Eye in the Sky

Sawyer ate all the fruit and most of the pastry while Mike watched in amazement.

They heard the front door open, and the voices of Rawlins and Lawson drifted up the stairs. They climbed up and Sawyer flew to them and hugged them.

"Hi gorgeous," Lawson said. "Mike been taking care of you?"

"Oh, yes, he has," she exclaimed. "He let me sit in the cockpit with him and he got me all kinds of fruit to eat and chocolate milk and he opened my carton of juice for me. That's delicious juice, Mike."

Rawlins raised an eyebrow at the burly security man. Mike grinned ruefully. "She has a way of growing on a man," he said. "I'm glad you're here. She was running me ragged. I'm too old to babysit."

"Well, you better get used to it," Rawlins told him. "Lawson will stay with her this morning and you need to make arrangements for someone else to do your job for a while. You're moving in here. I want someone with her around the clock and I can't trust it to anyone but you. Lawson and I need to behave like we normally would until the heat dies down. He is going to have to go to school just like normal and I'm going to keep my usual schedule. That means I'm counting on you to take care of Sawyer. Pack your stuff, make your arrangements and get back here."

Mike groaned, but he picked up his keys and his coffee and left. "See you later."

"I've got to get going too," Rawlins said. "You okay, honey?"

"Yes I am. Thanks for everything, Mr. Sloan. Can you come here tonight? I have something to tell you and Lawson. I've decided I need to trust you and I'll tell you everything."

"Call me Rawlins, please. Yes, we'll come back just as soon as Lawson gets home from football practice. Now I've got to go, honey. The Secretary of Defense wants to talk to me. See you later, son." The two men embraced and Rawlins left for his appointment.

Lawson sat down in a chair and Sawyer stood in front of him, fluffing her hair dry with the towel. He looked up at her. She looked unbelievably sexy dressed only in a towel and her head flung back while she fluffed out her hair.

"Sawyer, do you remember last night when I kissed you?"

"Yes I do. It was the first time a boy ever kissed me. I liked it a lot, Lawson." She blushed as she spoke.

"Good, because I'm going to do it again." He stood and took her in his arms. Her fingers dropped the towel to the floor, forgotten as she lifted her head and offered him her lips. The softness was incredible and she smelled like a freshly washed girl. He sat down in the chair and pulled her onto his lap, his lips never leaving hers.

She was gasping for breath as the kiss ended. The towel wrapped around her slim form slipped and one pert breast flashed into his view as she squealed and snatched it back together.

"Wow," Lawson breathed. "You did that on purpose, didn't you?"

"No I didn't," her face was a flaming red. "It was an accident. Let me up, Lawson. I need to go and put some clothes on."

"No way," he said. "I want another peek."

She laughed. "Well you aren't going to get one. Now, let me go."

Lawson raised his arms and she stood up, clutching the towel around her. She went to her room and pulled on jeans and a loose sweatshirt. She went back to the living room and Lawson had gotten a piece of the pastry and a bottle of water.

"There's stuff in that fridge over there and all kinds of food down in the storage room past the stairs if you get hungry," he told her. "Hey, you make even that old sweatshirt look sexy."

She blushed again. "You embarrass easily, Sawyer," he said. "You really do look good." She could sense that he really thought so.

"Haven't you ever been on a date?" he asked. "How can you be eighteen and never have kissed a boy?"

A shadow passed over her face. "I'll tell you about it tonight, Lawson. Just wait till then, okay?"

"Okay," he said. "Is there anything you need? We can have Mike pick it up if there is. I'd like to take you shopping for some better clothes. Those are okay, but they kind of just cover you up. If we were doing outside stuff in the cold they would be fine, but I'd love to see you in a little black dress or a swim suit, or some strategically torn fashion jeans."

"I'd like that, too," she said, "but I love these clothes. They're the nicest ones I've ever had."

"Well, we'll fix that, kitten," he told her. "Let me give Mike a call." That proved a fruitless endeavor.

