Project Jade Serenity [Supers/Technothriller]

[Icelander]

Originally Posted by johndallman

"Power corrupts, and absolute power is even more fun!"

Originally Posted by tshiggins

The PCs in Facets are similarly ethically-challenged. I wonder if the sudden access to sekrit powurz just does that?

Based on experiences in many modern campaigns when the PCs didn't have any secret or supernatural abilities, though they may have encountered inexplicable things in their adventures, I'm going to go ahead and assume that it's not so much access to powers which erodes traditional morality among PCs as it is having to face threats which are outside the foundational assumptions of conventional legality and custom.

Following the law or societal mores can be actively suicidal when it means abiding by a social contract that is based on a delusion. If the world actually has mystical threats like mind control, illusions, magical disguises, artifacts which tempt their wielders into evil or even just physical beings so powerful that a police response would simply mean a massacre of defenceless humans, then acting like an ordinary, decent, law-abiding person is not only dangerous to the character, it also means allowing others to be harmed when acting otherwise might have saved them.

And, of course, PCs realising that many other people, both inside and outside of government, would want to refuse those with any supernatural abilities their basic civil rights*, is a pretty powerful motivator for acts that otherwise would be illegal and immoral. It's all too plausible to have to face a choice where either you allow a person** to be deprived of their most fundamental rights or you kill an otherwise innocent witness to a display of their supernatural powers. There isn't really a choice there that is unambigiously moral.

To sum up, if you set your campaign world up so that PCs and their reference group exist in some way outside normal society, don't be surprised when this has the effect of making them outlaws.

*This doesn't have to be because of knee-jerk prejudice. Scientific or public safety arguments can also lead inexorably to the conclusion that according human rights to beings that have extrahuman powers is simply not possible, regrettably though that may be.
**Perhaps not entirely human, but still a person.

[Icelander]

The alleged ‘cottage’ where Dr. Anderson is meant to stay seems nice enough. Master bedroom, two kids’ rooms, guest bedroom and a home office, according to what Wendell Dao tells Dr. Anderson. The living area is spacious, with sofas and lounge chairs centred on a fireplace, in addition to the dining room table. Instead of a crowd of hard faced soldiers or sailors, Anderson spots three women engaged in some task around technical equipment in there.

LCDR Wendell Dao: “I figure you’ll want a proper shower and a change of clothes before doing anything else, doc. The place has a separate water tank, tested clear. The clothes are laid out in the bathroom, just select what you like.”
Dr. Anderson: “That is thoughtful of you, Wendell.”

As the doctor moves toward the master bathroom, he encounters a rugged-looking, moustachioed man, wearing what appears to be an actual cowboy hat, khaki pants and camouflage shirt, coming out of it. The cowboy-hatted man has a rifle like ‘Mack’ and Dao tied around him, but his is larger and somehow more old-fashioned, with a wooden stock. On his right thigh, he’s wearing a Colt pistol like in ‘Saving Private Ryan’ in some kind of gunfighter’s holster. The man touches his hand to his hat and addresses Dr. Anderson in a musical out-West twang.

Cowboy: “Howdy, doc.”
Anderson: “Hello there.”
Dao: “You can call him ‘Tex’, doc. He won’t mind.”
Anderson: “A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Tex. Would you be one of Wendell’s men?”
Dao: “Let’s just say Tex is with us, but not of us, doc. A soldier, not a sailor. He’ll take all your electronics of your hands and have ‘em analysed. Try to figure out what this strange jamming was and that sort of thing.”
Anderson: “My thanks. I suspect that examination of the electronics will yield little of consequence, but I agree, naturally, that it must be carried out.”
Tex: “Happy to help y’all.”

With a polite nod, Anderson enters the bathroom. He has a long, hot, comfortable shower, working out all the minor aches in his body. He feels surprisingly fresh, energetic, even. Even the little muscle spasms and pains just feel like the after-glow of a good workout. Wasn’t it Winston Churchill who said: "Nothing in life is so exhilarating as to be shot at without result"?

When he emerges in the living area again, Dr. Anderson is dressed in slacks, blue shirt and a fairly inoffensive blazer.

Dr. Anderson: “All right, Mr. Dao. I am ready for my close-up.”

Sitting at the dining room table, Wendell Dao grins and picks up a mobile phone. To Dr. Anderson, it looks like a Silent Circle Blackphone, a supposedly more secure smartphone made by a company started by several privacy advocates, one of whom was a former Navy SEAL. Instead of making a call, Dao taps in what looks like a short message on the screen.

LCDR Dao: “I’ve asked the detectives if we can do the debriefing in the office here.”
Anderson: “Do I need a lawyer?”
Dao: “I wouldn’t figure on it. You can ask for one, for sure, and we’d find you one that could be read in on the situation, but it would probably delay things for several hours. And I assure you nobody is going to treat you like a suspect, they’ll just want your input on what happened, not to mention your professional views.”
Anderson: “That will be all right, then.”

While they wait for an answer from Onyx Rain, the curly-haired commando called ‘Mack’ brings sandwiches and coffee.

Dao: “The sandwiches are a few hours old, pre-packaged store bought stuff from the mainland. Sorry about that. The coffee should be fine. Salvatore doesn’t do fancy barista tricks, but he makes a decent cup, as long as you like it strong and black.”
Female voice from living room: “Strong ‘n’ black is just how we likes it, Skipper!”

Mack snickers and there are amused snorts from the three women in the living room. Wendell Dao grins sheepishly, but seems more amused than embarrassed or angry. Dr. Anderson is aware that the strict shibboleths of military hierarchy seem to be more loosely applied among elite special operation forces, but this level of comfort with what Anderson believes to be a fairly senior officer argues either lack of discipline or long familiarity and excellent esprit de corps. Somehow Wendell Dao doesn’t strike the doctor as likely to run an ill-disciplined unit.

The comedian is a statuesque young African-American woman wearing blueish camouflage pants and a tank top, engaged in what looks to Dr. Anderson to be the cloning of his mobile phone. She’s not wearing a bulky rifle attached to her body, but she is wearing a handgun holster on her belt with a big metal pistol.

Dao: “We’re not really unprofessional, doc, it’s just our way of coping with operational pressures.” [louder] “Don’t let your husband hear you say that, Adkins!”
Adkins: “An' why would he think I was meanin' anybody other than his proud black ass?”
Another woman: “No, but… he might suspect you no longer find him attractive, because you told me you’d been having problems and were thinking of getting a divorce, like Kendra.”

There is an appalled silence, with everyone variously either staring at the latest speaker or avoiding eye contact. The indiscreet woman is a pleasant-looking brunette dressed in civilian clothing that might be termed ‘Goth’, ‘emo’ or whatever new subculture designator applies to shoppers at Hot Topic these days. After a very uncomfortable few seconds, Adkins explodes into guffaws.

Adkins: “I did tell you that, snowflake, but you ain’t supposed to blurt out everything you hear. How did you ever get a security clearance, honey?”
‘Snowflake’: “I signed lots of paperwork and then answered questions about my personal life.”
Adkins [to third woman]: “Is she fo’ real, ell-tee? I can’t tell with her.”
LT: “I’m pretty sure Ms. Melody is pulling your leg, Adkins.”
Melody Luna: “It’s just Melody. My last name is ‘Luna’, only they tell you to use just your first name with people outside the unit for security purposes.”
LT: “Good job on that, by the way.”
Melody: “Oh. But you aren’t, I mean… you’re under the Joint Special Operations Command too.”
LT: “It’s a good thing Dr. Anderson used to have a TS-SCI clearance, which is being reactivated, and has been read in on Onyx Rain, Melody. Doesn’t your boss ever explain to you that you might end up in prison for being indiscreet with classified information?”
Melody: “All the time. If Google and Samsung didn’t keep hiring away all the SIGINT people with MIT degrees, I’m pretty sure they’d do it, too.”

There is a collective shaking of heads, rolling of eyes and rueful smiles around the living room. Wendell Dao, after grabbing a cup of coffee, does introductions.

Dao: “These hard-working ladies are our intelligence support. The commanding officer is Lieutenant Kendra Morales, US Navy. Our cell phone subject matter expert is Petty Officer Whitney Adkins, USN. And, as you no doubt deduced, doc, Ms. Melody Luna here is a civilian analyst who favours us with her time, even though she could probably have been a tech millionaire several times over.”

