Children Laughing, People Passing.........

You know how, sometimes, you wake up in the middle of the night and it's dark, and quiet, and for a moment you're disoriented - you don't know where you are. This has happened to me - several times - recently. And in those brief moments - that uncertainty - I think that I'm still in the hospital, before the operation, and that the last 3 years were all a dream. Then I roll over and see the redly glowing, digital time display on the cable box. And I can breathe again. And go back to sleep.
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It wasn't easy, at first, but I've kept myself in check this past month. This is not to say that I haven't been aggravated, haven't been tempted to use the Flasher. But I had resolved to control that impulse before my last meeting with Craig and I've held myself to it. There were so many instances...

- the drivers who cut me off, the speeders, and the too-slows;
- the shoppers who pushed me aside, or hit me with their carts, or didn't have their money ready;
- the people arguing too loudly on their cell phones, treating their waiters/waitresses badly, or just thinking they're better then everyone else.

I might have followed them - before - but not now. Now, I'm trying to let things go. Not hold them in. Not let them get to me. Not pay so much attention to individual people. It hasn't been easy, especially now that the Christmas season has started.

The weather has been kind of strange lately. It's been unseasonably warm until the last few days, and the damp rainy days we've had haven't helped to bring on the festive mood. But, I do what I can.

I like the Holidays... partly. It annoys me that the music and ads start earlier and earlier each year. But I can usually get that Christmasy feeling when shopping for presents (though I try to never go to the malls or big-box stores on weekends because of the crowds).

I got almost all of my shopping done early, so I'm only looking for one more thing, just not sure of what it will be. Today, I figured to check out the Menlo Park Mall early and got there just after the anchor stores opened, but before the smaller ones did. I figured on wandering through, window-shopping. It was not crowded.

The mall walkers were out, of course, and the employees for the smaller stores were arriving, or eating breakfast in the Food Court. There were some shoppers, and quite a few mothers with their kids in strollers - all dressed up for a picture with Santa.

I walked along the lower level first I was even enjoying the subtle sounds of the piped in carols. There was no pushing, no screaming, (the calm before the storm). I took one of the escalators up to the second level passing by the entrance to Macy's, when out of the corner of my eye, I noticed someone walk by.

There was no real reason to notice him, and yet...there was............ something. I stopped outside of Old Navy, and tried to figure it out. What was it?

Then it hit me...the jacket! I'd seen the jacket before. More probably, I'd seen the guy wearing that jacket before...and recently. But where? I couldn't remember.

I turned back. He wasn't in sight but the escalator was close by. I went to the railing and looked down. At the bottom of the escalator, I could see him looking up as if searching for someone. He was wearing a baseball cap now, but I could tell he stopped searching when he spotted me. He saluted in my direction, then spun around and walked out of view.

I started after him but I knew I'd never catch him. There was an exit to a parking lot, an entrance to the Macy's, and several smaller shops down there. He could've gone anywhere.

I reached the First Floor, but he was gone.

Why did I recognize the jacket? Who was he?

Why was he at the mall? And, why had he acknowledged me?

I had the questions, but no answers.

I mulled it over as I headed back to where I parked my car. The way I saw it, there were only two possible answers.
1. I'm over-reacting, possibly a bit paranoid. But I'm sure that I've seen that jacket before, and why did he salute in my direction? Or..........
2. It was Del. He's following me for some reason - again.
Either way, I needed to contact Doyle. I'd call the number I had as soon as I got into my car and had some privacy.

That turned out to be unnecessary.

 Doyle was standing by my car when I got there. We shook hands.
"I was just about to call you."
"Are you OK?"
"Sure..Why wouldn't I be?"
"The Tracker on our Delaware subject popped back up about 1/2 an hour ago showing that he was here in the Mall. A quick check also showed that you were here too, and in close proximity. Did anyone speak to you..approach you in any way?"
"No. But there was someone and that was why I was going to contact you." I told him what had happened. I told him about the jacket. He asked what the guy looked like, and I told him what I could.

He rubbed his face with his hand. He looked tired.

"Was it him?... Del?... The guy I saw?"
He was quiet for a minute or two, then nodded his head slowly. "Sounds like it may have been, given the circumstances."
"Why?..Why is he doing this?..."
"We don't know...He's playing us...He's got some kind of agenda but we can't figure it out. I'm sorry, Denny, we just don't know."
"So you think he's, what, using me to rub your nose in it? He's laughing at you, and he wants you to know it? Is that it?"

Doyle ran his fingers through his hair and paced back and forth. He was trying to control himself.

"Maybe, Denny, but I'm getting sick of it." He paused, and rolled his neck, "We're gonna get him." He said softly. "We're gonna get him if it's the last thing I do." His eyes were hard.

His phone went off, but he ignored it.
"I'll be in touch, Denny. As soon as I work out a few things, I'll be in touch."
He turned quickly and walked away, pulling out his phone.

I stood there staring after him, long after he'd gotten into his SUV and drove away.

.............Who Was Not There

The first thing I did on Friday, after I found that crayoned note in my newspaper, was to leave a message at the number that Doyle had given me. I heard nothing back for the rest of the day, and nothing on Saturday, either. Sunday I got a text. Basically, it said to do whatever I planned to do on Monday, and someone would find me.

I really had no plans for today, but I went out and stopped at a few places.

 First, ShopRite to check out their sales. I picked up a few things. Next, P. C. Richards. My car radio died and I wanted to check out one that they had on sale (with free installation). I'm actually kind of iffy on this, and since no one came over to offer any help, I just left. Maybe I'll check to see if it's really just a problem with a fuse.

No contact so far.

I decided to take the long way to Target, so I got some coffee at Dunkin' Donuts, and turned down the side road. The evidence of last weekend's storm is still lying all over. Tree branches are stacked at curb sides all along the residential streets, and there was at least one spot that still had evidence of a downed power line problem. It's been like this for over a week. Thank God, I didn't have any problem, but I did feel kind of bad for people upstate who still have no power.

I checked out a few things in Target, but didn't buy. As I left the store, I saw Craig standing by my car.

"Hey, Craig. Thanks for coming out."
"No problem, Mr. O'Neill. I understand you have something from our Delaware subject?"

I opened the car, and took the newspaper out.

"From Del? Yeah. Here. I don't know what you can do with it."
"Probably nothing, but I'll let the lab boys try anyway."
"You're not questioning that this is a message from Del?"
"No. We're pretty sure that it is."
"Then there's something I don't understand....He seems to be claiming that he caused these..this...Event. How could that be? Don't you guys keep these things out of the papers?"

Craig put the newspaper in a plastic envelope he took from the side pocket of his jacket.

"We thought the subject, or rather Del, was in Pennsylvania. There were.....indications. It doesn't matter now. He blindsided us."
"OK. But how did it get into the newspaper?"
""Look, Mr. O'Neill, you were here last weekend. That storm wreaked havoc all over the area. There are still problems."
"I know. I've seen some of the damage."
"With all due respect, sir, the damage upstate was much worse. When we were notified that his Flasher had been used, we mobilized right away. But we just couldn't get in there without attracting attention."

He paused, and I waited him out.