"I don't know anything about girl's clothes," Mike protested. "I have no idea what size she wears. She looks like a little kid, even if she is eighteen. I'm not going to lurk around in the little girl's department looking at bathing suits. I'd get arrested for being a pervert. I'm sorry, Lawson, but I won't do it."

"Well, he won't do it," he told her, "but hey, don't worry. I'll figure something out. You want to watch TV or play a video game or something? This place has a PS4, or we could watch something on Netflix or surf the Internet."

"I've never done any of those things. What do you want to do?"

"Well, I saw a really funny meme yesterday. Let's get Meme Base up."

They watched funny videos until noon and Mike came back. "Help me lug some stuff up, Lawson. My old knees can't stand all these stairs."

"Sure, Mike." They carried several loads of Mike's stuff into the other bedroom and it was time for Lawson to go back to school.

"If I'm not there half a day I can't practice," he said. "That might look suspicious. See you later, beautiful, bye, Mike."

"That boy wears me out," Mike told Sawyer. "He's almost as bad as you. I've got meatloaf sandwiches and baked potatoes with cheese and chili. You interested?"

"Yes, I'm starving," she said. "I've never had a meatloaf sandwich before."

Mike shook his head sadly. "Well I made the meatloaf and it's pretty good if I do say so myself. Old Mike knows his way around a kitchen. I don't cook fancy but I cook good. You any good at cooking, Sawyer?"

"I don't know, Mike. I've never been allowed to cook. I'd like to try, but could we eat the sandwiches first?"

The sandwiches were as good as Mike had promised and the baked potatoes were devoured as well. Tall glasses of milk disappeared and Sawyer settled back on the couch where they were eating with a sigh.

"That was delicious, Mike. Thank you," she told him. She scooted closer to him and laid her head back on his arm.

"My pleasure. Come here Sawyer, you've got cheese on your chin." He wiped it off with a napkin.

"What kind of movies do you like?" he asked her.

"Well, I've mostly seen animated ones," she told him.

"Ever seen Casablanca?"

"No, but if you like it let's watch that," she said.

"I've seen it 36 times," he told her. "I never get tired of watching it." He went to his room and came back with a stack of DVDs. He popped in Casablanca, they settled back and he put his feet up on the table. Sawyer scooted up against Mike and put her feet on top of his legs. She leaned her head against his shoulder and draped one arm across him as the movie began.

"Comfortable?" he grinned down at her.

"Very," she agreed.

"Well I ain't a pillow, but I guess you can use me like one."

She watched, entranced as Humphrey Bogart and Ingrid Bergman lit up the screen. She burst into tears as Rick brushed the tears away and said, "Here's looking at you kid." She continued to sob as the plane flew away and when Rick finally disappeared into the mist with the words "I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship," she threw herself on Mike's chest.

"Oh, thank you, Mike. That was the most wonderful movie I've ever seen."

Mikes eyes were wet as well and he patted her sobbing form gently. "I know, kid. They don't make movies like that anymore. It's all blood and gore and cursing and toilet humor. This is a real movie."

"Yes, it is, but it's so sad. Look what you've done to me, Mike. I'm a mess. I need to go and wash my face and put some Visine in my eyes. Lawson will think I'm hideous if he sees me like this."

Mike took her chin in one big hand and turned her face toward him. "I think you look like an angel, kid."

She smiled and went to wash her face. He was gone when she came back so she curled up on the sofa and took a nap. When she woke up he was back. A delicious odor filled the air and her stomach growled.

"Hey, Sawyer, you awake?"

"Yes, Mike. What's that delicious smell?"

"Louie's Chicken Shack," he said. "Best chicken in Flagstaff. I got beans and dark beer, too. I know you aren't old enough to drink beer, but I won't tell if you don't."

"I've never had beer," she said. "Is it good?"