Ms. Luna blushes in response to the high-wattage smile bestowed on her by Wendell Dao. Her intended self-effacing reply only comes out as incoherent monosyllables and a demure involuntary return smile. Petty Officer Whitney Adkins is the outspoken tank top wearing comedienne and Lieutenant Kendra Morales is another winsome brunette. LT Morales is dressed in a uniform suit of the same bluish camouflage as the material of PO1 Adkins’ pants and wearing a holstered pistol.

Dao: “And, ladies, this here fine gentleman is Dr. Michael Anderson, civilian consultant to Joint Task Force Onyx Rain.”
LT Morales: “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Dr. Anderson. I’ve read so many of your memos that I almost feel like I know you.”
Anderson: “Memos?”
Dao: “Lieutenant Morales is tasked with the analysis of Project Jade Serenity personnel records, including the psychological evaluations.”
LT Morales: “Apparently, The Powers That Be consider my major in management and leadership studies somehow equivalent to a real psychology degree. I spend most of my time Googling terminology, trying to make heads or tails of it.”
Anderson: “You do not have the look of someone who is easily confused or intimidated, even by psychological jargon.”
Dao: “That she ain’t. Kendra here is as smart as they come. What she isn’t telling you is that her undergraduate degree was summa cum laude from Stanford, she’s also got a graduate degree in Strategic Intelligence and is working her way to a behavioural psych degree in her theoretical spare time.”
Anderson: “That I can believe.”
Morales: “The operators have been really nice about letting me feel like I belong, even though I can never get my knuckles to drag properly along the deck.”

Dao takes out his smartphone, looks at it and nods toward Dr. Anderson and LT Morales.

Dao: “Right. We’re doing the debriefing in the office. Lieutenant Morales, remember that the proper answer to anything these knuckleheads ask their superior officer while I am gone is an indignant denial and Captain’s Mast if you can. That way, they might still like me better when I get back.”
LT Morales: “Aye, aye, sir. No ice-cream until Da… I mean ‘the Skipper’ gets back.”
Dao: “I’d have to be a time traveller to be a Father to My Men, Morales.”
Morales: “Would you like to go back to ‘Skippy’, Lieutenant Commander?”
Dao [in overdone impression]: “I get no respect around here!”

[Icelander]

When the heavy metal door to the patient isolation room opens, Chase Taylor is still sitting in the same position on the padded floor, his back to the wall. The light in the room hasn’t been turned on and the brightness from the hall is blinding in comparison. The figure opening the door is a huge, bald African-American man in a suit, while a younger, smaller Caucasian with a high and tight haircut covers Taylor with an M4 carbine topped with an Aimpoint M68 CCO.

Despite the distraction of the glare to his dark adapted eyes, Taylor has no difficulty recognising Chief Warrant Officer (CW3) DeMarcus Worley and Staff Sergeant (SSG) Kevin Kowalski, the two US Army CID detectives who transported him from USDB Ft. Leavenworth. For a few seconds, Taylor continues staring blankly ahead, but then his ‘Bama manners and a need for some human contact compel him to speak.

Taylor: “Hey, y’all.”
CW3 Worley [deep, gravelly bass]: “I’m gonna ask you to stand up and turn around. Make it easier for us to handcuff you.”
Taylor: “Sure, Worley.”

With evident pain, Taylor raises himself from the floor and starts to assume the position. CW3 Worley turns on the light in the room and whistles softly when he sees the bloody rag on Taylor’s arm and the burns on his shoulder and side.

CW3 Worley: “You haven’t had a doctor look at you?”
Taylor: “Reckon my insurance won’t cover it.”
Worley: “Aw, hell. I can’t cuff you like that. It must hurt like a sonoffabitch. Just move real slow and don’t come within arm’s reach of either one of us. You’re not gonna do anything stupid, are you?”
Taylor: “Ain’t planning on it none. Don’t figure I got no call to hurt you, neither.”
Worley: “Long as you keep that in mind, Taylor.”
SSG Kowalski: “Yeah, you take one step I don’t like and I’ll blow your [fornicating] head off!”
Worley: “Just mosey on out, Taylor, and walk ahead of Staff Sergeant Kowalski. We’re going to be walking over the lawn to the medical building.”
Taylor: “I ain’t fixin’ to give you any trouble.”

As he speaks, Taylor walks very slowly out of the room, his hands held out from his sides. He starts walking at a leisurely pace, limping slightly, with SSG Kowalski following him, still aiming the rifle at him. At the door leading outside, there is a Coast Guardsman wearing jumpsuit, tactical gear and an Mk18 assault carbine. He opens the door and Taylor heads out.

The three men cross the grounds of Manhanock Asylum in uneventful silence, until Taylor can no longer contain himself.

Taylor: “I figure you ain’t supposed to brief me none, but can you jes’ tell me if Sherilyn Bell is okay? Are they treating her right? Is she being allowed to see Doc Anderson?”
CW3 Worley: “They’re treating her fine. That’s all I can tell you.”
Taylor: “An’ what about everybody else? Is the doc an’ all them all okay?”
Worley: “No fatalities since the Coast Guard touched down last night. Medical response going well. As far as I know, everybody doing good, considering.”
Taylor: “God bless you, Worley.”
Worley [resonant]: “Amen.”

Waking past another Coast Guard sentry, the threesome pass through a gate in the wall surrounding the main Manhanock complex and its grounds, and then enter the medical building just outside of it. Asking Taylor and SSG Kowalski to stay put in a waiting area where a harried man in civilian clothing is manning a computer, CW3 Worley goes on ahead. He comes back a couple of minutes later, still stone-faced, but Taylor can tell he’s unhappy about something.

CW3 Worley: “I’m sorry about this, Taylor. We’re gonna have to go right into an interview room. Believe me, this isn’t how I operate, but I’m not in charge.”
Taylor: “Don’t worry about it none. Ain’t nobody’s fault. An’ thanks, Worley.”

With a nod of his cragged head, Worley leads Taylor and Kowalski along a corridor, to an office with a closed door. He knocks on the door and is rewarded with a voice telling him to come in. Inside the office are two people, a distinguished Caucasian gentleman in the process of yielding gracefully to middle age, wearing a nice blue suit, and an Asian woman in her early thirties dressed in business casual clothing. They are sitting behind a desk and on the other side is an empty chair, waiting for Taylor.

Man: “Thank you, Worley. You may leave him here.”
CW3 Worley: “You’re aware I’ll be protesting up my chain of command, sir?”
Man: “Before you do, I suggest you speak with Zachary Holden. He’ll go over the security ramifications with you. We wouldn’t want you to accidentally speak with anyone who was not read in.”
Worley: “Sir.”

Stiffly, CW3 Worley turns to leave. Only when he closes the door behind Taylor does SSG Kowalski stop aiming his M4 at Taylor’s back and appearing very much like he’s just looking for an opportunity to pull the trigger.

Agent Richardson: “I’m Special Agent Gerald Richardson, Office of the Inspector General. Or Joint Task Force Onyx Rain, if you prefer. This is Special Agent Adeline Wong.”
Taylor: “Right glad to make y’all’s acquaintance. I reckon you’d know I’m Chase Taylor.”
Richardson: “We do. Please take a seat and let’s get started.”

Agent Wong begins by reading Taylor his Miranda rights. Then she asks the requisite administrative questions, full name, social security, legal residence and profession, noting down the answers and asking for clarifications on Taylor’s temporary employment by the Department of Homeland Security. After noting down the substance of the consultant contract Taylor signed in Washington D.C. and what Director Gujarat wanted Taylor to do for her, Wong moves on to the substance of the interview.

Agent Wong: “Prisoner Taylor, can you tell me, in your own words, what happened after you left Homeland Security headquarters on Friday morning and until you were detained by the US Coast Guard this morning?”
Taylor: “I surely could. An’ jes’ Taylor would do fine.”
Wong: “It’s not up to you how you are addressed, Prisoner Taylor. Proceed with your testimony.”

Taking his notebook out of his pocket, Taylor starts to deliver his after-action report. His narrative is surprisingly detailed, accurate and coherent, carefully distinguishing between fact, observed evidence, inferences, deductions and speculations. With a very few exceptions, he narrates exactly what he has witnessed from the beginning of his adventure on behalf of Homeland Security, leaving out nothing his formidable senses uncovered.

The only events about which he is less than perfectly forthcoming are those having to do with Sherilyn Bell’s mysterious gifts, and, more generally, their more intimate interactions. Taylor doesn’t shy away from describing Bell’s physical gifts and deducing a probable connection to Project Jade Serenity, but he carefully avoids mentioning anything that hints at her ability to project mental illusions. Taylor doesn’t mention O’Toole’s or Dr. Anderson’s secret powers either, but in that case, it is because he has not seen any evidence of them.

