Justification For Killing (39 page)

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Authors: Larry Edward Hunt

Tags: #time travel, #kennedy assasination, #scifi action adventure

BOOK: Justification For Killing
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Speaking quietly to the
Captain, Si Lei finished his telephone conversation with his
“wife,” turned to Sam Lin and whispered, “Sam Lin, the Director
said he tried to speak to the FBI Chief of the Legats at the U.S.
Embassy here in Bangkok, but the Chief was away on Embassy
business. He could do nothing but leave a message with his
secretary to be given to the Embassy Chief on his return. He only
informed the Legat Chief we were coming and asked if they would
provide assistance in the investigation of Ryan Rousseau. He was
unfamiliar with Katrina Ryabov, and had never spoken with the CIA
chief.”


Sam Lin, remind me again,
what is a Legat?”


The FBI does not have
separate offices in foreign countries, they must work out of the
U.S. Embassy, and as such their offices are called ‘Legal Attachés’
or ‘Legats’.”

After a couple of minutes,
standing in the cafe door way with Si Lei talking to his “wife” the
two brothers re-entered the restaurant and returned to the table
where Kat was exhaling the blue smoke from yet another
cigarette.


Everything okay at home?
She said flicking the ashes into an ornate ashtray sitting on their
table.


Okay Miss Kat, Mrs.
Ryabov or whoever you are. The game is up! We have just talked with
our Director, and we have been informed that you are not a CIA
agent! Is this correct?” Sam Lin demanded.


Sam Lin the Director did
not — ” Si Lei said trying to tell Sam Lin the Director did not say
anything about Katrina Ryabov, except he had never heard of
her.


I know... I know Si Lei,”
Sam Lin said cutting off Si Lei, “the Director said Kay Ryabov was
definitely not an operative for the CIA. Was he lying Miss
Who-ever-you-are?”

Shamefully, Miss Ryabov
sat with her head bowed. Tears were beginning to form as she began
to speak, “No... no he was telling the truth!! I am not a CIA
agent, it is true, but I do work for the FBI; whoever, I am not an
agent. It was I whom your Director spoke to when he called to speak
with my boss the Legal Attaché’s Chief. I am merely his secretary,
I took the note saying you both were coming to Bangkok to
investigate Ryan Rousseau.”


Why? Why Miss
Ry....”


No, as I said, please
call me Kat... Katrina Sokolov is my real name, but I have always
used Kat.”


Why Miss Sokolov (still
being formal), did you try to deceive us? What did you hope to
gain?”


Gentlemen, I know you
will not believe what I am going to tell you, but I swear by all
that is holy, it is the truth.” For the next hour or so she
explained how her grandfather Dr. Joseph Rusnak, a Russian by birth
had surrendered to the American army close to the end of World War
II. The American Office of Strategic Services, the OSS, at first,
did not utilize his medical skills and only used him as an
interpreter. He did this job, thanklessly, until the war ended at
which time the U.S. officials made a decision – to return him to
Russian. Before they sent him back to Russian, they discovered he
was a highly trained Psychiatrist. Not only did he have a Doctorate
in Psychiatry but he was schooled in the field of Psychoanalysis
also.


They realized his field
of study included understanding psychoanalytic therapy that relied
on patterns of both conscious and unconscious feelings and
thoughts. The OSS also understood his goal of treatment was to make
the unknown known so the patient could begin to recognize patterns
of thinking, feeling and behavior, which was no longer relevant to
their life situation. As a Psychoanalysis, he usually dealt with
emotional issues affecting the mind and the patient’s well being.
His skill as a Psychiatrist dealt with the treatment of mental,
emotional, or behavioral problems of his patients.”


Sam Lin? Didn’t the OSS
later become the CIA?” Si Lei asked.


Yes, Si Lei, very
true.”


Do you see why my
grandfather was a perfect choice for a project like
MK-ULTRA?”


Yes, very interesting, go
on Miss Sokolov.”


