. With escape being virtually impossible and a solicitor now inviolable, Frank seemed to have little choice to win back his freedom and agreed to be tested further.
He was then taken to a medical test centre where, to his horror, he was told that a small microchip receiver was to be implanted in his brain. Frank thought it getting out of control; he hadn’t yet got over being accused of spying. He was told to lie down on the large steel trolley. Two nurses, wearing unusual one-piece red suits and facemasks at all times; another smaller trolley was then wheeled in consisting of every surgical instrument Frank could think of – he couldn’t take his eyes off their facemasks. Again nothing was said, it was all being arranged telepathically; one of the surgeons brought in a white gown and directed Frank to a changing room, asking him to hurry as there was little time available before he would be required elsewhere for his final series of tests.
By now it was almost midnight, and again, back at their house, Jane was frantic with worry. She took the car and made her way to Frank’s old golfing friends’ houses; none of them had seen him or had any idea where he could be. Jane thought she would ask across at the airfield where Frank kept his plane but, again, no-one had seen him there since he had taken off earlier in the day, and at that time of night only the men who had engine trouble and enjoyed working on the planes were in there. Frank wasn’t really the type; he had his own engineer who came from out of town and rarely spent much time in the hangars. Jane thought that she would wait a little longer. Looking once more towards the horizon, Frank’s plane was still nowhere to be seen. She cursed the day that he bought it and went back into the house as there was little she could do now until morning when she planned to give him an ultimatum – either he spent more time at home, as she didn’t want him to give up flying completely, or she would go back to live in England. She thought that Frank was getting carried away with his hobby – her way of blocking any bad thoughts about what might have happened to him.
Meanwhile, Frank had received the implant but his mind was only concerned and, to the detriment of the tests, preoccupied with the fact that Jane should be told of his whereabouts and medical condition. Although he felt a little drowsy and had no expectation of what was to happen next, he had to make these fiends contact Jane. He quickly gained back his strength enough to raise himself from his bed of steel and grab hold of one of the zombie-like surgeons standing close to him. Before Frank could utter a single word he was overpowered by the remaining medics and black-suited agents; this time he was tied to a sliding frame which was attached to the side of the trolley by leather straps, then one of the medics administered an injection to help sedate him. Incredibly he heard one of them finally speak into a communication system fixed to the wall. They seemed very pleased with their experiment and Frank heard one of them say that they had managed to stop a volatile situation becoming a serious security risk. Frank was absolutely amazed at their seemingly over-sensitivity but was soon too tired and weak to take much enjoyment from it. Emotionally exhausted, he was soon asleep.
As he slept in the underground tranquility of the base, Frank was unaware of a message from an employee winging its way to Jane – not by post or telephone, as that could be intercepted, but by person. The unknown base employee had instructed a close friend to visit Frank’s home and inform Jane of where he was being held, but to say nothing of the torment he had endured or that his release might prove to be extremely difficult. The message was soon relayed to Jane. Her reaction was to scream out, “What are they doing to him?” She was told that civilian pilots were not appreciated flying over military test zones. The messenger also informed Jane that he did now have some help on the inside and assured her that he was in good spirits; the true horrors of his ordeal were kept from her as requested.
Jane wanted to be taken to the base and, frustratingly, threatened to inform the authorities that Frank was being wrongly detained for simply being in the wrong place at the wrong time. The messenger warned her that the personnel who were in control of the base wouldn’t take kindly to the story finding its way into the newspapers, and anything Jane or anyone else said would be categorically denied. She was then told that there were very few if any ways of securing a satisfactory outcome when dealing with such organisations and it would be to her advantage if she was to take instructions from the employee who had taken pity on Frank. The messenger then gave Jane some encouragement before leaving by saying they would get Frank to write to her and, along with the instructions on how to get him out of there, he said that he would return soon and not to worry. Before he left, Jane thanked him and said that she would do as requested.