About his private conversations with Sherilyn Bell in the guards’ barracks, he says only, generally, that they spoke of their shared past and their lives since they were parted.

Richardson: “Can you elaborate?”
Taylor: “I don’t reckon I can, no, sir. The lady done had herself a real bad time an’ we spoke in private. You’d best speak with her if’n you’re after hearing more about her time here.”

Agent Adeline Wong is giving Taylor a hard look that doesn’t look very friendly. Trying to pretend that it doesn’t bother him, Taylor continues his story. He describes their attempts to summon help, their flight through the tunnels, discovery of Judith York, all the tracks and evidence they found in the tunnels and their encounter with the strange rats of Jewell Island.

Taylor’s observations about the rats may lack the professional understanding of a biologist, but as the basis for a threat assessment, he has noted every salient fact. Taylor’s own analysis of the extreme threat to human life on Earth presented by a new species of hyper-intelligent rats, which appear from their numbers to be able to breed true, is both cogent and sobering.*

More or less all sources of food and water for urban populations of humans are extremely vulnerable to sabotage by intelligent beings the size and shape of rats and countermeasures that work on regular rodents would have a very low success rate against creatures even close to sapience. Human civilization, in its current form, could not survive a war against a population of sapient rats that expanded at an exponential rate similar to the breeding capabilities of ordinary rats.

Taylor: “I don’t know they exact time it would take, sir, but I figure that if even one breeding pair makes it off Jewell Island, the rats would displace regular ol’ rats everywhere within less than a human generation. An’ Jewell Island may already be within swimming range of somewhere else for these rats. If’n they are hostile to us, I reckon we need a plan to make sure they ain’t never gonna breed in the wild. You’d best get APHIS an’ whoever responds to bio-attacks on CONUS on it soonest.”

After carefully noting down specifics on the threat posed by the rats, Agent Richardson takes over the questioning. Without much prompting, Taylor resumes his narrative, describing the fight with guards in the main complex. He’s reticent about his argument with Bell there, but forthcoming about everything else, including the severe injuries suffered by guards from flashbangs and his brutal hand-to-hand combat with Warden Tyrrell.

*Observation success by 18, Intelligence Analysis success by 8.

[Icelander]

Agent Will Dunbar: “I’m afraid it’s true, Danny. They are still taking Ms. Bell’s testimony, so I am not sure of the exact details, but the allegations appear to be of a sexual nature.”
Zachary Holden: “Oh, it’s just goddamn ‘allegations’ now. Just because your fair-haired boy was a Ranger once upon a time doesn’t make him [fornicating] innocent.”

Agent Dunbar turns in his chair and fixes Holden with a stern look.

Dunbar: “Allow me to make myself perfectly clear, Holden, because I am not sure you understand.
Yes, it is true that I consider your apparent vendetta against Chase Taylor unjustified and unprofessional. I may also have made remarks, in your presence, to the effect that Taylor’s record and every psychological evaluation on him suggest that he served his country well and loyally, but was shabbily rewarded by a cover-up and a culture of silence which prevented him from mounting an effective legal defence at his trial. That, in fact, as far as I could see, he was neither a criminal nor a murderer, but a man who had been illegally experimented upon by unscrupulous scientists, with the drugs he was given as a young soldier apparently causing the tragic side-effects that would eventually lead to him shooting Warren Otis in Decatur.
I also happen to truly believe in the American Constitution, our imperfect, but idealistic legal system, and its underlying principle of ‘Innocent until proven guilty’. I arrest suspects, Holden, not just the guilty. And I don’t set myself up as judge and jury. We have a system for that and what that man-made system occasionally gets wrong, I believe, I have to believe, that a just God will make it right in the hereafter.
None of that, Holden, means that I condone sexual assault. And it certainly doesn’t mean that I’m going to do any less than my best in trying to root it out. It doesn’t matter if the suspect is someone I considered unfairly maligned, whom I even admired. No one gets away with that on my watch. And no woman should have to suffer fear, anxiety or a hostile working environment in any unit where I have the authority to do something about it. So you can rest assured, Holden, that I am going to get to the bottom of what truly happened. And if Taylor has committed crimes of a sexual nature against Ms. Bell, I will see him tried, convicted and punished.”
Holden: “Tried? Really? You’re dumb enough to think anyone will authorise that?”
Dunbar: “I certainly hope that they will. If not, we will do as frontier societies did before formally integrated into the United States. We’ll set up our own courts of those who belong to our society, in their case by association, in our case by security clearance and need-to-know. We will rely on Common Law, the United States Constitution, equity and the Lord’s natural law. We may be forced to operate in the shadows, but that doesn’t mean we have to be unjust or arbitrary.”
Holden: “Jay-zus! Are you sure you’re not a [fornicating] lawyer?”

Dunbar shakes his head and turns again towards Danny O’Toole.

Dunbar: “I’m sure you understand, Danny, why we have to ask these questions. Ms. Bell, no matter what happened at New Year’s 2000, is a wronged woman. Her treatment, by men drawing their pay from the United States government, has been more outrageous, more immoral and more invidious, than any crimes she might have stood accused of at that time. Joint Task Force Onyx Rain is asking for her help and we have a sacred duty to ensure her safety and peace of mind while she is under our care. That means that there can be no suggestion of any improper behaviour by anyone who is to work with her. And any allegations of sexual misconduct will be swiftly and severely dealt with.”
Danny O’Toole: “I, uh, really didn’t notice anything like that. Yeah, sure, I mean, I noticed the mutual attraction, like I said, but she never seemed uneasy or uncomfortable around him in my presence.”
Dunbar: “That seems clear enough. Of course, you weren’t with them the entire night.”
O’Toole: “Nah. I can’t answer for what I didn’t see, you know? And I guess she seemed angry with him at the end there. Frankly, I imagined that he’d rebuffed her and she didn’t take it so well.”
Dunbar: “If you thought there was mutual attraction, why did you imagine that Taylor had rebuffed Ms. Bell?”
O’Toole: “I guess because of what happened to her here. I mean, it’s pretty clear she was sexually abused by men on the guard force. Probably many of them, for years. I suppose I thought Taylor felt she was all messed up about it and didn’t want to take advantage under the circumstances. I mean, he looks the sort. And the briefing materials say he used to be in love with her.”
Holden: “Oh, what absolute [fornicating] bull[excrement]! Mealy-mouthed [vulgar term for female genitalia] is just speculating!”
O’Toole: “Yah, I know. I don’t really know anything about it, like I said. I’m just trying to tell you what my impressions were. I know you got experts to do the psychoanalysing.
There was this one time I noticed that they must’ve been arguing, Taylor and Bell, when they were alone in a corridor one floor up from us for some time. Like I said, judging by what they looked like, the flirting she’d been doing and what I had read in the briefing materials, I thought she’d thrown himself at him and he’d rebuffed her. Maybe it was the other way around, I don’t know. She did look like she’d been crying.
But they still seemed to trust each other when it came to danger. I mean, she followed him like she’d [fornicating] trained with him in Special Forces, obeyed his commands promptly and when she was taking fire, she screamed for his help. There just wasn’t any reason for me to suspect anything. If I did, I would have done something.”
Dunbar: “I’m sure you would. Now, what can you tell us about your relationship with Sherilyn Bell?”
O’Toole: What? No! I didn’t… she never… there wasn’t anything like that!”
Dunbar: “Relax. No one is accusing you of anything. In fact, you’ve done well. You’ve earned her trust. She feels comfortable around you.”
Holden: “You apparently don’t [fornicating] intimidate her, either physically or sexually. Which doesn’t make any goddamn sense to me. All you Southie Micks beat your wives almost as much as you beat off your uncircumcised junk and every time you hear about white men committing gang rape on the goddamn arcade in a dirty local bar, you can bet your ass the perps were named something like Murphy, Connolly and Toole, nine times out of ten.
Guess she must just be stupid, which makes sense, her getting mixed up with [fornicating] Raul Vargas and now Chase Taylor, two prize [fornicating] [rectums]. Anyhow, you can thank whatever heathen, Pope-sucking saint you worship for that slutty Southern white trash [vulgar term for female genitalia] having an unerring instinct for [anuses] to put her trust in, because that’s the only [fornicating] reason anyone is even thinking about not burying you in a shallow mother[fornicating] grave, metaphorical or not.”
Dunbar: “Incredibly offensive stereotyping aside, I’m afraid Holden does have a point, Danny. The strongest argument for maintaining you as an operational agent of JTF Onyx Rain is your rapport with Sherilyn Bell. Obviously, we cannot and will not force her to associate with a man suspected of serious crimes against her person.
At the same time, we are conscious of the need to have someone she trusts in the team that’s sent with her to contact Vargas in Mexico. She’s asked specifically that you are assigned to her, as her personal security, handler or whatever else is necessary. No decision has been made on whether Ms. Bell is well enough to travel anywhere, of course. But if she does go to Mexico, would you be willing to go with her?”
O’Toole: “Yeah, sure. It’s my duty, isn’t it?”
Holden: “It’s a [fornicating] travesty, is what it is. But I guess that shows why you can have secrecy or you can have efficiency, but you can’t have both. We’re classified so high up that we can’t get enough good field agents fast enough to deal with all the [faeces] we’ve got to deal with, especially with this cluster[fornication] here. So there it [fornicating] is. Your only qualification as a field agent is the fact that you apparently didn’t try to rape our quote ‘intelligence asset’ unquote, and she doesn’t expect you to in the future. But I’m expected to [fornicating] sign off on you anyway, because we don’t have a couple of weeks to select and read in someone better and then convince that psycho bitch he’s goddamn trustworthy.”
O’Toole: “Look, I’m sorry you don’t like me, Mr. Holden, but I did my job. And I’ll do my goddamn job in Mexico too.”
Holden: “The [fornication] you will! But if we’re lucky, all you have to do is not rape anybody, fetch the psycho bitch ice cream enchiladas or whatever these spics eat and not screw up for the rest of the people who’ll actually do the job.”
Dunbar: “You’ll have an experienced agent with you and the military side of JTF Onyx Rain will provide intelligence support, an extraction team at the ready and all the C3I* we could ask for. And if there is anything that you believe would make Ms. Bell a more effective and more reliable intelligence asset, you ask and we’ll do the best we can to make it happen.”
O’Toole: “Well, I mean, she’s been through a lot, you know. If she trusts me, that’s good, but she can’t get the feeling that she’s still a prisoner. So we can’t have too many people around her and we can’t act like we don’t trust her. Even when we don’t. I don’t know, maybe it would help to have someone along who wasn’t an agent or soldier. Psychologist, maybe, but not someone she’d be afraid of, like the ones from here. Someone she can trust.”