"the People Upstairs decided that we could use the storm damage situation to disguise what happened. So we had one agent slip in, and set it up to look like carbon monoxide poisoning...I'm not proud of it, but there it is."
"It wasn't you, was it?"
"No...No, thank God. But it was one of us....It just didn't seem right.."

I didn't bother to argue with him. After all, I'd never bothered to ask what happened with the other Events in the past.

"Well, should I be worried that Del sent this to me?"
"No. Our shrinks think that he's happy to get into the papers, so he reached out to someone he felt would understand. We don't think you're in any trouble. They think he's just showing off."
"Damn. All right. well, what about what appeared to be initials..the A. G.?"
"We don't know. It may be that he's using an alias. They're definitely not his real ones."
"What are his real ones?"
He grinned at me.
I just stood there a while,, nodding my head. This time, Craig waited me out.

"So....status quo, huh? Keep doing what I do, and you'll let me know whatever you think I should know?"
"Yes sir. For now. But feel free to contact us whenever you have a question, or something..." he held up the envelope, "..comes up."
"Thanks, Craig."
"Have a good one, Mr. O'Neill."

He walked away. I got in my car and drove home.

The Little Man.............

For the last 2 1/2 weeks, I've been feeling guilty. I was stressing over some test results, and used the Flasher to take it out on some people who annoyed me. I had reacted quickly, without really thinking about the consequences. Luckily there were none. No one saw me, and no one - so far - has called me on it.

Now, I'm coming up on my 3rd Anniversary as a transplant recipient. I'm reliving all those "good to be alive" feelings. This is leading to a lot of regret at having played along with Doyle and DHS. At first, of course, I felt like I had no choice, but later.......?

What's that quote.."Power corrupts, absolute power corrupts absolutely"..?

When there was a quota - deadlines - it was different. When Doyle, or Givings, or Craig was in the picture, I guess I justified what I did as being part of The Project. Now that it's only me, I have to admit that I let it go to my head.

I had power.

I had power, and I used it.

I had power, and I used it,.. wrongly.

I know that things have changed at the DHS. I've been led to believe that someone - hopefully, Doyle - would eventually contact me about The Project. I'll have to control the urges until they do.

Not stop..control. After all, they didn't take the Flasher back. They must want me to continue using it. Just not so much for my own gratification.

Today was to be the first day of my new resolve. I got up around 8, and ran through my morning routine and checked my emails. I went out.

I put my wash in a machine, picked up the paper and some lottery tickets, and did some food shopping. I picked up my wash, had breakfast at Mickey D's, and picked up a sandwich at Subways.
I went home. Put away the wash and the groceries, turned on the TV, made some tea, and sat down to read the paper. I didn't get too far.

Scrawled in what looked like crayon was the message.."Denny, Mine! A. G. (Del)".. next to a circled  sidebar article about a couple being found dead during the power outage.

What?...... How?............Who?............

It was addressed to me.

I don't buy my paper at the same place every day, and I don't always take the top copy, so it couldn't be a set up. The paper had been in my car when I was picking up my wash, eating, and buying the sandwich. Could someone have gotten at it then? Why?

It was addressed to me. And it looked like "Del" inside the parenthesis.

The article was about a couple who died, supposedly by carbon dioxide poisoning. But what if it was Del, the DHS subject from Delaware?

And why would he be doing this..sending me this message?

Who, or what, did the letters "A. G." stand for?

Too many questions, and no answers at all. Some lines from a poem I remember hearing when I was a kid came to me..

          He was not there again today
          Oh how I wish he'd go away.

If this was Del, I really did.

Arc 6

Passing the Time............................

Usually, I find it easy to wait. I'm not in any hurry, and I almost always have a paperback book with me. Today, however, is tough.

I had an ultrasound done last week at my doctor's request, just to check on a couple of other internal organs that might be affected by the immuno-suppressants I take. I was told that the results would be evaluated and sent to my doctor within 24 hours. Unfortunately, the test was on Friday, and the 24 hours mentioned were "business hours". Saturday wasn't bad, but I didn't sleep well last night and I woke up early this morning definitely out-of-sorts. Plus, I don't know what my doctor's office hours are today so I don't know when I might hear.

It was a nice morning, and thinking to take my mind off of this, I decided to get a hair cut. My barber opens at 8:00, so I drove to the middle of town and parked in the municipal lot. As I walked towards Main Street, I passed this guy in the yard of a Slovak church, pruning the trees and bushes. He was whistling away, happily.

I got to the shop, but the barber had one guy in the chair, and three others waiting already. At maybe 8:15. On a Monday morning. Ridiculous. Today, I was in no mood to wait. I turned around and headed back to my car.

As I came up towards the Slovak church again, I could hear the tree-pruner still whistling. Now, it bothered me. I looked around. No one else was out. I came up on the tree-pruner from behind with the Flasher in my hand.

Point, press, Flash.

I kept walking to the municipal lot, got in my car, and drove away. I was feeling a little better.

I needed gas, so I headed for this no-name station that I use. The gas there is usually cheaper. When I got there, there was no waiting so I pulled up on the side closest to the street, with my passenger side to the pump. I could see the attendant sitting at the desk in the office. It didn't look to be my regular guy. I got out of my car, and waited for him to come out.

And I waited.

I knew he's seen me, because we made eye contact. He was just taking his time - and wasting mine. I was not in the mood for this.

Finally, he came out, and he filled my tank.

 I got back in my car, rolling the passenger side window down. When he was finished, he bent down into my car and I paid and thanked him. He just sort of sneered at me, but that was OK because...

Point, press, Flash...

I was ready for him. He slumped down between my car and the pump. There was no one around to see, and I drove off.

I had some food shopping to do, and since I prefer the self-check-out lanes, I didn't have any more waiting to do. The day was brightening, with a nice breeze. I decided to drive to Johnson Park on the Peninsula and just gather my thoughts.

It was quiet there. Joggers passed by as I sat on a bench looking out over the bay. I felt myself calming down. I'd be able to wait for the doctor's call now.

Then I heard her.

she was sitting on one of the walls, at some distance from me, but she was talking on her phone to someone in as loud a voice as possible. I couldn't quite hear what she was saying, but it didn't matter.
The shrillness of her voice was enough to ruin this peaceful setting. I got up and headed back to my car. I detoured slightly so that I would pass her on my right.

There was no one else in this side of the park. As I passed..

Point, press, Flash..

and she tumbled backwards off the wall.

I got back in my car and headed home. I'd watch some TV, eat lunch, and maybe take a nap.

And wait for my test results.

Waiting For The Fall................

I've always liked the Fall. I like the sharpness of the morning air. I like the way the leaves go out in a blaze of glory. I like having the window open and needing a light blanket at night. Unfortunately, the last few days have been humid, and now we're in for a string of rainy days. It reminds me of when I was a kid and school would start. It always seemed rainy to me.

Doyle called yesterday. We agreed to meet for lunch today at a deli in Raritan Center.

I got up early. Earlier then usual. There was a strange feel to things, and I hadn't slept well. I didn't know what it was, but it was like an itch you can't scratch. Anyone who's spent any time in a hospital bed hooked up to monitors knows what I mean.

