Spook: Confessions of a Psychic Spy by Carlton Holder

Author:Carlton Holder [Holder, Carlton]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Mystery, Thrillers & Suspense, Spies & Politics, Thriller & Suspense, United States, Historical, Thrillers, African American, Espionage, Literature & Fiction, Mystery; Thriller & Suspense
Amazon: B00Q75A778
Publisher: Brooklyn Apache Press
Published: 2014-11-25T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter Nine

The Triumvirate

Istanbul, Turkey

September 22nd, 1962

The psychic spy put all thoughts of the past aside, all the moments that had led up to this moment: the southern belle’s murder, the harsh prison, recruitment, his funeral, training, Marilyn, the Pera Palace, the bombshell, the rocket scientist, Orly, the thugs in the alley. None of it mattered now. John Henry was alone, literally out in the cold. And by some bizarre unraveling of fortune, he had wandered onto an old carnival out of town, that had been closed down for the season.

John had slept there for the past three nights while he recovered and tried to figure out what to do, living off the seasonal edibles that were still edible. He had had his fill of cotton candy and soda pop, enough to last a lifetime.

Still, it was sustenance.

The carnival was old world, something right out of another era. The psychic spy could imagine it coming to life all around him. The many colored lights, the games of chance, the clowns, the polished wooden faces of the horses on the merry-go-round, the old metal rides with squeaky hinges that only added to the thrill, the trapeze performers strutting around in their colorful skin-tight leotards when not swinging wildly from death-defying heights, the funhouse, and sideshows. The carnival would be populated with parents and their jubilant children, swarms of adolescent boys showing off for their teen girlfriends. John had only been to one carnival in his youth and it was a big deal. He had gone there with Etta when they were still in high school. Now, that summer of his youth with the woman he loved was gone. It was the winter of his adulthood. And he was alone.

John was involved in an adventure, but it was an adventure he had no feeling for. America and the Soviet Union were becoming more and more the same to him. We fight for democracy. They fight for communism. The ideologies were polar opposites, but the tactics were exactly the same. America fought for freedom throughout the world, while it oppressed people in its own country because of the color of their skin.

What the hell am I doing here? John thought. Then just as quickly, he shook those thoughts out of his head. Maybe a trace element of the scientist’s mind yet lingered in his psyche. Now he knew how Doyle and Doctor Putnam had felt when he violated their minds.

No! There could be no room for doubt. John Henry convinced himself he was doing the right thing. The patriotic thing. The world hung in the balance. Flawed democracy was still preferable to perfect communism. John had heard President Kennedy’s speeches and he had believed. Still, how would Kennedy react if he knew John had just executed a foreign private citizen on holiday, on orders from a program within the Outfit? In his mind, John rationalized that on some level Kennedy had to know about all of this, even if he didn’t know the dirty details.

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