MK-ULTRA had not yet
begun when the OSS assigned him duties in the mind-control
research, but it wasn’t too many years until that black-ops program
began officially. Grandfather was enthusiastic and grateful to be
employed in a field allowing him to use his formal training;
however, at first his work was theoretical but later they forced
him to employ his research on real human subjects. His enthusiasm
turned to disappointment as he realized the harm he and others in
the MK-ULTRA program were doing to their test subjects.


At first he went along
with his, then OSS, superiors, but he became more and more
disillusioned with his and the other doctor’s work. Finally, he
made up his mind: the mind-control method using both legal and
illegal drugs, and chemicals on their subjects was morally wrong.
He was opposed to using hypnotism, sensory deprivation, verbal or
sometimes sexual abuse, and totally against the use of torture to
achieve the OSS/CIA mind-altering goals.


As you can imagine his
meeting with his superiors did not go well, and as you can further
guess, it did not end well either. As you might have surmised by
now, there never was a Doctor Fred Osborn. I made him up - Doctor
Fred Osborn was the name I used for my grandfather Doctor Joseph
Rusnak!! The CIA murdered him!”


Okay,” said Sam Lin. “Now
I am beginning to see the picture. Now, tell us how you got
involved.”


My mother was twelve
years old when Grandfather was murdered. She never got over his
death - she died right after I was born. I was born in 1984, and
Mama died in 1985. My Father sent me to the United States to live
with my aunt, I never saw my Papa again.”


Dog-gone-it, Sam Lin,
that’s the same year we were born!”


Yes Si Lei you are
correct, go on Kat.”


The Agency killed my
grandfather and indirectly caused the early death of my mother, and
I don’t know, they may have killed my Father also, so I was raised
without the benefit of love from any of them. Once I got of age I
determined I was going to avenge all of their deaths.”


Avenge or
revenge?”


Revenge, if you want to
call it, I prefer to call it “Justice”. I obtained a Major in
Criminal Justice and Minor in Foreign Languages. After graduation,
I obtained a job with the FBI in Washington. I wanted to work as an
Office Manager, not a Special Agent. I thought I would have a
better opportunity to dig into the FBI records without drawing
attention to myself in an office position. After a few years in
Washington, I requested a transfer to Bangkok. With my knowledge of
the local language, I was able to land a position in the Chief’s
office of the Legal Attaché.”


All right Kat, I believe
we are all on the same page now. Tell us more.”


Okay, as I have already
said, I found out Ryan Rousseau was Chief of the Office of Cerebral
Information and Intelligence. I also found out the CII section was
just another name for MK-ULTRA. Rousseau was the man I was after,
but after he had left Bangkok, I was never able to find out where
he went because his file was sealed. That is, not until your boss
gave me his name in his telephone call to my boss saying you both
were coming over here seeking information on him. I devised my
charade hoping to find out more about that devil Rousseau. That was
the reason for my prying into your business. I thought if I
pretended to be a CIA agent you might divulge more information to
me.”


Thank you... thank you
Kat for being honest with us. I believe Si Lei will agree, working
together will be beneficial to both our causes. Let me say, we
weren’t at all honest and up front with you either – Ryan Rousseau
is not up for a promotion in our SCAR organization. He is the Chief
of the Experimental Design Division in our Washington headquarters,
that is a fact, and he has been there since SCAR was formed in the
late ‘60s. Our Director Robert Scarburg, the one you talked to
believes Mr. Rousseau tried to kill him, and he further believes
Rousseau is a “mole,” his only question is - a mole for whom? And
he would like to know for what reason? Our Director also believes
MK-ULTRA may provide the answers. Kat could I ask you a
question?”


Certainly, anything to
help.”


Do you have any proof of
your grandfather’s involvement with the MK-ULTRA project?
Especially proof that the OSS or CIA was involved.”


Yes I do. I have a
leather satchel full of my grandfather’s papers in a storage locker
at my condo. I have read a lot of his notes, but my main emphasis
was to find Mr. Rousseau. If I could have found Rousseau, I was
going to expose him for the fiend he is. I wanted to put him to
shame - yes, I wanted to make him hurt like I have hurt all my
life. I had even imagined I would kill him when I found the hole he
was hiding in.”