Rain was predicted for today, but so far it was only gray out. A humid day with a winter sky. I thought to clear my head by picking up something to eat and driving to Merrill Park. I took some bottled water, and picked up some apple strudel at ShopRite.

There was no one around as I pulled into the park. I thought there'd at least be a jogger or two, but I didn't see any. I pulled into one of the parking areas. I turned off the engine and started to open the strudel package when I noticed this guy. He was lying on one of the picnic tables, doing leg exercises.

Now, I'm all in favor of letting people do what they want, but this guy was lying on a picnic table. Where people eat. That didn't seem right to me.

I looked around. For all I could tell, we were the only 2 people in the park. I got out of my car. I held the Flasher down by my leg. I walked towards this clown.

"Excuse me." I called. He ignored me.
"You know, people eat on those tables." He still ignored me.
"Don't you think you should do that somewhere else." He stopped ignoring me.
"Fuck you.", he said, and went back to what he was doing.
I looked around. No one else.

Point, press, Flash.

I walked back to my car, got in, and drove away. He was still on the table, but I was hopeful that someone would clean it off once they found him.

I drove to Roosevelt Park. I still needed to finish my breakfast.

......................................................................................................................................................................

I met Doyle at the deli. I hadn't been there in a while, and they had changed a lot. They'd rebuilt, and were now an open-room cafeteria-style place, with a side room full of tables. You bought your food at one of three counters - depending on what you wanted- then took it in to the side room. I could see Doyle sitting at one of the tables, so I got myself a Philly Cheese Steak and an unsweetened iced tea and joined him.

"Hey, Denny. Thanks for coming. Good to see you." He was eating some kind of salad, and had a large cup of coffee on the table.
"Good to see you, too, Doyle. How're things?"
"Everything's good, Denny." He ate some salad, then wiped his mouth with a napkin. "Just thought you'd like to know how things turned out."
"How what turned out?" I said around a mouthful of steak and onions.
He smiled and drank some of his coffee.

"It's been almost 2 weeks since The Anniversary. Everything went well in New York. Yes, we had that "3 suspects" scare, but that was for controlled panic."
"Controlled panic? What're you talking about?"
"Look, Denny. We get a lot of threat chatter all the time, but when we were getting close to 9-11, it picked up. We expected that, and we wanted to add extra security, but the Mayor baulked at it. So Mr. Smith suggested that we "specify" a threat and Mr. Jones agreed. So there was a "possible threat" from 3 unknown individuals who may or may nor be coming in to the country. Whatever....it worked."

He went back to his salad.

"You mean that was all made up?"
"No...Not entirely. Believe me, there were threats. Viable threats. We stopped two of them, in fact. But we couldn't broadcast them. The media has given our enemies way too much information about our activities. We decided to give them something they could run with."
"Something that would give you what you want, and yet would still be partly true?"
"Exactly." He pushed his plate away, and had some more coffee. " And it did what we hoped. Mr. Jones got the credit and has been put in charge of the entire East Coast."
"So, now Smith will do, what..?"
He grinned. "Mr. Smith stays with the People Upstairs, only now there are only 5 members so they have to wait until a sixth can be appointed."
"And that means..what?"
"Nothing new can be started. In fact, the only thing we have to do now is wrap up some loose ends."
"Does that include me?"
"No. Although, to be honest, I don't know what Mr. Smith wants to do with The Project. But I do know that he likes you and what you've done."

He paused, finished his coffee, then looked right at me.
"The only loose end we have, Denny, is the guy you call Del. Our Delaware subject. We need to find him, and contain him."
"What do you mean by 'contain' him?"
"Look, Denny...we made a mistake with Del. He's...crazy. We have Events of his that stretch from Delaware to South Jersey. Fifteen. All within the six month."
"I didn't read anything about those."

He laughed. "Come on, Denny. Have you ever seen anything about your Events in the paper? Of course not. We make sure of that."
"Well..I thought you couldn't track him, that he slipped off your radar some how. How do you know he's involved at all?"
"True. Some how or other, he's made himself invisible to us. But he can't mask the signal the Flasher gives off when it's used. Believe me, he's involved."

I had to agree.
"OK. So..what happens now?"
He put his leftovers on his tray. "You wait. And you continue to do whatever you want. We track down and control Del. They add a member to the People Upstairs. We go from there."

He stood up, with his tray in his hands.

"Enjoy your lunch, Denny."

He left.

I pushed my sandwich aside. It was cold.

Given Enough Time................

Doyle called. Surprising, since I haven't expected to get called by anyone from DHS, least of all Doyle. We agreed to meet this morning at The Raconteur in Metuchen.

I like Metuchen. It's a small, quiet township that for some reason sits right inside the borders of Edison Township. I like to think of it as an example of small town America, although decidedly upscale. It's quaint. It's clean. And I like to think that it doesn't suffer from the problems that other urban areas experience.

It's Main Street shopping area runs for about 3 blocks south from the train station, and has an assortment of small, niche shops such as outdoor cafes and a tobacconist.  It also has it's share of For Rent space but, considering the economy, not much. The Raconteur is a used book store - although they probably refer to it as a "pre-owned books" shop.

Doyle had said he'd meet me in the back at 11:00, but I got there early to look around. Like any used book store, they have a varied selection of hard covers and paperbacks, sorted into genres such as Mystery, History, etc. I'm guessing that they try to keep each category sorted alphabetically by author, but they only have so much space and a lot of books are just piled up near where they should go.

While I was waiting for Doyle, I actually found a copy of "At The Earth's Core" by Edgar Rice Burroughs.

The back of the store has a few wooden chairs, and is devoted to Children and Young Adult books.

While I was browsing through some of these, Doyle came through the back door.

"Denny, How's it goin'?" We shook hands. He looked the same as always. Dark suit and tie, white shirt. Government issue.
"Doyle. Good to see you. I didn't expect to hear from you again. What brings you back?"
"Just passing through on my way to New York. Thought I'd stop by to see you. After all, it's kind of an anniversary for us. Two years, buddy, since I got you into this."
I had forgotten. Or blocked it out. Whichever.
"Really? And you stopped to see me? I'm touched."
He grinned.
"Don't make a big deal out of it. Like I said, I'm on my way to New York. I'll be working security for the 9/11 celebrations."
"Yeah? Wow. That must be a plum assignment. Smith must be happy to have that."

He shook his head. "Mr. Jones is in charge of the New York coverage. In fact, Mr. Smith didn't want it."
"What? Why not?"
"Politics, Denny. Mr. Jones has always been about getting noticed, getting ahead. Mr. Smith doesn't care about those things. He's more concerned with results."
"So how does this involve politics?"
"Mr. Smith figures that if Mr. Jones does well here, he'll be fast-tracked, if not, he'll be sunk. Either way, he's out of the picture."
I had to admit it made a kind of sense.

"Anyway, Denny, I also wanted you to know not to worry about our Delaware subject - you called him Del, didn't you? Ha! Funny. Anyway, we're pretty sure that those notes he left for you were to get our attention since it looks like he's contacted us directly."
"How so?" We had been standing, but now took a couple of the chairs.
"Everyone in the DHS offices from D. C. to Boston received the same email yesterday. It contained a YouTube link to a 32 second video posted on September 3, 2006, of a ticking clock."
"For real? A ticking Clock?"
"Yep. Posted originally by a site called ratherboringvideos, one word."
"How do you know it was Del?"
"Well, we don't know for sure, but it appears to have come from the Vice President's office."
"The Vice President? As in "of the United States"?"
"That's the one. And since he used to be a senator from Delaware, well, you can see how we jumped to our conclusion."
"What do you think it means?"