*Command, control, communications and intelligence.

[johndallman]

You can see why Holden is unhappy with the whole setup. He has no reason to believe Bell has any loyalty to Jade Serenity, and definite grounds to doubt O'Toole's effectiveness in handling her. Ortiz and his group went AWOL, and they seemed well-organised and loyal compared to this shower.

I think it's only Holden's well-disguised professionalism that's keeping him from embracing this mission as a way to get rid of all these lunatics.

Originally Posted by Icelander

... all the C4I* ...
*Command, control, communications and intelligence.

The fourth C is usually computing.

[Icelander]

Originally Posted by johndallman

You can see why Holden is unhappy with the whole setup. He has no reason to believe Bell has any loyalty to Jade Serenity, and definite grounds to doubt O'Toole's effectiveness in handling her. Ortiz and his group went AWOL, and they seemed well-organised and loyal compared to this shower.

Just so.

Things have already gone catastrophically wrong. It might well be that Director Gujarat may conclude that the ability of JTF Onyx Rain to contain the fallout is coming to an end. What she would do in such a case in unclear, as we don't know who backs her or how much authority she actually holds from the National Command Authority, but there may come a time when Director Gujarat has to come clean to a lot of senior people and let the chips fall where they may.

Project Jade Serenity is not longer just a piece of grubby history of governmental coverup. The blowback from it and other, similar programs, presents potential grave consequences for the United States. Arguably, some of the former test subjects of Project Jade Serenity may already present clear and present danger to the security of the Continental United States, depending on who they have contacted and what they are planning. Col. Ortiz most certainly has the capability to grievously harm US interests in Latin America, even if his many friends within US Special Operation Forces might find it hard to believe that he would want to do any such thing.

It may be time to risk exposure of JTF Onyx Rain in order to be able to apply the real resources of the United States government toward meeting the threat of the former Project Jade Serenity subjects.

Originally Posted by johndallman

I think it's only Holden's well-disguised professionalism that's keeping him from embracing this mission as a way to get rid of all these lunatics.

Well, he's smarter than he looks.

Who says he's not doing just that, while pretending he has to be cajoled into signing off on it under protest, and making sure that every single memo relating to this mission mentions his opposition, so that his backside is well and truly covered when things inevitably go pear-shaped?

Originally Posted by johndallman

The fourth C is usually computing.

Yeah, thought I had written C3I there. Dunbar is almost forty and was an enlisted Army Ranger 1998-2006. He's also conservative, socially and technologically, and better at humanities, social sciences and making friends and influencing people than he is at forensic accounting, computer security or the scientific and technological aspects of investigations.*

So I thought he'd not be as likely to use the most current buzz words. Though I may be exaggerating the differrence in jargon between the US Army ten to twelve years ago and in 2017. In any case, JSOC is providing computing support to JTF Onyx Rain, as well as forward intelligence elements from 'the Activity', extraction elements from DEVGRU and command, control, communications and intelligence support.

On the other hand, the apparent unwillingness of Director Gujarat and her closest advisors to part with any information to anyone at JSOC, except under great duress, is limiting the degree to which Onyx Rain can make use of their resources. They are allowing a very small team from 'the Activity' and only a platoon** of DEVGRU operators, at most.

Of course, there might be valid reasons to trust only those officers that they know personally and have vetted extensively and refuse to allow Onyx Rain material to be passed to any significant number of staff officers at JSOC.

For one thing, Col. Ortiz was considered a likely prospect to command JSOC, after the stint as 7th SFG (A) Commanding Officer that everyone knew was coming for him. He had a lot of friends and colleagues who had done stints on JSOC staff or were there currenty. Even former JSOC commanding general Stanley McChrystal was Ortiz's battalion commander in the 75th Ranger Regiment while Ortiz was a bright new Second Lieutenant and his Regimental commander when Ortiz volunteered for Project Jade Serenity. And Col. Ortiz spent 2011-2013 as a Lieutenant Colonel on JSOC's intelligence staff.

There aren't many people at JSOC Ortiz doesn't know personally. The use of the DEVGRU operators was an attempt to find someone from within the relatively small world of US Special Operations Forces who hadn't served with him or his men.

Of course, this applies also within the Homeland Security part of Onyx Rain, given that the incumbent Secretary of Homeland Security at the time the game is set is recently retired Gen. John F. Kelly, the former commander of US Southern Command, who would have received at least weekly briefings from Col. Ortiz and reportedly considered the younger officer somewhat of a protegé. Which explains why Ortiz was essentially unsupervised, at least when it came to the military part of his duties, when he and his men deserted the first time. Col. Ortiz was the supervision that the US military assigned to Onyx Rain.

Another reason is that some of the aides, assistants and junior officers who might have been aware of the original Project Jade Serenity program, and participated in the cover-up, might be Majors, Lieutenant-Colonels and Colonels on some staff now. Including the staff at JSOC, possibly, especially considering that Project Jade Serenity must have been authorised by some bright military minds with TS-SCI clearances, contacts within the US Special Operations community and interest in black military projects.

It's not outside the realm of possibility that there are general officers and senior Colonels still serving who were among those who approved Project Jade Serenity. One or more of them might be briefed on all major JSOC activities and deployments and the more low key the JSOC contribution to Onyx Rain, the less likely that this happens. The odds are that the small JSOC contribution to the operation in Mexico is officially registered on a training rotation somewhere.

*He's not actively handicapped at using modern technology, more that he's very good at traditional investigational methods, as practised during most of the 20th century, and still very relevant even with access to various high technology.
**Of whom only half the platoon seems to have been read in on the situation in Mexico, at least as far as O'Toole can tell. The other eight SEALs appear to be detached to some other duty, which O'Toole doesn't know what is, under the Lieutenant who was meant to replace LCDR Dao when he got his promotion.

[Icelander]

Special Agent Adeline Wong asks occasional questions, but otherwise, Chase Taylor’s detailed report of the events at Manhanock Asylum proceeds without much in the way of input from the two Homeland Security agents from JTF Onyx Rain. When Taylor comes to his encounter with Warden Tyrrell in the main complex, Special Agent Gerald Richardson clears his throat and interrupts.