Jane didn’t have to wait too long before her messenger arranged to meet her out at a desolate location where he could be sure that they wouldn’t be seen by anyone who worked at the base. He gave Jane some photos of Frank as proof that he was there and told her that it would at least prevent any denial by a spokesperson operating under duress to participate in misleading stories for the press. He then told her that he thought it was going to come down to a basic psychological warfare game between Frank and certain people at the base, adding that if Frank could keep his nerve, but at the same time convince them that he was not a spy, he would no doubt be set free, although he would be monitored by a base crew for a period of time. The man told her that they must now leave the area and she must take the photos to the media; he then speeded away.
Jane stood alone and took the photos out of the envelope. As she looked at them it cheered her up a little as they were mainly ones where Frank was being shown around before the sudden mood change that was to lead to his arrest. Suddenly Jane snapped out of her daydream and drove straight to the island’s newspaper offices. She was becoming more and more paranoid, looking at every car, plane and suited man walking. Before going into the large reception area of the building, Jane looked through the window, hoping there wouldn’t be many people with long monotonous stories where very little had happened. Although she had no idea how to begin to tell her own version of events concerning Frank, she just prayed that she would be believed and hopefully make their front page. As she waited, Jane noticed one of the paper’s journalists who had written several stories over the years concerning activities at the base and thought that she would approach him direct. As he entered the building Jane introduced herself and went on to give him a brief explanation of what had happened. He seemed very interested and invited her into one of the offices, introducing himself as Toran Linuze, and told Jane that he had been working on the island for three years with most of that time spent finding out anything he could about the base and other testing grounds in and around the island. Jane said that she hadn’t had much interest in the subject herself but added that she did recognise him from the newspaper. She then gave Linuze the envelope which contained the photos and asked if he could help in any way. Linuze looked longingly at the photos and then asked if she had any other proof, adding that the photos themselves showed very little in the way of physical abuse or mental torture. She told him that she had no other evidence and didn’t know in her own mind if she should mention her source from inside the base as any publicity might endanger Frank’s life. Linuze said that he would write a piece but wouldn’t mention Frank’s name. He added that it could be misconceived at the base and they would then let Frank go as if nothing had happened, making her and the newspaper look like the guilty parties in some kind of vendetta against them. He then told Jane that it would be best to keep Frank’s name out, but use it in a future article after they could assess a reaction from the base in connection with the first article. Jane agreed. Although it all sounded a bit complicated to her, she thought that Linuze knew what he was doing and would leave it in his hands. He smiled and could see that she was unsure as to how it would all pan out.
Before Jane stood up to leave the room, Linuze asked a colleague if she could find out about anyone who had gone missing from the island within the last five years. He was asked if he meant missing for a short time or still missing today. Linuze replied, “Anyone – long or short time.”
Jane asked if he thought that there might be others being held at the base.
“Well,” he sighed, “I’m not sure, but if I can build up a picture from a missing persons list it might tell us something; we might hit on some kind of pattern and that will tell us if Frank is alone up there or not. If he is it will be more difficult to generate any real public interest, but if there are others in the position of being held against their will it won’t be too long before there’s a public outcry after the story breaks.”
Jane thanked him and said that she would be at the house. Writing down her phone number on a scrap of paper, she asked Linuze to contact her as soon as he had any information, no matter how immaterial it seemed. Linuze didn’t say anything about the source of where the photos had originated but he had an idea that someone inside the base was behind it. He had enough expertise in the business of dealing with the military to know that a mole could sometimes be very successful, but most of them were usually caught and shot before their work was completed; he was also aware that if this were to happen now it would also compromise his own position and, more importantly, Jane’s safety. Although she was of the opinion that her contact was a great help, Linuze had to convince her that she would be wise to leave it be.
He telephoned her as soon as he knew that she had had enough time to reach home and told her of the possible dangers of having someone from the base visiting her home with news of Frank, which might not necessarily be true. Jane was confused as to what she should do: she didn’t want to abandon her contact inside the base but she could also see the point Linuze was making. As Jane was deep in thought, Linuze asked, “Are you still there?” Thinking that maybe someone from the base had arrived at her house, he was relieved to hear her shakily mumble, “Yes, I’m here.”