He paused, thinking of the best way to answer that.
"To me, the only way to interpret it is that time is running out. For whom? How long? Why? I don't know. Other people smarter then me are working on that. Me? I gotta get to New York. Just thought that, since I was passing by and all, I'd stop by. You know?"

I knew.

We stood, shook again, and - grinning - Doyle left through the back.

I sat there for a while, thinking about the whole thing. I had this feeling that they weren't looking at it the right way. To a transplant recipient - like me, like Del - a ticking clock doesn't necessarily mean that time is running out. It means that it's still ticking..that there's still time to do something. But what?

I ran outside to try and catch Doyle. To tell him this.

The back door leads to a municipal parking lot, and there was no sign of Doyle. He probably had a driver waiting.

Del was planning something. I only hoped that Doyle's people figured it out. In time.

I went back inside. I still had to pay for my book.

Summer Days..............

I live in a first floor apartment in a 3-story building on a very busy street in Woodbridge. Woodbridge is a city - not on the same scale as Newark or New York, but you wouldn't know it from the traffic that passes by my building on a daily basis. Oh.. did I mention that my bedroom faces this busy street? During the seasons when I can keep the windows closed, it's not too bad, but even I have to open them during the summer.

Actually, at night, the traffic noise is minimal, so sleeping isn't a problem. The mornings, however, can be a different story. That's why I usually jump at the chance to house-sit for my friend in Avenel whenever she goes away. That's where I was for about a week and a half, just getting home this past Wednesday.

Avenel is part of Woodbridge, but it's more like a suburb, predominantly private houses. It's a quiet, residential area. For the most part, the only noise you get in the morning is bird-song, and at night it's crickets. For the most part. There's a new neighbor who is out early almost every day, with some sort of noisy, annoying gardening machine. A mower, an edger, a weed whacker, whatever. Every other day, at least. And early! 7:00 A. M. early!

Of course, I didn't say or do anything, since I didn't want to cause my friend a problem.

Like I said, I got home Wednesday, and did sleep well that night. As I was getting up Thursday morning I heard a series of noises outside. Apparently, the business across the street has hired a landscaper who showed up bright and early.

I do admit that they weren't as early as that neighbor guy in Avenel, but 8:00 is still early. It annoyed me so I looked it up, and the local ordinance allows them to be there that early.

Needless to say, I went out that morning feeling a little put out. And I drove up to and around Avenel for a while hoping to see the neighbor. I thought, fleetingly, of whether Del might be following me, buy I put him out of my mind. He hasn't actually done anything to me. Just left some stuff in my mailbox. I'm guessing Craig was right, and he was just sending a message. It didn't matter anyway since that neighbor wasn't out.

This morning, I woke to no loud noises, just the usual sounds of traffic. I took a ride towards the Main Library, but realized that they were on summer hours and wouldn't open until 10:00. I drove passed the back of the high school and saw a U-Haul in the parking lot. The driver was standing in the doorway of the cab.

 I made sure my windows were down, and the Flasher was ready. There was no one else around.

I slowed as I got closer. The driver never looked back, apparently concentrating on whatever he was doing. I closed in.

Point, press, Flash.

I kept driving as he sagged into the cab. I followed some back streets, exited to Rahway, and headed for Avenel.

The neighbor was out, working the curbside.

I pulled to the curb just passed him and got out. He didn't even look up. I stood there watching him for a few minutes, and checking the neighborhood. Like I said, it's quiet here. That worked to my advantage. I walked up to him and..

Point, press, Flesh.

He slid down the length of the edger as I got back in my car and drove away.

I could still hear it whirring when I turned the corner.

Just Because You're Paranoid..............

It's been over 2 weeks since I spoke with Craig. Over 2 weeks since I've gotten anything besides mail in my mailbox. Over 2 weeks since paranoia kicked in - big time.

When I thought that it was Jones' people leaving me the messages, I wasn't really worried. After all, they were government people - they worked for DHS just like Craig, Doyle, Smith, etc. They just didn't agree with what we were doing with The Project.

 But, of course, it couldn't be them. They'd all been reassigned. There were top-priorities
now, involving real risks and needing experienced field operatives. There was no one to spare to follow me around.

So who did that leave?

According to Craig, the answer was - the subject from Delaware. The one chosen by Jones to participate in The Project. The one who they lost track of - even though he had an implanted tracker similar to mine. The one that Doyle said was probably a psychopath. Craig thought the subject - let's call him "Del", since it's easier - was probably using me to send DHS a message. Del was letting them know he was here, by following me around and commenting on my activities.

Oh Good...being followed around by a psycho. Paranoid much?

I go out every day - rain or shine, hot or cold. Something I've done ever since I recovered from the transplant. I used to enjoy it. Now...not so much. Driving around, I find myself watching the mirrors more intently. Looking over me shoulders everywhere I went. All the fun was gone.

I'd finally had enough yesterday. I was heading towards the Menlo Park Mall.

I started to think,  "Am I being followed now? Is he in the car directly behind me? Or in that white one?"

I couldn't even enjoy browsing at Barnes & Nobles. I found myself staring out the 2nd floor window at the parking lot.

Thinking, "Is h out there? Waiting for me? Is he here?"

"Is he one of these guys?"

I had it bad. And I knew that I had to get passed it.

I went home, left the TV off, and read through these entries from the beginning.

It was therapeutic. I remembered why I continued to do what I did, even though there was no insistence on it. I enjoyed it. And, after all, what did it matter if someone was watching me? He hadn't turned me in. He hadn't taken me out. If there's one thing I've learned it's that there's no sense worrying about something you have no control over. I would just start varying my routine more.

I went to bed and slept well. Until I was rudely awakened.

They've been working on the street outside my apartment. On one level, I understand it. They're putting in those handicap access corners on all the blocks around me, and they do the work early because it's been very hot. But...it's been too early in the morning for that much noise.

I couldn't sleep any longer so after my usual morning routine, I left my apartment to pick up some stuff. I drove to the next corner and found one of the workers replacing the street sign.

He wasn't paying any attention to me, so I just sat there watching him...and looking around. We were the only one's about. When he got down on his knees to work on the base, I took one more look around. Still no one.

Point, press, Flash.

I drove away, glancing in the rear view as he and the sign sagged to the right.

 Let's see what Del does with that, I thought.

I spent the next few hours picking up some food, having breakfast, and making my 6 month doctor's appointment. I was heading home when I decided to arbitrarily turn off Woodbridge Avenue into a development I'd never driven through before. I figured to go a few blocks, make a left, a few blocks, then another left, and I'd wind up back on Woodbridge. It was pretty quiet there. No one around, no other cars moving, until I saw him.

He seemed to be picking weeds out of his lawn. I drove completely around the block and approached him again, slowly. We were the only one's around.

Point, press, Flash.