Agent Richardson: "Correct me if I am wrong, but this would be the Deputy Warden of Manhanock Asylum, the commander of the guard contingent, CEO of Manhanock Security and a Chief Warrant Officer in the US Coast Guard Reserve?”
Taylor: “I reckon he musta been. He sure was the commander of them guards and the Deputy Warden of this here asylum, but I never caught his USCG Reserve rank nor his company title. I done knowed he run that guard company, though.”
Richardson: And is it not true that at the time of Deputy Warden Bradley Tyrrell's death, he was leading armed military personnel and federal law enforcement agents in an act of mutiny against the United States? Weapons were found on the ground near his body and Warden Tyrrell had given specific orders to kill you and the rest of the people here from Onyx Rain. In fact, when Tyrrell was killed, he had been trying to kill you in hand-to-hand combat."
Taylor: "An' you want me to say I feared for my life, sir? It wasn't like that. I done murdered Warden Tyrrell. I wanted him dead."
Agent Wong: “Can you confirm that you have waived your right to counsel and understand all the rights you have previously been read, Prisoner Taylor, and then repeat your confession?”

Agent Richardson sighs and with great deliberation turns off the recording device on the table.

Richardson: “Agent Wong. This recording is being made merely because neither of us wants to type out the entire interview. It is never going into evidence. It will never be played in any United States courtroom. Surely this must be obvious to you?”
Wong: “Sir, I…”
Richardson: “We are never going to tell a judge that a task force under the joint auspices of Homeland Security and the Department of Defense arranged to have a dangerous convict removed from USDB Ft. Leavenworth, armed him with the knowledge and consent of senior people, and then allowed him to kill two people. We cannot prosecute a prisoner for acts he committed while theoretically in our custody; but functionally in command of a group of people employed by Homeland Security. Many people at JTF Onyx Rain would lose their jobs if we did. Some might go to prison. Worst of all, our ability to do our jobs would be fatally compromised at a time when we really cannot afford that.”

Adeline Wong looks shocked. She is obviously searching for a rebuttal, but nothing immediately comes to mind. Gerald Richardson turns to Taylor.

Richardson: “I suspect that you already knew this. What you should consider, however, are the consequences of this fact for you. You may believe that Agent Wong and I have relatively little power over you. Administratively, you still belong the vast machinery of the United States Army and at worst, we can only return you to USDB Ft. Leavenworth to serve out the remainder of your sentence.
After all, your faithful minders of the US Army CID are here, already making a nuisance of themselves, reminding us all of the vast power of impersonal bureaucracy. Because they signed you out, they are bound and determined by the power of paperwork to take you back to prison. Unpleasant, perhaps, but nothing you had not prepared yourself for mentally.”

Agent Gerald Richardson leans forward and speaks in an even quieter, more reasonable voice.

Richardson: “You should think again, Taylor. As far as USDB Ft. Leavenworth is concerned, you have been transferred to a special federal Communication Management Unit (CMU), at a location I will not share with you. On paper, you will serve out the rest of your sentence there. I understand that the conditions are not bad. Very professional, very disciplined, very safe. Much like the conditions at a federal ADX facility, except with no contact with the outside world. Your very existence would be classified TS-SCI and I assure you that no one would need to know about the prisoner at the CMU. Or lack thereof.
Worley and Kowalski will find that they are no longer responsible for your transport. They signed you over to Col. Burr when you stepped on the ferry to Jewell Island and their responsibilities will not resume merely because Col. Burr has been incapacitated. You may rest assured that your paperwork will show that another officer took over your transportation to your final destination. You need not concern yourself with his name. He will not remember yours.
And no matter what happens to you on Jewell Island, I assure that your paperwork will be immaculate. No one will ever have any reason to complain about your paperwork. This is my personal guarantee. I am sure you realise, from having served almost fourteen years in the military, exactly how much work is involved in squaring away all the paperwork. Especially if you do not, in fact, arrive where you are supposed to arrive, when you are supposed to arrive. Nevertheless, I promise you that if we have to, we will take care of it.
Do you understand me, Taylor?”
Taylor: “I reckon you jes’ threatened to bury me in a shallow grave right here on Jewell Island. Ain’t that right, sir?”
Richardson: “No, Taylor. I’m not a shallow man and I hope that nothing I ever construct shall ever be shallow. What I bury; it stays buried.”

Wong looks appalled. Ignoring her distress, Richardson turns on the recording device again.

Richardson: “You were telling us, Taylor, that you subdued Warden Tyrrell after a short struggle which occurred when he charged you. What happened next?”

Taylor takes up the story again, narrating how he used the unconscious Tyrrell as a shield against Inspector Rankin, how he threw Tyrrell at Rankin and managed to grapple the armed man and how he stamped on Tyrrell’s head when he heard him still breathing. Agent Wong winces, but Richardson shows no reaction.

Then Taylor explains his acrobatic leap from the balcony overlooking the ground floor of the front main building to a second floor window in the rear annex, the scene he found in the rear annex and the subsequent actions taken to secure the area. When describing room clearing and areas of responsibility, his vocabulary is technical, yet clear, and while nothing can eliminate his rural drawl, his grammar seems to improve.

Taylor makes no attempt to conceal the fact that his hearing is acute enough to be able to follow a conversation in what turned out to be the Deputy Warden’s office even while in the rear annex. He is also quite clear on the fact that after running down the guard sharpshooter with Danny O’Toole, he ordered Agent O’Toole to remain behind and secure the guard while he moved forward.

Richardson: “And Agent O’Toole obeyed without hesitation?”
Taylor: “He ain’t got much choice, if’n we being fair here. His first time under fire an’ he facing military men with real long experience together. He may not have done too good alone in them tunnels, but ain’t nothing wrong with how he done when he took my orders. Jes’ common sense, really, not having the rookie second guessing them what knows how.”
Richardson: “I see. Agent O’Toole sensibly concurred with your tactical judgment. And after this was when you moved to rescue the hostages?”
Taylor: “You might could say that. It ain’t what I was thinkin’, though, sir. No, sir, I done had me murder in my heart jes’ then. Powerfu’ Old Testament kinda feelin’, yes, sir.”

Richardson turns off the recording again.

Richardson: “I don’t know if you’re looking for absolution or a cross to nail yourself to, Taylor. In any case, you’d best look for it somewhere else. I’m not looking for a confession, I’m looking for data to make a judgment call. If we applied moral standards to whether or not we were prepared to make use of an asset, the position of criminal informant wouldn’t exist and drug dealers, pimps or contract killers would never rat out the kingpins above them.
All I really want to know about you is whether we can trust you to do what you are told or if you are a mad dog who needs to be treated like one.”
Taylor: “I ain’t no mad dog, sir. I gone an’ killed two men, I know, but I done had my reasons.”
Richardson: “I understand you don’t want to share them, but I’m going to have to insist.”

Taylor looks conflicted and anguished in his chair. Adeline Wong is watching him with a mixture of disgust, fury and fear, which bothers Taylor far more than if she just hated him.

Taylor: “You know what they done here, don’t you? Jes’ like Auschwitz and Mengele, ‘cept they experimenting on people’s minds as well as bodies?”
Richardson: “I’m aware of some of what has been done here and I expect I’ll learn more than I want to know as time goes by.”
Taylor: “An’ you knows they was going to get away with it. Dr. Cotton, he was going to convince Townsend an ‘em all an’ he was going to do it all again. Not right now, no. Later, one step at a time, jes’ ever so sweetly an’ reasonably telling y’all about the scientific benefits an’ the necessary sacrifices an’ all the things they say when they need to convince somebody. An’ then one day, they’d be here again. Maybe other victims. Maybe some o’ the same, even. But this same maze of tunnels what ain’t got no escape but death. This same evil.”
Richardson: “So you killed them because their evil offended you?”
Taylor: “I done told myself I was saving the victims. But I knowed I was wrong. I ain’t God’s avenging angel. I’m jes’ a dumb country redneck. I was prideful. I was angry. It ain’t who I was raised to be, sir.”
Richardson: “So killing Warden Tyrrell and Dr. Cotton was not something Sherilyn Bell had asked you to do?”

[Icelander]

Amidst jocular laughter and joking from the women in the living room, LCDR Wendell Dao and Dr. Michael Anderson walk to the home office in the ‘cottage’. It is a nicely appointed room furnished in oak and old books. The signs of a recent and enthusiastic cleaning are still evident, though whoever went through the book shelves obviously didn’t remove the books from the shelves before dusting.

Setting up a video feed with a camera pointing at the oaken desk is the armed man in the cowboy hat, ‘Tex’. He says ‘Howdy’ and continues his work. Dao pulls up a chair for Dr. Anderson and takes a seat to the side.

