Page 15 of Hunter

“As you know, Dr. Kelley was added to the Project Sandstorm team as an outgrowth of the monthly progress evaluation being made of our subject—our prison volunteer, John Doe.”

Project Sandstorm, she mused. It conjured up a stealth attack in the desert. Was that where he was going?

“When it was determined that our subject’s lack of social skills was affecting the timetable of the project,” Emerson continued, “various remedial solutions were suggested.”

As Kathryn listened to the convoluted speech, she noted that the men around the table were judging her reaction.

Why? Everyone here surely knew they were experimenting with a prison volunteer, so what was the point of emphasizing the man’s peculiar status? Unless the Chief of Operations was subtly reminding them of something else. She found herself conjuring an entirely different scenario. Suppose Emerson was lying about how they’d acquired the services of the man they called John Doe. Suppose their “volunteer” had met with an unfortunate accident that had wiped out his memory, and the Stratford Creek team was capitalizing on the circumstances. Suppose they were using a cover story about a prison volunteer until she was inculcated enough to be trusted with the truth.

She could well be jumping to unwarranted conclusions. Maybe she was way off base with her speculation. Yet intuition and training both told her that the colonel was twisting the truth again.

Emerson stopped talking, and she realized with a start that he was waiting for a response from her.

Straightening in her chair, she gave him an encouraging smile. “I could see you were having problems with him the moment I met him on the road.”

From his place down the table, McCourt nodded, and she knew she’d given the right answer as far as the security man was concerned.

“And I think I’ve already begun the process of speeding up his socialization,” she said, hoping she was still on the right track.

“How?” Winslow demanded.

“By making him feel more accepted. No disrespect intended, but the use of the name John Doe appears to be a deliberate attempt on the part of the staff to distance yourselves from him as an individual. However, he can hardly learn interpersonal relationships without experiencing them,” she said, leaning heavily on professional jargon.

“Bingo,” Dr. Kolb muttered and earned a dirty look from the research director.

She noted the not-so-friendly byplay between the two senior staffers as she continued. “In the locker room, I suggested that he give himself a more agreeable name. He chose Hunter. After that, it was easier to communicate with him.”

Mixed reactions erupted around the table—from guarded approval on the part of Dr. Kolb to undisguised hostility from Sam Winslow.

“Hunter? Where did that come from?” Dr. Swinton demanded.

She kept her reply conversational. “He says he’s a hunter.”

The Chief of Operations laughed appreciatively. “Yes. I guess it fits.”

Granger managed to echo the commander’s chuckle. McCourt didn’t bother to mask his disapproval.

Swinton had taken out one of his ballpoint pens and was twisting it in his fingers, staining them with an occasional slash of blue ink. “I’m not sure socialization should be one of our goals,” he said.

Kolb ignored him and asked, “First or last name?”

“First,” she answered, hoping she’d read Hunter’s intention correctly. “I think it would be beneficial if you can all start using it.”

They swung their heads in unison toward Emerson like spectators at a tennis match, and he gave a little nod.

“And I have some other ideas that may help solve your problems,” she added, only steps away from improvising. “Most people learn their early socialization during years of interacting in a family setting. Because Hunter doesn’t remember a home life, he is seriously handicapped in his ability to interact on a meaningful level.”

“He doesn’t have to interact on a meaningful level,” McCourt growled. “He only has to remember to zip his fly when he comes out of the men’s room. And close his mouth when he chews.”

Several of the group laughed again. But Swinton pushed back his chair as if to leave. Apparently thinking better of the gesture, he sat down again. “This is ridiculous,” he growled. “From the reports I’ve heard, it appears to me that Dr. Kelley’s interactions with the subject have only set his training back.”

“I’m sorry if—” Kathryn tried to jump in.

But he plowed on, drowning out the end of her sentence. “I want to see a copy of Dr. Kelley’s Omega clearance before she has any additional access to the subject.”

” You know that hasn’t arrived yet,” Emerson answered. “She just got here.”

“It’s procedure, and I demand that we follow procedure.”

---