I looked back when I reached the corner, and saw him lying there. I made my left and headed home.

I was feeling better about things, but I waited until late in the afternoon to check my mail. Nothing in the box.

Strangely, I felt a little disappointed.

Crazy Days of Summer.....

We're into July now, so the year's half over. My family has had a run of ceremonies so far that you might expect from an Irish Catholic clan. Personally, I've passed the 2 1/2 year mark for the transplant, and I'm coming up on my 60th birthday. All in all, everything is good.

We've had a great run of weather this last week and yesterday I decided to drive down to Monmouth County. My car has air conditioning, but I prefer what an old friend of mine used to call "260 AC" - 2 windows, 60 miles an hour. The radio doesn't work, but I have a small, portable one with ear buds and I found a station with some old rock, driving music.  Moving along and feeling good.

I stopped for breakfast in Hazlet, at a Perkins. I know, there's one near where I live, but I used to take my daughter here when we lived nearby. Good times.

I drove down Route 35 for a while just enjoying the day. When I decided to head home, I found myself passing Middletown, so I stopped at their library. I hadn't been here in a while. I noticed that the parking lot was relatively empty, but that may be because it was the Friday prior to the Fourth of July weekend.

You enter through an automatic door into a vestibule, then there's another automatic door into the library. To the left of the vestibule are the rest rooms and meeting rooms. To the right is a small alcove with a window. Seated in the window was an older man playing with his cell phone.

I entered the library and browsed the selection of books-for-sale that they have there. When I came out, I noticed that the guy was still sitting in the window. I turned in to the rest room area and watched him for a few minutes. I noticed that he had his phone plugged into the wall. This seemed odd to me. I keep a charger in the car but it uses the lighter. I never carry my home charger.

 No one came in or out while I was watching. I took out the Flasher. I hadn't used it since I'd gotten that weird note in the mail but now I had the itch.

I walked outside, waited a bit, then walked back in. No one else was around. I waited again near the rest rooms, but no one passed and the guy never looked up from his phone. Must've been browsing some web sites.

I stepped out, looking around. I could see the library desk through the doors, and there was no one there. I walked quickly toward the guy. Looked around again, then..

point, press, Flash..

and I exited the library. I walked back to my car, and sat there for about 10 minutes. No one came running out.

I headed home. Still feeling good.

I grabbed my mail on the way in. It looked like the usual assortment of ads, maybe with some extras due to the holiday. I was mistaken. When I sorted through it, I found brochures from the Middletown Library.

The same day!

I was getting worried. I sent a picture and a text to my contact number. I wanted to speak to someone right away.

About 20 minutes later, I got a message. Craig would meet me in the morning.

......................................................................................................................................................................

I drove over to the Menlo Park Mall early. I had agreed to meet Craig there at 8:30 in the Food Court, way before the stores opened. At that time, there shouldn't be many people about. Even the food shops don't open till 9.

I took the escalator up to the second floor and saw that Craig was there already. It looked like he was the only one there.

I took the seat across from him.
"Thanks for coming, Craig."
"No problem, Mr. O'Neill. It's my day off and I had no other plans."
"I didn't mean to ruin your day off.."
"It's OK. It would've been hard to work something out if I was on duty." He paused. "I understand You've been getting some threatening mail?" It sounded like a question.
"Not threatening, exactly, just..I don't know..strange."
"I heard about the Penney's note, and now you've gotten something else, right?"
I filled him in on everything - the Events at Penney's and the Middletown Library and the stuff I'd found in my mailbox both times.

"Look," I said, "Here's the stuff I got..the calendar note and the brochures. Maybe you can have someone look at them. I don't know..fingerprints, maybe." I handed him a plastic bag. "Mine are obviously on there. My fingerprints, I mean."
"I understand, Mr. O'Neill, but I can't promise anything. The project is off the table for now, so I'm going to have to have these tested on the sly. Fortunately, there are some agents that still feel they should thank you for the Givings situation." He chuckled, then went on. "I have to tell you that Mr. Jones and all of his associates - at least the ones we know about - are all accounted for. Since the Bin Laden kill, and with the 9/11 Anniversary coming up, the whole Department is on high alert. In fact, Mr. Jones is in Washington with Mr. Smith and the rest of the People Upstairs, and so is Agent Doyle."
"So, you're saying that we should rule them out?"
"At least for now, I would think."
"Then who does that leave?"

There was an awkward pause. I looked across at him, and he looked down at the plastic bad I'd given him. Finally, he looked up.

"Agent Doyle has a theory, though there isn't any proof."
"What is it?"
"What?"
"You know, the subject of our.."
"I know who you mean..I ..How? How does he know who I am? Where I live? What I look like?"

Another pause.

:We don't know. Agent Doyle theorizes that since the subject was chosen by Mr. Jones, that it's possible that Mr. Jones provided that information....We just don't know."
"What am I supposed to do?"
"Nothing. Agent Doyle believes that if he meant to harm you, he would have done so already. We think he's just having fun. That he's letting us know that he's still out there by toying with you. It makes some sort of sense."
"So, you're saying I have nothing to worry about?"
"No. Well, at least not right now. But you do need to be very attentive to where you are and who's around you. We will try to get you some information on the subject - background, a picture, something - but all of the Project files have been reclassified and locked down. It won't be easy."

"Can you at least tell me what he looks like?"
"Not from personal experience. Agent Doyle says he's an average person - average height, weight, etc. - that he blends in. Sort of like you."
Oh great. I just need to watch out for someone I wouldn't even notice. Just great."
It's the best we can do for now, Mr. O'Neill. I'll pass this on to Agent Doyle, and will be back in touch when I have some information."

He stood, and put out his hand. I shook it.

"Have a good weekend, Mr. O'Neill."

Oh, sure.

What the.............

Recently, I've been thinking of driving up to New Providence. There's a place up there that I wanted to check out. Now, I don't have one of those GPS things - I don't like driving outside my comfort zone - so I found the website for the place I was interested in and wrote down the directions. These were from Google, and had a lot of "slight left turn" steps, so I also used MapQuest for directions, which seemed simpler.

Yesterday started out overcast, but by the time I'd made a few stops it had brightened up. I decided to make the drive right then. Both sets of directions start by me taking Lake to Martine to Park, with a few of those "slight left turns". Neither set of directions mentioned that what I thought would be 3 separate roads were actually 1 road with a few curves. It took me a while to figure out that the different towns I passed through renamed their sections of the road.

When I got to Scotch Plains, I had a problem. Google said to take a road which I couldn't find because it had no street sign, and MapQuest left that turn off it's instructions completely. I did figure it out after a few false moves that kept bringing me back to Route 22 (one of the worst roads in New Jersey), but there was construction and a huge back-up in the middle of the turn. I took this as a sign, and turned around and went home.

Like most people, I check my mailbox when I get home. The mail is usually delivered between 10:00 and 2:00.Yesterday, I got home about 11:30 and saw that the mailman was just getting out of his little truck down on the next corner, so I just went inside.

This morning, since the forecast was for rain, I ran a few errands, and was back about 10:30. I checked my mailbox and found one small, plain, white envelope.

