Chapter Twenty

 

Another three days had passed since Ryan was found, three days since the truth about Hadley, not to mention the explosion, had left Susan in a state of shock. Now, Sidney became anxious to leave the hospital; he could recover just as well in bed at home. Dr. Talbot had taken it as a good sign; Sidney was even up and walking for a brief period every day. But today, he ordered that Sidney be brought to Wiley’s meeting in a wheelchair.

Sidney dreaded having to listen to the details of what Wiley had uncovered regarding Hadley, or Mark, that is. He worried about how much more of the details Susan could bear. How much more could her already broken heart endure? She had been released yesterday, and Sidney was allowed to see her beforehand, with his nurse and a wheelchair, of course. It was the first time he’d seen her since the explosion.

She appeared forlorn, distracted by some vivid world of past memories that kept her prisoner. Her eyes were lifeless, devoid of that spark that made her Susan.

“Hello, Sidney,” she said to him in a flat, even tone. “How are you?”

“Not me,” he said. “How are you?”

She shrugged.

“You were right, Sidney. It was him, and all these years I’d wondered...” Her words were slow, dramatically drawn, her eyes squinting and gazing indirectly, remembering the years. She shook her head and looked at him.

“I’ll be all right, Sidney, just going to take some getting over. I still don’t believe it,” she said, now looking him straight in the eyes.

“I know,” he said. “But we are all here for you, Susan, especially me.”

Now, he was being wheeled to the meeting in the lounge where it had all begun. Wiley felt that it was more suitable than squeezing everyone into Sidney’s room. Susan would be there, as well as the team, Ryan and Annie, and this young woman that he kept hearing about, who helped find Ryan.

His nurse propped the lounge door open and wheeled him inside. Everyone’s faces met his, as though he were the awaited guest, yet he wasn’t. Susan was there, looking a little better than the day before, but expressionless, saddened. Dylan, Brett, Leah, and Annie were standing alongside a short young woman with dark hair and beautiful eyes.

“Sidney, this is Ursula,” Dylan said, introducing her. She stepped forward and extended her hand, offering a handshake.

Sidney reached from the chair and shook her hand.

“Ursula, this is Sidney Pratt,” Dylan concluded.

“Ursula, what a beautiful name,” Sidney said, as Dylan cleared his throat, and Brett and Leah hung their heads, biting their lips.

“Thank you,” she said. “It’s so nice to meet you, Sidney.”

“Thank you, Ursula, for all you’ve done for Ryan and for us. You’re a real hero or heroine...” She laughed at his flattery. “So, I hear you’re quite the clairaudient?”

“Yes, well, I’ve heard the same of you,” she said.

“Yeah, well, let’s compare notes sometime soon.” Sidney’s voice no longer threatened to provoke laughter from his colleagues.

“I’d love to,” she said.

Ryan hugged Sidney when he saw him, and they all exchanged greetings, then changed the subject, while they waited for Wiley to arrive.

* * * *

Wiley rode in the elevator on his way to the lounge. He dreaded this meeting only because of Susan Logan, but this mystery was about to be revealed once and for all, and the sooner the better. Susan was about to discover everything that had happened to Mark, and it was all because of the envelope he held in his hand.

Since the explosion, the Bureau had obtained something they were never in possession of before, during the investigation of Roman Hadley: his true identity. Once they began to investigate the name Mark Banner, the mystery of Roman Hadley had unfolded. The group had worked wonders in eradicating his true identity, but Mark had left something behind, something they hadn’t noticed.

He hadn’t kept a journal; that would have been too risky. But he did manage to document his entire story, leaving it behind in a twenty page letter addressed to Susan Logan. It had been uncovered in a safety deposit box in a bank in Pittsburgh, and now Wiley would deliver it to Susan, though not before explaining the story to everyone. He stuck the letter back in his inner jacket pocket; he would hand it to her after he spoke, deciding it was more appropriate.

Perspiration gathered on his forehead at the given task.

Tensions seemed to both ease and stir as he opened the door to the lounge and entered; expectant faces stared back at him in anticipation. He asked everyone to be seated so that he could begin.