LCDR Dao: “If you’d like more coffee or somethin’, I bet we could get you some before we start.”
Dr. Anderson: “No thank you, Wendell. I am quite content.”

While Anderson and Dao wait for the interviewer/s from Onyx Rain, they chat inconsequentially about the scale of the emergency response, speculate about the length of time that they are likely to be quarantined and commiserate with each other over being stuck on an island off Maine in February, where even the fine, clear days are freezing cold.

‘Tex’ quickly finishes his setup process, but instead of leaving, sticks around leaning against a book shelf, following the conversation and contributing nothing. Anderson finds this odd and odder still that Dao doesn’t order him out, but chooses not to mention it.

After a fairly long while, there is a knock on the office door. Dao apologises and stands up to open the door. His man, Mack, with the curly hair, informs him that Agent Richardson is there and wants to start the interview. Dao confirms that they are ready and a tall and spare middle-aged man in a nice suit walks in.

Agent Richardson: “How do you do, Dr. Anderson? I’m Special Agent Gerald Richardson with the Department of Homeland Security, Joint Task Force Onyx Rain.”
Anderson: “A pleasure, Agent Richardson.”
Richardson: “I understand you’ve been through a lot since last night, Doctor, and that you probably just want some peace and quiet. I’m sorry to have to put you through any more trouble, but we’re going to have to go over things with you at some point. Not only were you witness to a number of felonies, but you were working as a consultant for us at the time. We’d be remiss if we did not debrief you fully.”
Anderson: “No apologies necessary. I quite understand.”
Richardson: “That’s a relief. I’m sure that with your education and experience, you’ll be able to contribute valuable insight.”

Agent Richardson takes a seat opposite Dr. Anderson. Tex takes a free chair and pulls it to a place behind Richardson, with a clear view of Anderson.

Richardson: “I hope you don’t mind, but since we are a Joint Task Force and in light of the situation in Mexico, we’d like to have the military experts charged with planning the operation at the border sit in on the debrief. You know Lieutenant-Commander Wendell Dao and this is Captain ‘Tex’ Trevino of the US Army.”
Anderson: “Indeed? Captain Trevino? Of the Special Forces?”

Tex Trevino gives his folksy, and Dr. Anderson now notes, entirely superficial grin, as Dao and Agent Richardson look at each other.

Richardson: “Something like that.”
‘Tex’ Trevino: “Oh, I’m not as exciting as all that. Just think of me an’ mine as tech support for them badass Rambo types in Commander Dao’s team.”

From what Dr. Anderson can tell, Dao and Richardson do not give this any more credence than he does, but neither of them contradicts Trevino’s description of his role. Anderson notes that like many recruits who make superb commandos for the US military, ‘Tex’ Trevino appears to be a tough, leathery, outdoorsy type from the rural South or West states, with the light-coloured, blue or grey eyes that so many Medal of Honor winners and sociopaths are said to share.

While the statistics behind that assertion are questionable, Anderson has no difficulty believing that ‘Tex’ Trevino could kill without hesitation or remorse, or that he might continue to grin that friendly grin no matter what ruthless acts he committed. Most people probably assume from the folksy accent and outfit that CPT Trevino is a bit slow of wit, but basically funny and well-meaning. Anderson recognises that there is not a trace of warmth or humour in the icy eyes behind the grin. There is, however, a ferocious intelligence and the hunting focus of a dangerous predator.

Special Agent Gerald Richardson might be the most obviously well-spoken and educated man in the room, other than Dr. Anderson himself, and there is no reason to assume that he is any less intelligent than he seems. Dr. Anderson suspects, however, that the other two men might be every bit as smart, but quite a bit more lethal.

Wendell Dao seems to be one of those exemplary soldiers who defines himself by old-fashioned notions of warrior honour and courage. He may be frightening to his enemies, but Anderson finds such men comforting to have on his side, rather than intimidating. Looking into the eyes of CPT ‘Tex’ Trevino, on the other hand, doesn’t feel like looking into the eyes of a soldier. It feels like staring into the eyes of a shark wearing a human skinsuit.

Agent Richardson: “I was thinking that you might start by describing what happened, how you experienced it and everything you noticed about the people you were with. I’m sure you recognise that we don’t really need evidence to convict dead men like Dr. Bruce Cotton and Deputy Warden Brad Tyrrell. What we need to know is mostly about the living. We need to plan our next steps and to do that, we need to know what role, if any, can be played by certain people here.”
Dr. Anderson: “It would probably be best to start with my testimony. I do not know if it would be professional of me to speculate when it comes to people whose records I have not reviewed and whom I am not treating.”
Richardson: “I wouldn’t dream of making you uncomfortable, Doctor. But you did come here, did you not, to report on the mental state and competence of Ms. Bell?”
Anderson: “I did. Unfortunately, events intervened and I have had no opportunity to formally interview her. As for her psychological records, I understand there might be some difficulty about accessing them…?”
Richardson: “As far as we can tell, most of the records that were kept by Dr. Cotton burned up in the fire of his office. Apparently, he was very security conscious and refused to keep patient files anywhere except on a secure computer drive or on hand-written notes in a locked cabinet. Both of which burned up. All we have are older records, some progress reports or memos responding to queries from the Chief of Psychiatry here.”
Anderson: “Most unfortunate. Well, would you like to begin our story as we arrived at Jewell Island or would you like to go back even further?”
Richardson: “Let’s stipulate, like David Copperfield did, that everyone involved was born and that they grew up. Start with meeting Mackenzie Chase Taylor in DC.”

And so Dr. Anderson starts recounting the events that led to the quarantine crisis on Jewell Island. His presence at DHS headquarters in Washington D.C. as a newly hired consultant for Homeland Security and his meeting with the people he would be working with. The meetings and planning sessions having to do with a proposed operation to offer the outlaw Raul Vargas and a team of AWOL Special Forces soldiers down in Mexico conditional amnesty if they will accept employment from and surveillance by Onyx Rain. And the journey to Portland, Maine, to visit the Manhanock Asylum for the Criminally Insane, on Jewell Island outside the town.

Anderson is not a spellbinding orator and his diction is more pedantic than engaging. He spends more time laying out the reduced scope of operations at Manhanock Asylum from the time he served his residency there than he does on describing vivid scenarios like the first meeting with Sherilyn ‘Cherry’ Bell or finding a brutalised kidnap victim in a cell, covered in his own faeces. Nevertheless, his reporting is substantially accurate, well organised and perceptive.

The only thing he leaves out of his narrative, strictly speaking, are details having to do with Cherry Bell’s supernatural gifts for creating mental illusions and the mostly unspoken conspiracy to keep this from Onyx Rain, as well as, obviously, his own secret abilities and any information he gathered using his gifts. He also doesn’t speculate much on events he did not witness or what motivations may have been behind various acts.

The fact that Terry Amiti was a patient during Dr. Anderson’s residency at the asylum, but had definitely been transferred before he left clearly arouses their interest. As do the details that Dr. Anderson can provide about the powers exhibited by Dr. Cotton and the information from the hypnotised nurse.

Richardson: “Sounds like Dr. Cotton would have been an important source of information, whether from a security perspective or scientific one.”
Anderson: “From a scientific point of view, I regret his death extremely. I cannot help but note, however, that Dr. Cotton was reciting what seemed to be a post-hypnotic suggestion phrase as he died. Given that he had drugged the food and drink supplies of most everyone on the island and spent literally years implanting false memories and control mechanisms in the staff here, I would not like to predict what could have happened if he had not been killed before he had a chance to do any further harm. Almost certainly the low death toll was a direct result of his instant incapacitation.”
Richardson: “Are you saying that Taylor killed him in self-defence?”
Anderson: “I was not present when Dr. Cotton died and I should not like to speculate.”
Tex Trevino: “Why doncha try, doc? Ya can see why we’d feel a mite obligated to investigate whether the convicted murderer we’re using as an asset is goin’ to murder indiscriminately?”

