Chapter One Thousand Four Hundred Fifteen
24th November 1960
Theodor Roosevelt Bridge, Washington D.C.
It was when his keys, followed by his wallet, fell out of his pants pockets and hit the water below that Ken Kesey realized that he might have really miscalculated this time. Doctor Richard Johnson had insisted that they needed to get their test subjects chosen at random from the pool of Civilian Assets that the CIA maintained, and the experiment needed to be conducted as close as possible to field conditions. Johnson also felt that informing them of their involvement in Project Janus would pollute the results. What that idiot, who had probably the most appropriate name of anyone Ken had ever met, had not factored in was that there were very real consequences of tricking people into taking powerful psychedelic drugs.
Beyond the impact to the various test subject’s mental well-being, there were also other serious problems that Ken had not factored in until he had been given a tongue lashing by one of the men his superiors answered to about how the wrong test subject had been chosen this time. That was compounded when he had been dragged off a city street and thrown into the trunk of a car and driven on one of the bumpiest rides through D.C. imaginable. Then when the drive had ended Ken had found himself hanging by his heels over the Potomac River. It happened to be that one of their latest test subjects had a psychotic boyfriend in US Army Special Forces. When he had found out what had happened to Gloria Steinem he was understandably pissed and had brought along a couple of his buddies to help make his opinion clear to Ken. He knew that if they let go, the fall probably wouldn’t kill him but the long swim through icy water most certainly would.
“I can explain!” Ken yelled.
“I doubt that” a voice that sounded only slightly warmer than the water below them said.
Ken knew that this was John Casey, someone who Ken felt that he should have been warned about beforehand. The Agency frequently used men from his unit to do the legwork, so they must have known what they were capable of.
“Stop it, all of you and pull him back up before you drop him” Ken heard a voice say, one that he wasn’t sure if he should be relieved or terrified to hear. With that he was yanked back over the railing. Three known killers and a woman who had good reason to want him dead were staring at him.
“The Germans are years ahead of us in the use of those drugs” Ken said aware that he was babbling, “We have to experiment to learn what we are dealing with. What the possibilities are.”
“I took the liberty of talking to Peter Holz” Gloria said, “He said that the amount of lysergic acid that you fed me was several times the amount that he recommends. He also said that a heavy dose of that stuff given to an unsuspecting person outside a carefully controlled environment is basically torture.”
Ken felt the blood run from his face. “You didn’t” He said, “Not him.”
Gloria Steinem was under no obligation to keep any of this secret, her agreement with the CIA was that she would pass on information that the Agency found relevant to them and receive access to information gathered by the Agency in turn. She very seldom dealt in matters that could be construed as classified and was seen as a means of disseminating information to the public that was advantageous to the Agency. Because of the recent advances in telecommunications she had talked to possibly the last person on Earth they wanted to learn of Project Janus, General Peter Holz of the German Medical Service. Not just because he was a foreign General but because he was part of Holz, Tangeman and Brandt, the team that conducted the first clinical trials of LSD and MDMA on patients suffering from the effects of traumatic stress. He would instantly understand the implications of the experimentation. This was a disaster.
“Consider it a part of your just deserts” Jonny said, “To go along with the visit that we’ve already paid to your friend Dick Johnson. How the Hell did that guy survive High School with a name like that?”
Ken heard the two men with John Casey snickering after he said that. Johnson, with his nervous, fussy manner would have found these men to be the stuff of nightmares. And because of what they were involved with, it wasn’t like they could just call the cops. The police would demand answers and if the CIA stopped the investigation then the DC cops would make Johnson and Ken’s lives a living Hell as payback. Looking at John Casey’s face right now Ken realized that it was something that the soldier had based his plans around. Scare him, make him think that they were going to kill him, then make him think that they had let him off lightly by merely damaging his career. Was that it?
It had turned out that wasn’t it, as Ken found out when John Casey decked him and knocked him off his feet. He never saw it coming and the sudden pain came as a complete shock. It took a moment for him to grab ahold of the railing. His mouth was bleeding, and he was expecting a flurry of blows to come raining down on him.
“If we have to have this conversation again, you’re going into the drink” Jonny said into Ken’s ear, “You got that? And learn to conduct an interrogation before you make an even bigger ass of yourself.”
Just a groan was all Ken could give him in reply. A minute later, Ken heard doors slamming shut and the car engine start. As he heard the engine fading in the distance, Ken realized that his keys, money and identification were all gone. As he started to stagger towards the D.C. side of the bridge it started to sink in just how thorough the payback that he had just been subjected to had been.