Deliver Us From Evil
by
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Bea Fresquez and Major Hollingsworth landed at Vandenberg AFB late on the 6th. The major was informed at the ground transportation desk that it was too late to get a ride to the hospital or to gain entry to the secure ward where Tom had been admitted. Bea’s suspicions, already aroused, were now in full gear.
"You can arrange to fly me out here at a moment’s notice in an executive jet, but you can’t arrange ground transportation until tomorrow morning?" she exploded at no one in particular. "What kind of game is this?"
"Bea, it’s not a game, and I assure you that I’m doing all I can," said Major Hollingsworth.
Bea didn’t answer. Indeed, she said very little as the two of them ate at the O-Club at Vandenberg, and then checked into the visitor’s hotel. The two women, although strangers to each other, were put in the same room. It seemed that there were no other vacancies. Bea noticed that Major Hollingsworth was keeping her on a short leash.
They were at the hospital at 7:30 the next morning, and were let onto the ward where Captain Fresquez was assigned. The major left Bea alone with Tom while she hovered, along with a couple of nurses, at a discrete distance.
Less than thirty minutes later Bea emerged from Tom’s room visibly shaken. As soon as the door to the ward closed behind them, she collapsed into a chair and sobbed. Major Hollingsworth tried unsuccessfully to comfort her, but Bea wept copiously for what must have been another half an hour.
"Did you know how he was?" she asked eventually.
"Only what they told me over the phone."
"What is going to happen to him?"
"As far as medically, I don’t know," said Major Hollingsworth. "Administratively, that’s another thing."
"What do you mean?"
"As I said the other day, Captain Fresquez was a highly valued member of a very sensitive operation, and we are concerned that certain foreign governments might want to know what that operation involved."
Without realizing it, the major had adopted an "official," less nurturing, tone. It was not lost on Bea, and she responded accordingly.
"Well, since my husband is already talking in code, they’ll have to have their cryptographers ready, won’t they?"
"Mrs. Fresquez, please understand that the Air Force truly regrets what has happened – although, of course, what did happen was totally out of their control . . ."
"Yeah, my husband was on Okinawa on vacation at his own expense. He’s doing all this as a joke. Those burns on his scrotum were his idea of a good time in old Okinawa or, if you believe these military shrinks, he’s just got a chemical imbalance in his brain, and as soon as they figure out just what that means, they’ll fix it and he’ll be OK."
"Bea, please let me finish. This is just as hard for me . . ."
"Are you married?"
"No, but . . ."
"Have you ever been married?"
"No."
"Then don’t ask me to believe that you have any idea of what I’m going through."
"Bea, we are concerned for your husband’s safety." Anticipating another retort, Major Hollingsworth held up her hand.
"Please let me continue. I am authorized by the Secretary of the Air Force to make the following proposition to you." She paused, and then went on. "It being understood that Captain Fresquez’ medical condition is not believed likely to improve in the foreseeable future . . ."
Bea began crying again. The major continued.
"Captain Fresquez will be released from active duty and allowed to retire with the appropriate benefits – and here is the important part – provided that he be known henceforth to the public as Tomás Franco, and that no public reference be made in the future to his previous name."
"What is this, the Federal Witness Protection Program?" said Bea.
"Not officially, of course," said the major, "but you can think of it that way, if you like."
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About the Book
A US Air Force officer on temporary duty in the Far East is captured when he accidentally stumbles on a terrorist plot targeting a US national laboratory. He is tortured and then released in a psychotic state.
He is admitted to a mental hospital in the rural southwest where the staff squabbles over how best to treat this strange patient. Who is he? Is he really mentally ill? What information does he possess? Is his life still at risk? What else is in danger?
There is also conflict within the group of terrorists who have placed someone at the hospital to monitor the situation. Should they now aim at a different target?
In the microcosm of Dos Cerros State Hospital there are good guys and bad guys, but the categories cut across professions and maybe nationalities, too.
This book, written by an author who has himself played many of the parts in this drama, is for anyone concerned about both American vulnerability to terrorist attack, and the current state of the US mental health industry.
About the Author
Louis Wynne was a combat intelligence officer in the US Air Force’s Strategic Air Command during the Cuban Missile Crisis.
He has a Ph.D. in experimental psychology from The Ohio State University, and has done research in primate behavioral pharmacology.
Dr. Wynne is the Four Corners Regional Director of the International Center for the Study of Psychiatry and Psychology. He was Associate Professor of Psychiatry and Adjunct Associate Professor of Psychology at the University of New Mexico School of Medicine, and Clinical Director of the New Mexico State Hospital.
He has a clinical practice in Albuquerque, New Mexico, where he lives with his wife, Sema, and a calico cat named Minnie.