It was completely blank and unsealed. No postmark, not stamp, no address of any kind. Inside was a page from one of those day-per-page type calendars. On the back of the page was written..

J. C. PENNEY'S!?!

 INTERESTING.

... in printed, capital letters.

 

The page was from the weekend and could've been in the mailbox since yesterday. Hell, it could've been there since late Saturday.

I had no idea what this meant, or who it was from. My only guess was that someone from DHS was letting me know that they were still keeping tabs on me. I took pictures, texted them to my contact number, and left a message.

About 20 minutes later, I got a response.

They hadn't sent it.

So now I have to wonder..if they didn't do this then who?

And, why?

On Account of Rain............

Like they say...the best laid plans. We had kind of a heat wave this week so, when the rain passed through yesterday and cooled things off, I thought I'd enjoy a nice ride down to Monmouth County today. I stopped at the local ShopRite first, to see if I could pick up something that I could eat in the car on the way down.

They didn't have anything that appealed to me, so I decided that I'd eat when I got down there. I was no sooner back in the car then it started to rain. I've noticed that the front and passenger side windows leak a little in the rain and this has caused some problems with the electrical system, so I decided to postpone the trip south. I was still hungry, however, and decided to go to the IHOP over by the Menlo Park Mall.

 I had gotten as far as the MetroPark Train Station when the rain intensified. It got so heavy that I had trouble seeing through the windows, so I pulled into the nearest parking lot. When the rain eased up after about 10 minutes or so, I turned around. I ended up having breakfast at the Denny's in Avenel.

It was still early when I finished - around 9:30 or so - and the rain had slowed to a drizzle. I decided to walk off some of the omelet I'd eaten and headed for the Woodbridge Center Mall to get the exercise while staying dry.

The stores, for the most part, wouldn't open for about 20 minutes, but I could see the workers setting up - at the open food counters, or through the shop windows. I wondered around watching them, conscious of where I was in relation to them, and aware of the customers who were starting to trickle in. There was this one guy I saw at the Nestle's Toll House shop on the 2nd level that piqued my interest.

 I hadn't staged an Event anywhere in or near Woodbridge Center in a while, and here was a convenient target. As I got closer, I noticed that he might be too convenient. Both the up and down escalators were close by, as was the entrance to J. C. Penney's. There was no reason to be taking chances.

I took the escalator down, and actually went into Penney's. I had bought something here for my son-in-law for Christmas which went over big, so every now and then I go back to see if they have anything else. The section I headed for was way in the back.

There were fewer people then I expected in the mall, maybe because it was early or maybe due to the rain. It didn't matter. The section I went towards was almost empty. Empty except for this guy.

 Why he was looking at sun glasses on a rainy Saturday morning, I have no idea. Maybe they were on sale. I walked steadily into the section, and circled behind the racks of sun glasses. I started looking around. There was no one else here. Not even sales people. I came up towards the rack of belts to Sun Glass Guy's left. I had a good view of him, and the surrounding area. I also had the Flasher out.

He paid no attention to me. I stood there - pretending to look at the belts - for about 10 minutes. No one else entered the area. And he kept trying on glasses. As he got to the lower part of the rack, I moved around behind him. Still no one else.

When he got to the lowest level, he was squatting. I got close, then..

Point, press, Flash.

He sagged, and I moved out of the section. As I'd hoped, the lights on the racks of sun glasses helped to dissipate the flash. No one went in that section. I walked into the Men's Section nearby, watching, listening. there was no commotion. I went out into the mall, and headed back towards where I'd come in, taking my time, window-shopping. No screaming. No running. No security people.

I exited the mall and got into my car. It was still drizzling.

Not what I had planned, but you have to be flexible.

Arc 5

I Gotta Be Me...........

It's rained, on and off - and pretty heavy at times - almost every day since I last met with Doyle. Kinda suited my mood, since I had a lot of stuff to sort out .First and foremost was the heightened alert level at DHS. As Doyle had explained it, since the Bin Laden kill every able-bodied field agent was being reassigned to proactive roles. Even the People Upstairs would be occupied. This meant that the "The Project" has sorta fallen between the cracks.

It didn't bother me that there would be no one watching my back since Jones and his crew would be off the table too. It didn't bother me that there would be no money coming in from that source, since I'd never touched any of it anyway. It didn't bother me that the test subject from Delaware was on the loose, since I didn't think he knew exactly who or where I was. What I kept coming back to was why had they let me keep the Flasher?
I've come to the conclusion that Smith wants me to continue. I'm also pretty sure that they'll bail me out of any trouble I may get into - legally speaking - because they wouldn't want the Flasher to become known. At least I hope so.

Two days ago, the weather changed. The sun came on strong and the temperatures soared. That can certainly improve one's mood.

I was up early this morning, so I took a ride to the Barnes & Noble store by the Menlo Park Mall and got there just after they opened. I was looking for something specific, and I always start on the 2nd floor. I used one of their terminals to find the section I would need, and then headed down towards the back of the store. I glanced down one of the rows and noticed this older man sitting in one of the chairs by the windows.

Now, I had been to this store Wednesday - just killing time - and seen this guy in the same chair, probably wearing the same clothes, eating the same breakfast, and reading the same book. This is something that - I have to admit - ticks me off. If you want to sit around and read a book without buying it, go to a library. That book he's so callously dropping crumbs in (and probably drippings from his Dunkin' Donut Iced Coffee) will probably wind up back on the shelf for some unsuspecting shopper. Man..I hate that.

I moved into the next row of books - part of the Science Fiction section, and browsed my way towards the window. I had the Flasher in my right hand. I don't usually use that hand, but it was better logistically and my body should block most of the flash from being seen.

I looked around a bit but. like I'd said, it was early so the store wasn't crowded.

I got to the end of the row, then...

point, press, Flash.

He slumped a little as I turned around, exited the row, and walked down to where the book I was looking for would be located. I found it alright, but no longer had any interest in it. From that section, I could see most of the window-side. No one  seemed to take any notice of the old man. I went down to the first floor, exited through the side door, and entered the mall itself. I walked up and down the length of it, taking my time, then went back to Barnes & Noble.

No cell phone confirmation, but also no activity, no emergency service vehicles, no police. I browsed around a little on the first floor, checking out the sale books, and left through the main entrance.

I drove down to Roosevelt Park, just a few blocks away off Parsonage Road, and pulled into the first parking lot I found. I lowered the windows, turned off the car, and just watched the people.

They were walking, jogging, riding bikes, or just sitting. Parents or grandparents watching the kids play. They were out on a sunny, warm, pre-summer morning doing just what they wanted to do.

Just like me.

Hiatus.....

Doyle called. We agreed to meet at the Woodbridge Veteran's Memorial, between the Main Library and the High School. It was early when I got there. The school lot had cars already, so I parked by the library and walked down the hill. It's peaceful there.

I sat on one of the benches, and waited for Doyle. It didn't take long. He came walking up from the school lot.