Kat, would it be possible
for us to see those documents? You were taking a look at Rousseau
in connection with MK-ULTRA, we have a new set of eyes, which might
see something you missed.”


It is getting late – if
you both will allow, I will take you to my condo and you can search
through Grandfather’s papers. As you both look through the satchel
I will prepare dinner - how does a good, hot, home cooked, meal
sound?”

For the first time in the
last couple of hours, Si Lei heard something he liked, “Food!! Yes,
sounds great to me.”

The time was 4:45 p.m.
Saturday, December 1, 2012.

 

KAT’S CONDO 2B

 

Leaving the Bangkok
International Airport in Kat’s Cadillac STS-V8 Si Lei could not
stop complimenting her about how cool her automobile was. “Si Lei
please be quite,” said Sam Lin, “you’re embarrassing Ms. Sok...
Sok... uh... Kat.”


No,
it’s okay. It
is
a nice car. I bought it from an FBI employee who was being
transferred back to the U.S. I got it at a great bargain;
otherwise, I would not have able to afford it.”

As Si Lei rubbed his hand
across the soft, black leather seats, they continued to drive north
until Miss Sokolov reached Highway Seven. A left turn, then
thirty-four kilometers and forty-five minutes later they pulled
into the parking lot of the Tiboon Condo Town cluster of
townhouses. Her apartment building was an attractive, European
style, eighteen unit, three-floor complex designed for the foreign
clientele working in Bangkok.

Opening the driver’s door
she stepped down to the asphalt pavement of the parking lot,
remarking, “I’m on the 2nd floor, apartment 2B. The storage lockers
are in the basement. I use locker 3B also since the apartment above
me is being renovated. The locker space is unused, so what they
don’t know doesn’t hurt them, right? I need the extra storage. Well
actually, renovate, may be a stretch,” she continued. “The
construction has been going on for two years, and it is still not
completed. The workmen evidently work on their own peculiar
Thailand time schedule.”

The three walked up the
sidewalk to the entrance, “Please push the buzzer for my apartment.
Malita, my roommate will buzz us in.”

Once... twice... three
times Si Lei pressed the apartment button labeled ‘2B’. There was
no response – there was no ‘buzz’ to open the locked main entrance
door. “I don’t understand, today is Saturday? Malita does not work
on the weekend. She should be here. I wonder why she will not
‘buzz’ us in? Hold on, I’ll get my key to open the
door.”

Apartment 2B was the
apartment on the right at the first landing. The door was slightly
ajar. Kat and Si Lei were motioned to stop by Sam Lin as he slowly
pushed on the white painted, steel, supposedly, burglarproof door
with his foot. Swinging open the door a few inches allowed him to
see inside, it was dark; the lights were off.

A pungent smell from
inside the apartment drifted to his nose. Sam Lin cocked his head
and sniffed again. He had smelled this nauseous odor before - it
was easy to recognize - Thailand, Vietnam, Cambodia... death has
the same repugnant stench in every country. He was sorry to say he
remembered it remarkably well from each of these places. As
operatives for the Company, both he and Si Lei had been assigned
numerous missions in and out of all these countries during the
Vietnam War where Death accompanied them as their constant
companion.


Please stay out here Kat
- come on Si Lei,” pushing open the door the two men were standing
in a once fashionably furnished and decorated apartment’s living
room. Now it was a shamble. Furniture was askew, couch pillows had
been thrown in all directions; slits had been cut in the seat
cushions. The end table drawers and all their contents had been
dumped unceremoniously onto the floor. Trash and the remains of
furniture were strewn everywhere.


Looks like someone was
searching for something?” Si Lei said, kicking some of the debris
aside on the floor.


What gave you the first
clue Sherlock?” replied Sam Lin sarcastically.

Switching on the lights he
turned to the open entranceway, and motioned for Kat to enter. “Did
you tell anyone you were meeting us last night?”

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