[Icelander]

Dr. Anderson: “I saw nothing that would lead me to believe that Taylor poses a risk to his allies or to innocent people.”
Agent Richardson: “What about Ms. Bell?”
Anderson: “You want to know if she poses a risk to innocent people?”
Richardson: “That’s a good question as well, Dr. Anderson, but I was wondering more about her relationship with Taylor.”
Anderson: “They are close. Affectionate. The hope that Ms. Bell would be more inclined to listen to someone she liked and trusted was, in fact, the reason Taylor was asked to speak with her.”
Richardson: “And how did that work?”
Anderson: “From what I could tell, it had both positives and negatives. Yes, Ms. Bell was more cooperative with Taylor than I expect she might have been with anyone else from the US government, but both of them were also emotionally compromised, much like teenagers in the throes of their first love.”
Richardson: “What do you mean by that?”
Anderson: “I mean that Ms. Bell and Taylor exhibited every sign of mutual attraction and that it has the potential to complicate any working relationship they might establish. Is this really an issue that needs expert testimony? As far as I know, we knew about this before we even arrived at the island.”
Richardson: “Ms. Bell has claimed that she was sexually assaulted.”
Anderson: “While a prisoner here at Manhanock Island? I strongly suspected that this was the case.”
Richardson: “I mean last night. By Taylor.”
Anderson: "That seems unlikely."
Richardson: "Nevertheless, that's what she claims."
Anderson: “I have no evidence that any such incident took place. What I personally witnessed was Ms. Bell making sexual advances towards several men, including Taylor. Her behaviour is not unusual for a victim of sexual violence, of course, but to a layman, it would appear that she was initiating any intimate contact.”
Richardson: “So you are saying that Taylor simply didn’t realise that he was going further than Ms. Bell was comfortable with?”
Anderson: “I do not know which specific incident that you mean, but from everything I witnessed, Ms. Bell was sexually aggressive toward more than one person, but primarily toward Taylor. As far as I could tell, Taylor did not act on his interest in Ms. Bell last night and I do not believe that anything happened between them more than a kiss they shared in the mess hall of the guards' barracks. Ms. Bell is not very good at dealing with rejection and if she experienced any hesitation on Taylor's as rejection, I can imagine that she would react... poorly.”
Richardson: “I see. In your professional opinion, is Ms. Bell capable of assisting with a federal investigation, as an informant or intelligence asset?”
Anderson: “I have not yet been able to evaluate her current state properly.”
Richardson: “Based on your limited experience of her so far?”
Anderson: “Assuming that her psychiatric situation is no better than my preliminary investigation suggests, I would not think so, no.”
Richardson: “What do you mean, Doctor?”
Anderson: “I mean that considering the mental trauma that Ms. Bell has suffered, it would be unreasonable to expect her to function as a covert operative for anyone. She does not trust anyone from Onyx Rain and, frankly, I do not think it is reasonable to expect her to. She will tell anyone who pressurises her anything she wants him to hear or anything she believes will lead to a better chance of walking free. She may even lie when it would be more rational to tell the truth, but it would be all but inhuman for her to emerge from her ordeal without serious trust issues.”
Richardson: “So you think she’s useless as an informant?”
Anderson: “I think it would be a mistake to try to ask any such task of her so soon. She needs time with people she trusts, socialisation and real psychological assistance for months before she can function remotely like a real person. Frankly, I think that the US government owes her all of the above.”

There is a silence for a while. Agent Richardson clears his throat.

Agent Richardson: “Assuming an operational situation that made her assistance imperative, how would you evaluate her potential as an intelligence asset?”
Anderson: “Ms. Bell? As of now? She considers any representative of the US government her enemy and she is more likely to try to deceive her enemies than to provide them with aid and assistance. I would honestly consider any information she gave unreliable and I would avoid any operation that depended on her cooperation. Mind you, I am not arguing that she should not be considered as an intelligence source for the future. Just that it would be a inhumane and irrational to force her into any kind of hazardous situation immediately when she gets out of isolation after almost two decades of terrible imprisonment.”
Richardson: “Are you saying that she may have lied to us in her statement?”
Anderson: “I think Ms. Bell needs extensive psychological assistance and that before that time, she is in no way capable of distinguishing between truth and fiction. She is not mentally healthy enough to function as a spy or covert operative.”
Richardson: “And she’s lying to us?”
Anderson: “Lying implies a degree of premeditation that I do not believe applies to someone who has suffered the trauma that Ms. Bell has survived.”

After a period of silence, CPT Trevino sighs and addresses Dr. Andreson.

‘Tex’ Trevino: “Aw, hell, let’s just put anythin’ to do with Ms. Bell to one side for a spell an' address the more pressing issue. In your professional view, do you think Taylor can be relied upon to take orders or is he just gonna do whatever he feels like doing, damn the consequences?”

For a long while, the only sound in the oak-panelled study is the ticking of an old grandfather clock. Dr. Anderson seems deep in thought and no one else says anything to interrupt him. When he finally speaks, he looks directly into the cold eyes of ‘Tex’ Trevino.

Anderson: “You want me to tell you whether you should kill my patient?”
Tex: “I don’t rightly know if he’s your patient, now. Sure, you monitored his psychological state at Project Jade Serenity, like all them rest of the trainees, but he never came to you for no treatment, did he?”
Richardson: “We just want your professional analysis of Taylor’s mental state and whether he is dangerous to others. I don’t think it’s unfair that we should have an expert’s opinion available to us when making plans for the future.”
Anderson: “If you need to know whether Chase Taylor kills indiscriminately, you can put your minds at rest. He does not.”
Richardson: “Yet he confessed to two murders he committed last night. To us and, he said, to you. He said he didn’t want you to get in any trouble trying to defend him or make excuses for him. ‘Jes’ tell the truth, doc’ is how he put it.”
Anderson: “You asked for my professional opinion. As you can clearly see in my case files on Taylor, his sense of personal responsibility is overdeveloped. In layman’s terms, while he is quick to rationalise away any failings of others and eager to believe the best of them, he sets himself impossible standards to live by. And when he inevitably fails to live up to his own strict standards of morality, Taylor tends to view his failure as a terrible sin, not merely a consequence of him being human.”

As he talks, Dr. Anderson surreptitiously glances at the three men listening to him to gauge their reactions. He can tell that Wendell Dao really wants to be convinced that Taylor is trustworthy and on their side, probably because the two men had established an immediate rapport when they met at DHS headquarters. Agent Richardson is maintaining a stoic demeanour, but Anderson guesses that he has scant sympathy for Taylor, probably more because of his disregard for organisational policy than for the violence as such.

‘Tex’ Trevino’s blue-grey eyes are entirely empty of either sympathy or dislike and will probably remain exactly as neutral and disinterested even if he decides that the only way out is to murder all the witnesses to the events on Jewell Island.

Anderson: “If we were looking for a simple explanation, his relationship with his father might be a compelling one, but I do not suppose you care one way or another for the whys of the matter. Rather more to the point is that Taylor feels personally responsible for any harm that happens in his vicinity, because he believes that it is his God-given duty to protect anyone and everyone.”
Tex [smiling]: “I’m sure his momma is overjoyed he took his early Sunday School lessons so well to heart, but what I can’t figure is how you get from being properly God-fearin’ to assassinating an unarmed man while being ordered to stand down. Seems to me your boy Taylor gone from the kind of backwoods Christianity that makes lil’ boys take cold showers instead of tuggin’ on their tiny peckers, to the sort of fire-and-brimstone variety that makes some folks consider bombing Planned Parenthood clinics.”
Anderson: “I do not claim to be any kind of expert on the legal aspects of self-defence, but as far as I am aware, Chase Taylor killed two people last night. The commander of an armed revolutionary force against the US government, who had kidnapped federal agents and was in the process of trying to kill Taylor and others. And the man who organised the mutiny and was responsible for planning acts of terrorism on US soil, had kidnapped federal agents and was in the process of giving coded orders to terrorists armed with military weaponry when Taylor shot him. I am sure you know much better than I how that works, legally. All I can tell you is that in my professional judgment, Taylor is constitutionally incapable of indiscriminate killing. He uses lethal force sparingly, with great regret and only to prevent greater harm.”
Richardson: “Is that what we ought to tell Warren Otis’ family?”

[Icelander]

Special Agent Gerald Richardson watches Taylor carefully for a reaction to his question.

