“This Research Program as been actively underway since the middle of 1952 and has gathered considerable momentum during the past few months. It is now evident on the basis of work currently underway that approximately 94% of the projects contemplated can be handled through regular procurement channels by means of the customary contracts signed jointly by the Agency and the organization undertaking to carry out the work. It has also become apparent that approximately 6% of the projects are of such an ultra-sensitive nature that they cannot and should not be handled by means of contracts which would associate CIA or Government with the work in question. This 6% of the current research effort now lies entirely within two well-defined fields of endeavor, namely:
(a) Research to develop a capability in the covert use of biological and chemical materials. This area involves the production of various psychological conditions which could support present or future clandestine operations . Aside from the offensive potential, the development of a comprehensive capability in this field of covert chemical and biological warfare gives us a thorough knowledge of the enemy’s theoretical potential, thus enabling us to defend ourselves against a foe who might not be as restrained in the use of these techniques as we are. For example: we intend to investigate the deveolpment of a chemical material which causes a reversible non-toxic aberrant mental state, the the specific nature of which can be reasonably well predicted for each individual. This material could potentially aid in discrediting individuals, eliciting information, implanting suggestion and other forms of mental control;
(b)
”
- Report of Inspection of MKULTRA, July 26, 1963
HACKENSACK, NEW JERSEY
SEPTEMBER 5, 2010
Tonight there was only the alarm to greet him when he came home. He turned it off and stepped back outside into the fast-approaching night to get the paper. Laura wasn’t home yet, and Denise was working another late night.
He tossed the paper, still slick from the afternoon’s rain, onto his living room table. He shut the door and momentarily forgot where he put the keys. He grumbled and started to look for them, probably dropped in the couch when he momentarily sat to take a breather. The whole room seemed to smell like rain. Bringing the paper in was a bad idea, he guessed.
And that’s when a shadow came into view. He first thought that a light had gone out, but no. Instead there was a man holding a gun on him.
“Freeze,” said the man, his voice more like a pair of rocks grinding together.
He could see that the man was wearing a poncho and some kind of mask. He couldn’t see his eyes, but he could see his hands, clad in fingerless gloves with black tape over the tips. The gun looked real enough, and it was topped with a silencer.
“Ryan McCormack,” said the intruder.
“What the–” said Ryan.
“Shut up. Sit down.”
Ryan fell back onto the living room couch. He reflexively put his hands up.
“What do you want?” he asked.
“Nothing. Look at the table. Read,” said the intruder, gesturing with his pistol.
Ryan looked blankly at the newspaper. “Under it,” said the intruder. He pushed the paper aside, revealing a manila folder.
He picked it up, glancing again at the intruder and finally getting a good look at his mask. There was a wretched black smear across the bottom, forming a crude smile. He flipped through the folders contents; there wasn’t much, but he could see right away that they were important, for they featured the Oltramonti name in connection with someone from the Governor’s office. It didn’t take long for him to see what this guy wanted.
“Where’d you get this?” asked Ryan.
“Don’t matter. You have a job to do,” said the intruder.
“I do? And what’s that?” asked Ryan.
“Don’t fuck around. You’re right in the DA’s office. Make sure Warner goes down.”
“I can’t use this,” said Ryan, tossing the folder back on the table. “There’s no fucking way I’d explain how I got this, so it can’t be used in court.”
“No shit, but now you know where to look. Catch him on the next transfer. It’ll be easy.”
Ryan looked away at the nearby end table. It was light enough for him to see his wedding picture. He and Denise were smiling at him.
“I don’t get it,” he said. “Who are you? Who sent you?”
“What does it matter? You got a serious crime staring you in the face. You have to ask what to do with it?”
“So, so what? Is this a favor from one of Oltramonti’s rivals? You want me to clip one of his big earners?”
“What is the fucking holdup?” said the intruder, his gun starting to twitch.
“I dunno,” said Ryan, his voice rising. “Maybe you breaking into my home and putting a gun on me?”
“Shut up,” said the intruder. “You want to know what this is? It’s like this: Warner is doing very, very bad things. He’s corrupt as all fuck. And I know all about it. He has to go down, plain and simple. As for Oltramonti, you can do whatever you want with him. Means nothing to me.”
Ryan thought for a moment. “So you want me to prosecute the Governor, and then what? You’ll leave me alone?”
“Don’t know. Probably. Just do the job.”
Ryan looked back at the papers. His head began shaking, and he heard the intruder scoff.
“Let me make this clear: You don’t have a choice. If you don’t do this, if you don’t do your duty, you’re dead. This is no game. This is not a fucking game or joke.”
It was now that Ryan started sweating. He leaned back, trying to make sense of the situation. He was too damned tired from the day to process all this, even with the simple sight of the gun on him.
“Can take all night to consider it, but I say again, you have no choice. You will pounce on Warner as early as you can. And this is great for you. Can finally move on up in the office, make a name for yourself.”
“Are you for real?” asked Ryan. “Are you f–”
He was interrupted by the double-beep of the alarm, announcing that the front door had opened. Laura stepped in, hauling her knapsack off her back. “Dad?” she said, closing the door behind her. “What’s for–”
She stopped when she saw the intruder. He jumped to his feet, putting the gun on her. “Freeze!” he said.