"Hiya, Denny? How're you doin'?" He was dressed in his best "Men in Black" suit, and he unbuttoned the jacket before he sat down next to me.
"About as well as a sociopath can, I guess."
"Ouch...Look..I deserve that. I didn't explain that too well. You gotta understand that it's a good thing. Everyone I know in this business - everyone good, that is - is a sociopath, in some degree. It's the only way we can do this work. You have to be able to detach."
"Really? You're telling me that you're a sociopath, too?" I smirked at him.
"Denny, I'm some kinda 'path. The shrinks just don't know quite how to classify me. And you, my friend, are a "neo-sociopath". You came to this anti-social attitude later in life, so you maintain control better."
"Gee..I feel so much better." But I'd actually accepted it. I was just giving Doyle a hard time.
He shook his head.

"Anyway, that's not why I asked you to meet me." He looked around. "This is a memorial to the veteran's from Woodbridge who died in wars going back to World War I. Did you know that?"
I didn't answer, since it was pretty obvious from the different memorials. He was leading up to something. I waited him out.

"We're at war, Denny. Have been since 9-11. And with the Bin Laden kill last week, it's only gonna get worse."
"Yeah, I guess so. We'll just have to be extra-vigilant for a while."
"No. Not for a while. For a long time. My people are on high alert, and that's where you come in."
"What? You want me to guard something? I'm not really trained for anything security-related, you know?"
He chuckled. "No. Thanks for the offer, though." He paused....
"Every field agent assignment in DHS is being re-evaluated. Every operation is being re-assessed. Since this operation never got out of the Project phase, it's gonna be scrubbed. Sorry, Denny."
My turn to pause.
"Wow..I guess I never thought that this could happen...I understand, though.." I took the Flasher out of my pocket, and held it out to him.

He pushed it back towards me.
"You don't really understand, kid. What I mean is that we have to pull the teams that trail you, and have been covering you 24/7. We'll also be shutting down the phone numbers you're familiar with. We can't justify them."
I was confused. He continued.
"We will still be monitoring the implant, since we can "hide" it among all the other field agents, but for all intents and purposes you'll be on your own."
"Really? What am I supposed to do now?"
"Mr. Smith still has faith in the Project, but it will really be up to you. You'll have no backup, and we still don't  know what Mr. Jones might do." He gestured towards the Flasher that I still held out in front of me. "Put that away. You might need it, and I wouldn't feel right leaving you without some way to protect yourself, though I have to remind you that it won't work against field agents. What you decide to do with it will be up to you."

I put the Flasher back in my pocket.
"What happens to you, Doyle?"
"I can't tell you, Denny. Even if I wanted to." He grinned. "You know, the "I'd have to kill you" joke."
 He took something out of his inside pocket. A business card. He gave it to me. It was for an attorney.
"If you have any questions in the future , call the number on this card. He's worked with us in the past, and he'll contact us, if necessary. If you get in any trouble because of the Flasher, definitely call him."
He stood up.
"that's all I can do for you now, Denny. I hate to leave things like this, but I don't have a choice."
He stuck out his hand. I shook it. He smiled, nodded, and turned away.

He said nothing as he walked back down the hill.

There was nothing left to say.

 To See Oursel's As Others See Us.....

Doyle called. We agreed to meet early this morning at Alvin Williams Park on the Sewaren Peninsula in Woodbridge. It's a nice, quiet place that early in the morning since it's kinda out of the way. We were to meet in the covered structure closest to the Arthur Kill.

I got there first, or thought I did. I was looking out over the Kill when he came up behind me.
"Just so you know, I've been here about a half an hour, checking out the area, and watching that no one followed you in. How you doin', Denny?" He was grinning. He was dressed casually, but looked liked he'd lost weight.
"I'm good, but I'm sure you know that." We shook hands, and sat on one of the benches, our backs to the Kill.
"Well, we know how you are physically, but I'm talking mentally? You doin' OK?"
"I'm good, Doyle. Really. I know I've been under some stress recently, but it's all over."
"We know about your attempts to contact you local politicians to get some kind of statement for Donate Life Month, and that you haven't been too successful. I gotta admit, we had some concerns, but we didn't do anything because you didn't do anything. Know what I mean?"
"Yeah, I guess so. I didn't run crazy with the Flasher, right?" He looked relieved.
"Right. So now we can talk about some other things." He stood up, and looked out over the Kill and I joined him.

"God, I love the water." Hr said. "It's always had a calming effect on me."
Oh? Do you need to be calm right now?"
"No," He smirked, "Just making an observation.....I'm coming back from Delaware."
Just like that.

"When? Did you resolve the situation down there? I mean, Craig's a good guy, but I am more comfortable dealing with you."
"To answer your questions in order...effective immediately, and No. The situation remains unresolved, but we don't think it's in Delaware any more."
"What? I thought that you were down there to recreate this project. I remember, at first, you sounded optimistic. What happened?"
He paused for a long time.

He stood up straight, stretching his back, then looked right at me.
"Denny, do you know the difference between a psychopath and a sociopath?"
"What?...No...Why? Are you kidding me?"
"No, I'm dead serious, and I didn't really expect you to know." He paused again, and looked around.

"Our shrinks say that it comes down to "Nature versus Nurture". A psychopath is born that way, but a sociopath develops over time, based on how he's brought up. In either case, they are anti-social people, usually with no regard for rules, although they fit in well. And the psychopath tends towards flamboyance and criminality."
"And this has to do with me, how? Are you telling me that I'm one of those?"
"Yes and no. When we started this project, after you'd already gotten Jimmy's heart, our shrinks evaluated you and came up with a variation. They classified you as a "neo-sociopath". Someone who developed the same anti-social tendencies due to current economic/social/political changes and how they affected you."
"And that was OK with them? They didn't think it would be...oh, I don't know...a drawback or something?" I forgot that sarcasm was sometimes lost on Doyle.
"Not at all. In fact, they thought it would be a beneficial trait, and it certainly seems to have been proven to be. You've done very well with things."
This time, I paused. I walked away a little, trying to get angry with this, but I couldn't find a real reason. After all, I knew what I was doing. I turned back to Doyle.

"And you're telling me this because.......?"
"It didn't work so well in Delaware. You see, Mr. Smith brought in the psych people that evaluated you. Mr. Jones demanded that he be allowed to bring his own people in for the Delaware project. Unfortunately, we didn't know then how badly Mr. Jones' choices would work out."

He didn't need to spell it out. I'd stepped all over Jones' toes with the whole Givings mess.

"So you're saying that Jones' people didn't vet out the Delaware subject properly?"
"No. They did not. In fact, our people now think that the subject was a closeted psychopath waiting for a trigger, and we gave it to him."
"Shit. Really? But,.. wait...you can track him, right?" I had a bad feeling about this.
He took a deep breath, and let it out slowly.
"We lost him. He'd been going on and off our tracking screens for a while, and we thought it was a system's glitch. Now he's just gone, and we don't know how."
"Jeez, Doyle. What do you do now?"
"We wait. And we watch. He was getting sloppy with his Events, but he only has a Type 2 Flasher, so he can't do too much damage in one day. We're on alert. We'll get him."
"OK. So what happens now?"
"In the meantime, I'm back here. We'll continue business as usual. And I'll be working with Mr. Smith to try to do something about the Mr. Jones situation."

He looked at his watch, and turned towards the parking lot. I couldn't think of anything to say. I certainly didn't want to know anything about the Jones situation.