Taylor: “Ain’t nobody responsible for what I done but me. I gone an’ made my decision to do as I did. Guilt an’ judgment is for me, not nobody else.”
Richardson: “That is not a no.”
Taylor: “If’n you wanna speculate ‘bout Sherilyn maybe wantin’ them dead, I guess I cain’t stop y’all. All I got to say ‘bout that is that wantin’ ain’t doin’. I was by my lonesome when I done killed them an’ she didn’t have no chance to affect what happened, one way or the other.”
Richardson: “Did Ms. Bell express a desire to see Deputy Warden Bradley Tyrrell or Dr. Bruce Cotton dead?”
Taylor: “Like I said, anythin’ the lady chose to share with me in private about her time here ain’t somethin’ I reckon y’all are entitled to hear ‘less’n she want you to.”
Richardson: “I believe I made it starkly clear to you that while we may not see the inside of a courtroom, we're still dealing with a capital crime. I suggest that you keep in mind that you are, in a sense, on trial for your life.”
Taylor: “Respectfully, sir, Sherilyn Bell ain’t the one you wanna blame here. There’s been no conspiracy an’ her havin’ a reason to want these men dead don’t mean she bears any responsibility when I done kilt them. If’n you feel there’s somethin’ you need to do, for justice, for safety, for expediency, I reckon you gonna do it. Talkin’ about it ain’t gonna make me betray a lady’s confidence or speak of things it ain’t my place to speak of.”
Richardson: “By which you mean ‘yes, she did say that, but she isn't guilty of conspiracy’. You can relax, as it happens. I don’t think anyone is interested in punishing Ms. Bell for wanting the people responsible for her treatment here dead.”

Agent Wong looks faintly shocked that Agent Richardson should give out such information to the prisoner. Prompted by Richardson, Taylor continues his debriefing. As he describes his ‘conversation’ with the rat collective, Wong finds it difficult to conceal her incredulity, but Richardson seems keenly interested in the idea that the rats can not only reason with great facility, but seemed capable of negotiation.

Richardson: “Are you conveying the gist of what you understood the rats to mean or is this your best recollection of what they actually said?”
Taylor: “I reckon it’s a verbatim transcript, sir. I went an’ wrote it up first thing I could, knowing it might could turn out to be important for y’all to know exactly what happened with them rats.”
Richardson: “You were quite right. Do you think anyone else heard them speak?”
Taylor: “I cain’t rightly say, sir. As far as I can figure, my hearing extend to a higher range than most people, but not so far that I would venture to say there’s nobody who could have heard them rats.”
Richardson: “Do you believe that we could capture the sounds on recording devices?”
Taylor: “That oughta work well enough, sir.”
Richardson: “So you don’t think that there was an element of telepathy to their communication?”
Taylor: “Frankly, sir, I don’t believe it done occur to me. I figure there’s lots we don’t rightly know about them drugs they was testing, but nobody told me ‘bout no science-fiction powers. Hearing good an’ smelling out things like a prized coon hound is one thing, but rats using telepathy like space wizards, that’s quite another thing.”
Richardson: “In light of what Dr. Cotton was able to do and how far outside the normal range the behaviour of the rats was otherwise, can you rule it out?”
Taylor: “Guess I cain’t rule nothin’ out, no sir.”

With a contemplative look on his face, Agent Richardson makes some notes. Agent Wong looks at him and Taylor in growing incredulity.

Agent Wong: “You say that you went into the tunnels unarmed, except for the grenade in your pocket, which you didn’t notice you hadn’t left behind until you encountered the rats. Why would you give up all your weapons? And why even go into the tunnels?”
Taylor: “I reckon that when it came down to it, you might could say I was unwillin’ to leave all them people to be eaten by rats.”
Wong: “Even if we accept that unlikely altruistic impulse, why go unarmed?”
Taylor: “Firearm ain’t much use against hundreds of rats, I guess. An’ I jes’ had a powerful disinclination to shoot anybody else. Carrying a weapon ain’t no good if you don’t reckon you’re willin’ to use it.”
Wong: “You certainly didn’t seem hesitant to use it on Dr. Bruce Cotton.”
Taylor: “If you don’t mind me asking, ma’am, have you ever had occasion to fire your service weapon in th’ course o’ your duties?”
Wong: “We’ll ask the questions, Prisoner Taylor.”
Taylor: “It ain’t ever an easy thing. I don’t reckon it oughta be easy, neither. It oughta go against every instinct a man has, pulling that trigger to end a man’s existence, erasing everything he is, everything he ever gonna be. Only, I done found it ain’t any easier when you find yourself wantin’ to do it. You still feel sick to your stomach, only now it ain’t jes’ at what you done, it’s at what you felt. Pullin’ a trigger don’t release hate from your heart an’ all that hate’s gonna go somewhere. It poisons you, hate does, if’n you don’t learn to let it go.”
Richardson: “Leaving your weapons behind helped you let go of that hate?”
Taylor: “God willin’ and the creek don’t rise, sir.”
Richardson: “Would you ever use a weapon again? Again a person?”
Taylor: “I figure it don’t much matter how I feel about it, if’n I’ve gotta choice between letting somebody be hurt an’ doin’ violence to stop it, cain’t really see refusing to act. I wish to God I never face that choice again, but I’ve got me brothers in harm’s way down in Mexico an’ I reckon they’ve got a better chance comin’ out alive if’n I’m there to talk to them.”
Wong: “You really think anyone is going to trust you again? Just hand you a gun and send you to Mexico? Aside from your status as a convict, you killed an unarmed man while your superior was ordering you to stand down!”
Taylor: “I don’t reckon Mr. Townsend is in my chain of command, if’n we were to get technical. I ain’t never disobeyed a lawful order from my legitimate superior. An’ I reckon y’all could trust me well enough, long as you ain’t gonna ask me to suffer evil to be done.”
Richardson: “We asked you to provide us with assistance in convincing certain people to work with us. Nothing more.”
Taylor: “I done what you ordered. An’ I plan to keep doin’ what I’m told, as long as you don’t tell me to do nothin’ that’s plain wrong. As I tole Director Gujarat, I don’t make it no secret that I agreed to help her so I could help my fellow soldiers an’ Ms. Bell. Aside from that, though, I done swore an oath when I enlisted an’ jes’ because I ain’t allowed to wear no uniform no more, I still reckon I’mma bound to defend my country an’ my people. As long as that’s what y’all want too, I reckon we’re on the same side.”
Richardson: “You’ll protect your country, as long as it doesn’t ask anything of it you do not want to give? Is that your definition of patriotism?”
Taylor: “I reckon there’s certain things no country worth protecting ought to ask of a man.”
Richardson: “You’re wrong about that. You have had the luxury of being wrong about that for a while now, but you might not be so lucky much longer.”
Taylor: “I pray I never have to choose between my country and my honour, sir.”

While Taylor and Agent Richardson spoke, Adeline Wong is reviewing something on the screen of a laptop. She turns to Taylor with a stony face.

Agent Wong: “You can dress up your murders in all the piety you want, Prisoner Taylor, but what have you got to say about your other crimes?”
Taylor: “I wish you could jes’ call me Taylor. An’ I’mma real sorry if I done something to offend you, but I don’t recall any other crimes.”
Wong: “What’s your relationship with Sherilyn Bell?”
Taylor: “We’re friends. For my part.”
Wong: “What do you mean by that?”
Taylor: “I mean that we were close friends at Camp Mackall in 1999. I was real surprised when she was involved in Vargas’ escape an’ devastated when she was taken to an asylum where nobody could see her or contact her. I was tole she was catatonic an’ after tryin’ for years to see her, I guess I accepted that the girl I knew was gone. When I found out that wasn’t so an’ that I left her in here all these years… well, I’d do anythin’ to make up for that.”
Wong: “Was your relationship ever sexual?”
Taylor: “No. Before you ask, yeah, I was in love with her. I reckon maybe I still am, but I guess it just ain’t meant to be.”
Wong: “Because she rejected you?”
Taylor: “I never tole her, back when. She knew, of course, an’ I guess, well, I figured she jes’ wasn’t interested in me that way. Or, if she was, by the time I realised, I’d gone and messed things up an’ was with another girl. An’ she musta been seeing Vargas by then.”
Wong: “But when you met her again, last night, you did attempt to make the relationship physical?”

Taylor looks very uncomfortable and guilty.

Taylor: “I know I never shoulda kissed her. In light o’ the situation an’ all she been through, it was wrong, I know.”
Wong: “So you kissed her? She didn’t kiss you?”
Taylor: “I reckon you gonna have to ask her that. It don’t matter anyhow, I oughta know better than to be thinkin’ of… well, you know, when she’s been through all she been through.”
Wong: “So what happened was something she was uncomfortable with?”
Taylor: “It was somethin’ we both agreed shouldna have happened. Fortunately, we done come to our senses before anything more happened.”
Wong: “More?”
Taylor: “It don’t feel right to talk about this, maybe you oughta talk to her about it.”
Wong: “We did.”
Taylor: “Well, then you know what she feels comfortable with y’all knowing an’ I ain’t gonna tell you any more.”
Wong: “You’re going to have to. She says you sexually assaulted her.”