Laura gripped her knapsack in front of her like a shield. Her jaw clinched and her eyes went wide. She began to whimper, and the intruder rushed her, the palm of his free hand aiming for her mouth. He awkwardly shoved her into the wall, and she bounced back into him. He flung her to the ground, in the process losing his gun, which slid across the carpeted floor. He pounced on her back.
“Dad!” she managed to say as she flailed about. The intruder’s back was to Ryan, so he pounced. The second he touched the intruder’s burlap head, he took a solid elbow to the upper chest, then another to the ribs that sent him back onto the couch, gasping desperately.
Laura rolled onto her side and swiped at the intruder, still distracted by Ryan. Her fingernails just caught the eyeholes of his mask, pulling it away from his face. He blindly reached for her neck as she struggled underneath. “Dad!” she yelled again.
Ryan felt the pain in his chest. He wanted to go at the intruder again, but there was the nagging suspicion that he was having a heart attack. Instead, he looked over at the gun sitting on the floor, not far away. He could hear himself pleading to go for it, but his body would not obey.
The intruder knocked Laura’s hand off his mask and, still blinded, grabbed her by the hair. He slid off of her and jerked her to her feet, then put her in a headlock. She could only weakly punch him in the knee, to no effect. When he got his bearings together, he punched her solidly in the stomach, silencing her with a loud gasp. He then tossed her into Ryan.
The intruder pulled his mask back into place, though it was now stretched. He pulled it back tight against his face, revealing a pair of large, veiny eyes with tiny black pupils. He snorted at the two of them, hyperventilating on the couch, then rushed over to his gun. He knelt and pointed it at them, using the living room table for support. For a few seconds, he and Ryan stared each other down, and only the sound of heavy breathing could be heard.
“Goddammit…” said the intruder at last.
“Get out of my house,” said Ryan. “Just get the fuck out of here, please!”
“No,” said the intruder. “No, I’m glad she showed up, because you’re just not getting it, McCormack. Just look at those documents. You’ll see. Warner’s a bad guy, Oltramonti’s a bad guy; all that money going to the mob, what do you think they’ll do with it?”
“Why can’t you just go to the police, then?” asked Ryan.
“You’ve been on your job for 17 years, so don’t fuck with me. The cops won’t do shit until they have to. You can make them. You gotta bring Warner down. Besides, he has something I need.”
“Like what?”
“Warner and Oltramonti aren’t just passing around bucks. They’re doing very bad things, and they ain’t the only ones. I need you to bring in Warner first, then we’ll go from there.”
“‘We?’ Goddammit, you can’t just drag me into whatever fucking–”
“Better get wise, McCormack,” said the intruder, almost yelling. “You think about what you’re doing if you let these fucks get off. Oltramonti’s a killer. Warner’s helping him. Warner’s helping him do a lot of shit to hurt people like you and me. You let him walk, and you make the world a lot more dangerous for your daughter there. Is that the kind of father you are?”
Ryan looked down at Laura, who was clutching him, her fingernails digging into his shoulders. Her breathing steadied, and she was very still, hiding her face behind in his chest.
“Got no choice, McCormack. Warner and his business are a lot bigger than you. So think about what you’re doing when you say ‘no’ to me,” said the intruder.
“Okay, so what if I say yes, then?”
“Then you get a nice fat ticket to stardom for doing something right. Fucking privilege, I say. You’ll be a hero.”
“To who? You?”
“I don’t give a shit about you or your boring problems. So I’m giving you a nice big problem. Listen up: You got until next Friday to nail Warner’s balls to the wall. If he’s not indicted by then, I’ll take that as a ‘no’ and wipe you out. I have a rather large bomb planted somewhere in this house, and I can trigger it at any time from anywhere. It should be enough to take this place down.”
“Are you fucking serious?”
“I’ve thought this through, McCormack, so shut up. If you or any of your family escape, I’ll make it a point to hunt you down. This is not a volunteer project, and sorry if this offends, but you seem to be the only decent guy I can find who can do this for me. Don’t prove me wrong.”
There was some silence while the intruder fixed his drooping mask again. “Another thing: Don’t even think about telling anyone else about this. Don’t call the cops, don’t tell your boss, nobody. I’ve got this place bugged fairly well, so if any cops come in here looking for traces of me or anything, I’ll know. And if you don’t believe me, your wife’s Lexapro is ready at the shop.
“Don’t fuck with me, McCormack. Your only options are to die or do the right thing, so count yourself lucky. And if you think this is bad, then take another look at those documents and tell me that out of me, Oltramonti and Warner, I’m the most dangerous. You’ll see.”
With that, the intruder got up and started retreating towards the back door. “Remember, I’ll be watching,” he said. After a few more steps, he turned and dashed off. Ryan could hear the door close softly.
It was several minutes before Laura, still cold from the sweat on her and still feeling the pain from the punch, pushed herself off her dad. Ryan looked at her, almost forgetting she was there.
“Laura?” he asked.
“Dad,” she said, not able to look him in the eyes. “You fucking coward…” She then walked slowly to her room.
At last, he picked the documents up and headed for the kitchen, his routine once again kicking in. He’d have to look at them again later as his mind was mostly blank now.
Inside the kitchen, he saw the phone and the answering machine attached to it. The red light was blinking, so he pushed the button.
“Hello, Mrs. McCormack? This is Rite-Aid. We have your Lexapro ready when you want to pick it up. Thank you.”
He looked again at the documents, then around room. Nothing looked out of the ordinary at all.