The younger members of the group sat around the table, except Leah, who took a seat next to Susan on the couch.

“Let me start by saying that you all know how and why we became involved in what occurred this past week, and why we’re here. A man most of you knew as a university benefactor and head coordinator of the Paranormal Research and Investigative Society kidnapped a young boy. The man you knew of as Roman Hadley was an imposter.

“Hadley was using the society as a cover for his real involvement with a rogue group of psychics, once part of the FBI’s remote psychic studies until they disappeared into thin air, having evaded us for many years. They’d been conducting remote viewing and listening studies on their own and committing various acts of espionage, all through the use of psychic abilities.”

This is the part that made him squeamish. He looked at Susan, as though cuing her to be ready.

“Hadley’s real identity was that of Mark Steven Banner, a former associate of our friend, Dr. Logan.” Wiley regretted using the formality of associate; he never meant to minimize who Mark was to her. Normally, he wouldn’t have given it a second thought, but he’d become fond of Susan Logan.

“We now have reason to believe that Hadley, or should I say, Mark’s involvement was not entirely voluntary. We’ve discovered falsified documents stating that Mark Banner was classified MIA during Vietnam. In fact, he had never been a POW. The group had abducted him from Vietnam, after an incident took place over there that roused attention to his psychic ability, an ability of which, Dr. Logan, I assume you were aware?”

His tone was rational and appeasing when he asked her. She cast her eyes downward then stood and walked to the coffee bar, her back turned.

“I’d assumed he’d died; I never saw any need to mention that he was a clairaudient. When Sidney first heard Mark, I wanted to know more, but I didn’t tell him why. Sidney had assumed Mark was dead because as a child, he only knew he was capable of hearing the dead speak to him.” A brief pause filled the room as she stirred her coffee. “We were going to be married, but he never came home.” Her voice sounded lost, and when another appropriate pause had passed, Wiley continued.

“Eventually, the group threatened him and his loved ones, forcing him to remain, to live out his life toward their goals and the exploration of who he was psychically. They even resorted to blackmail, framing him as an accomplice, much as he’d almost done to Ursula, even threatening to twist the story of how he got there and threatening him with court marshal.

“The group had assigned him a new identity, that of Roman Hadley, an FBI agent; the cover would pass for many years under our noses. The years of his compliance were luxuriously compensated with whatever he wanted; however, it didn’t compensate for the life that was stolen from him, nor the love that was stolen from him.”

He spoke those words in Susan’s direction. She was listening while her eyes were gazing at the opposite wall; she’d been transfixed in thought ever since he mentioned Mark’s loved ones being threatened.

“He searched for a way out, but the hierarchy of authority within this group changed hands over the years, constantly monitoring his every move, probing his thoughts with their own telepathic minds, clairaudient ears, and watchful eyes. He became virtually a psychic prisoner.

“Through the years, Hadley’s clairaudient and telepathic abilities had waned. He was not as useful in his latter age to the group as he once was. After studying Sidney Pratt for many years, a new possibility presented itself to Hadley and the group.”

“Ryan,” Sidney interjected.

“Yes,” Wiley said. “With the discovery of Ryan, the group found someone that could possibly take them to heights never reached before, and Hadley also got a way out, that is, if they would have let him go. You see, they needed Hadley to run things; we’re sure of that. But what we’re unable to understand is why these people could not be a visible factor in their operation. It was so clandestine that Hadley himself mimicked the anonymity with the paranormal society. Why couldn’t these people be seen?

“Hadley was eventually torn between bargaining, that is, trading himself for Ryan, or mutinying, disappearing, and leaving Ryan behind to be discovered. The growing amount of pressure he was under was insurmountable, possibly edging him toward a breakdown.”

“Well, wait a minute,” Sidney said. “How do you know all of this?” The other investigators looked at Wiley with the same curiosity. He pulled the envelope from his pocket.

“Hadley had left behind a long letter for Dr. Logan,” he said, watching her turn her face sideways to him. “He explains everything from the very beginning into today. I am sorry that we had to intercept the letter, Susan, but it is evidence in an investigation. At this point, the original copy now belongs to you.”