"Take care of yourself, Denny. I'll be in touch."
"You too, Doyle."

He drove away. I stayed in the park, walking around a little, trying to come to grips with things. That's when I saw the lone jogger.

He was on the path that circled the park, and I noticed a large, bushy area up ahead of him, covering the path. I moved diagonally to intercept, the Flasher in my hand. There was no one anywhere near us. We both closed on the bushes. He had headphones on, and his head slightly down watching the path. He didn't see me coming.

Point, press Flash.

He dropped, and I went back to my car, and left the park. I still didn't see anyone around. I drove out of the area, towards Edison. My phone sounded. Confirmed.

I drove out through Avenel, and into Colonia. Along Chain of Hills road, I saw another, single jogger on my right. I slowed, lowering the passenger-side window. Again, the jogger had on headphones and didn't hear me coming. There wasn't another person or car in sight. I came up along side of her.

Point, press, Flash.

I drove on as she slumped to the ground. By the time I got to the Menlo Park Mall, I'd gotten the second confirmation.

It was still pretty early. The only store open was the Barnes & Noble's, and I didn't feel like browsing. As I circled the lot to drive out, I saw this guy doing something in his trunk. I checked my mirrors. No one in sight. I slowed as I passed him, my window still down, and...

Point, press, Flash.

He drooped forward into the trunk. It had brightened up considerably, and I figured that the Flash would be thought to be a reflection, or glare. I headed for home.

Confirm number 3.

I knew what they thought of me, and it didn't matter. I was feeling good. I still did what I did. I knew who I was better then they did, and I was pretty sure, if the time ever came, that I could use that to my advantage.

I guess Robert Burns was right...

"Oh wad some power the giftie gie us...."

When It Rains...............

I have a routine that I go through every morning. Like most people - I suppose - I go to the bathroom first. Then I feed the cat; check the indoor/outdoor thermometer in the living room window (and look out to see what's what); and finally, check my weight, blood pressure, pulse, and temperature (text them to certain people), and take my morning meds. Simple. This morning, when I looked out the living room window, there were 2 police cars parked outside - one on each side of the street - and one right behind my car!

"They're on to me!", I thought.

Then I got a hold of myself. I hadn't done anything in a couple of weeks. And Doyle had told me they'd take care of me. I had nothing to worry about, right?

I sat on the arm of the love seat, slightly back from the window, and watched. Maybe 5 minutes went by before they got out, meeting on my side. They paid no attention to my car, just headed for the corner. Since mine is the corner apartment, I watched them cross past my bedroom window, and enter my building.

I heard them in the vestibule. At the buzzers. They rang one.

It wasn't mine.

They got buzzed back and, using the peephole in my front door, I watched them go upstairs. I decided to check my emails before I took my blood pressure.

When I'd finished up everything, and was about to go out for the morning, I checked the living room window again. The police car across the street was just leaving.

By the time I got outside, they were both gone. Relief. I was still out here. I could still do what I'd been doing. Even though it was threatening rain, I decided to drive around some of the back streets in the nearby areas and see what I could find.

Many of the nearby areas in Avenel, Rahway, Colonia, Edison, and Metuchen are residential. Some of them are down-right suburban. I started in Avenel, but on my side of Route 1.

I turned off into the first development and there, right in front of me, was someone in a brown hoodie walking in the street. I followed for a block or so, and started checking my mirrors for traffic. No one. Just the guy in the brown hoodie.

I drew closer, the Flasher in my hand. I lowered the passenger side window. One last look around. I slowed as I pulled up beside him.

Point, press, Flash.

I drove away as he sank towards the curb. I never could understand why someone would walk in the street when there was a perfectly good sidewalk right there. I headed towards Colonia. About 10 minutes later, my phone beeped. Text message. Confirm.

Colonia is pretty upscale, but there are some more typical residential areas. As I drove around in one, I saw one of those satellite installers climbing a ladder toward a roof. Piqued my interest. I slowed. He was on the roof now.

I drove past, and pulled to the curb, watching through my back window. He was moving around pretty freely up there. I checked my mirrors, then got out of the car. I walked back towards the installer. Still looking around. No one. Nothing moving except the satellite guy.

Point, press, Flash.

He sagged down at an angle as I walked back to my car and started it up. In the rear view mirror, I saw him slide down towards the roof's edge. I drove away, thinking on heading towards Edison. As I passed the Metro Park Train Station my phone beeped again. Confirm #2.

I drove into the park behind the mall, thinking I might come upon a jogger. No such luck. The weather may have been too damp. But I did find a park worker weeding around a tree. I stopped across from him, but he seemed not to notice me.

 I looked around. The park was empty as far as I could tell. He worked his way around the tree. As he came to the right side, and back into my line of vision, I was ready.

Point, press, Flash.

He slid down behind the tree, and I drove away. Metuchen was nearby.

Metuchen is like a quaint little town surrounded by small, suburban neighborhoods. As I entered one of them, my phone beeped. Confirm #3. I drove around slowly, conscious the whole time of how to get back to the major through-roads. Suddenly, I saw a woman power-walking towards me. I pulled over and parked. Taking out my phone, I pretended to check messages and make a call. She got nearer.

 I checked my mirrors, my windows. No one else.

Point, press, Flash.

I started the car and drove away. I didn't see what happened to the walker.

As I reentered Edison, two things happened.

One, it started to rain, heavily.

Two, my phone rang. It was Craig. He wanted to meet. Since I was close to Route 27, and was going to stop at WalMart anyway, we agreed on a Dunkin' Donuts nearby.

He was sitting inside, with 2 cups of coffee, when I got there.
"Hello, Mr. O'Neill. Been busy, I see."
"Hiya, Craig. What's up?" I took the coffee he offered - I knew it would be what I would have ordered.
"First off, I can confirm your fourth Event. Congratulations. Putting the latest model to the test, huh?"
"What can I say? If it hadn't started raining so hard, I may have had more."
"That's the main reason for my call. I need to ask you not to do so many."
"What? Why?"
He drank some coffee. "We're stretched pretty thin, Mr. O'Neill. What with Agent Doyle still using personnel in Delaware. And every time you stage an Event, I have to leave at least 2 agents there to monitor the situation and clean up, if necessary. I just don't have the manpower anymore. In fact, with the satellite guy, after he slid off the roof, we just checked him out and left. Broke his neck."
"Oh. I...I didn't know." My turn to drink some coffee. "Doyle never said anything, and I guess I didn't think about it."
""It's OK, now, Mr. O'Neill, but if I have to continue to keep a 24/7 watch on you, I really can't afford to tie up too many agents. You understand, right?"
"Absolutely. No problem. I'll try not to overdo it from now on. By the way..how're things going with Doyle and Delaware?"
More coffee. "I'm afraid I don't know, and if I did, I probably couldn't tell you. But I did hear from Agent Doyle today. He said to tell you that he'd be in touch soon."
We both drank some coffee.
"Fair enough. Thanks for keeping an eye on my back, Craig. Whatever you need, please let me know."
"It's all good, Mr. O'Neill."
He stood, taking his coffee.
"Safe home and stay dry, Mr. O'Neill."
He left.
"You too, Craig." I thought.

I stayed, and finished my coffee.