He handed it to her, and she simply stared at her name on the opened envelope written in Mark’s handwriting. Wiley could see that she didn’t have the courage to read it now; she would save it for later.

“Susan,” Wiley said. “There is more to the blackmail than just the frame-up job. I think if I reveal it now, it would be better for you to hear it that way. It’s your call.”

“Go ahead,” she said, taking a deep breath and sitting back down.

“They played a Catch-22 game with Mark, enticing him to cooperate with false promises of returning home. One of his captors at the time was a former agent, once part of the group that broke away from the Bureau’s studies; his name was Foster. Foster accused Mark of killing his accomplice, Caleb West, a remote viewer also once with the FBI program.

“Mark had discovered a hidden unique ability known as telepathic intrusion, and when he focused it on Caleb, it resulted in his death from a cerebral hemorrhage. Foster decided to eliminate Mark, whom he now considered to be a liability or loose cannon.

“When Foster tried to kill Mark, Mark responded as a soldier and defended himself, or at least, what he describes in the letter is self defense. Mark killed Foster, as well as another accomplice, a woman named Myra. And so the blackmail continued for years.”

“I’ve come to a conclusion on my own, Agent Wiley,” Sidney spoke up. “I think Hadley, not understanding this thing called telepathic intrusion, caused my own episode. We know now that he was listening to us, remotely, the night of Tracy Kimball’s accident; my headaches began shortly after that.”

“Sidney, he would never have intended—” Susan said.

“I know,” Sidney said. “But isn’t it ironic that he died the same way as Caleb?”

“He’d been trying to get inside my mind,” Ryan said, nervously. “As he was trying to read my thoughts, something happened to him; the blood just started flowing from his nose, like something stopped him.”

Silence filled the room as they all looked at the boy, realizing that the strange inheritance had been passed on, and that what went around had come back around.

“I wonder what it was,” he said.

“I have a very good idea what, or who, it was,” Leah said. No one said another word.

* * * *

After the meeting was over, Wiley bid his goodbyes to everyone, and Annie thanked him one last time for finding her son.

“You stay safe, Ryan.” he said. “Don’t let this bring you down. Keep up your work with the team and Dr. Logan. They will help you through this.”

“He will,” Annie said. “I’ll make sure this time.”

The three of them left the hospital, and as Annie and Ryan drove home, the boy broke the awkward silence that seemed to be setting in everywhere.

“Mom, you know what I think? I think Dad somehow saved me. I wasn’t hearing him for awhile, but I think he was there.”

Annie smiled at how smart her son was.

“I think so too, Ryan. I really do.”

* * * *

Susan and the rest of the team, including Ursula, gathered in Sidney’s room. Dr. Talbot had just given Sidney the news that he could be released the next day, so long as he abided by the doctor’s orders of complete bed rest, no stress, and to keep all of his ensuing medical appointments.

The team assured him that they would look after Sidney, and Talbot left the room. Then, they motioned for Dylan to make the respective announcements.

“Susan,” he said. “I have heard word from the society’s sponsors, as of today. They, along with the rest of us, are unanimous in concluding that we would like you to assume the position of the society’s coordinator. We feel that you are the best choice to lead our efforts.”

Susan looked at them.

“You mean, replace Roman Hadley?”

“That’s right,” Dylan said.

“I accept.” Her answer was quick, assertive.

“Also, I’d like to congratulate Ursula,” Dylan said. “We have asked her to come and work and explore with us, and she has agreed.”

A light applause was directed at her.

“Thank you,” she said. “Though I’m sure between my studies and work, my attendance will be sporadic, but I am thrilled and excited.”

“We are happy to have you,” Dylan said.

“That’s right,” Sidney said. “And now that I’ll be going home, maybe you can come over with the rest of the team and fill us in on your story?”

She agreed, and Susan noticed as three kids parading in costume for the patients entered Sidney’s room and called in a not-so-loud voice...

“Trick-or-Treat!”

“Halloween, already,” Susan said. “I’m so glad that we can call an end to this horrible month once and for all.”

And all agreed.