"I think so," he said. "Some people never acquire a taste for it. You might not like it at first, but it grows on you. It's best ice cold, so we'll put it in the freezer for a minute while we get our food."

Sawyer found plates and silverware and they loaded them with chicken strips, beans, and French fries. They carried their food to the sofa and Mike turned on the football game. He got two mugs out of the freezer as well, poured them full of St. Pauli Girl and set them on coasters.

Sawyer thought the chicken and the beans were the best she had ever had. She grew thirsty and took a drink of her beer. She choked a little. "Mike, how can you stand this? It tastes horrible!"

He laughed. "Keep trying, Sawyer. Like I said, it grows on you. Here, you've got a foam mustache." She jumped up and ran to look in the mirror. She laughed and then allowed him to wipe the mustache away. They watched football and Mike spent most of the time explaining the rules to her.

"I want to learn all about it because I know Lawson likes it," she told him.

"All real men like it," he told her. "You meet a man that doesn't like football and there's something wrong with him. You stay away from guys that don't like football, kid."

"Is Lawson really good at it?" she asked.

"He's one of the best two or three tight ends in the country in high school this year," he told her. "He's no slouch at defensive end, either. He could play either one at any college in the country."

"Which one is the tight end again?" she asked.

"Number 45 there in white,"

"Which one is the defensive end?"

"That's number 74 in black. Ooh, he's the one that just squished the quarterback. I'd hate to have Lawson hit me like that. That boy is a rock. Did you know I played three years in the NFL?"

"No Mike, what's the NFL?"

He laughed. "That's what we're watching, The National Football league. Lawson might end up there if he wants to."

They watched happily until Rawlins and Lawson arrived at seven. Sawyer ran and hugged them and then arranged them on the couch beside Mike.

"Mike, turn off the football game," she told him. "I have something important to say and I want you to pay attention."

Mike thumbed the remote, "We're all ears, kid," he said.

Sawyer stood for a moment and tears filled her eyes, spilled over her long lashes and trickled down her cheeks.

"Why are you crying, honey?" Rawlins asked. "It's okay, you can tell us anything."

Sawyer reached out and discovered to her amazement that it was true. "I'm crying because I'm afraid that when I tell you, you won't like me anymore. I really, really like all of you and I'm so afraid you won't like me when you find out about me."

"Be brave, honey." Rawlins told her. "Just tell us and trust us. We know what kind of person you are. This won't change the way any of us feel about you."

"Okay," she brushed away her tears. "Here goes. I never knew my parents. The earliest things I remember were being in a room with about 20 other kids. We must have all been about three or four. We slept in a dormitory and every day someone in a blue uniform came and got us and took us to breakfast. Then we went to school. They taught us everything like math and English and science. We went to the gym three times a day and played. At night, we went to the dormitory and read books or played board games or something.

Every week on Friday, we went off with a doctor for a special class. My doctor was a man called Dr. Watts. He would make me take off my clothes and he would attach wires to me with sticky patches and I would sit in a chair. He would ask me questions and make me take tests. He would ask me things like could I tell what he was thinking, or how he was feeling. When I was really little I could only tell what he was feeling, but after I got older I started to be able to tell what he was thinking too."

"What do you mean you could tell what he was thinking, honey?" Rawlins asked."

"When I want to I can, I don't know, feel in my head what people are thinking."

"Can you feel what I'm thinking now, Sawyer?" Lawson asked her.

"No," she said. "I'm not trying. I only look at what people are thinking or feeling if I need to see if they are a threat or to know how to act so people will think I'm normal. I'd like to think you are my friends and I'd never look at what my friends are thinking or feeling unless they ask me to."

"That's very ethical, Sawyer," Rawlins said. "Do you mean that it's not always, what shall we say, on?"

"No, I can either look, or not look," she said.

"Look at me and tell me what I'm thinking," Lawson said.

She glanced at him and blushed fiercely. "Lawson, I told you that was an accident!"

"I know. I just had to know you can do it."

"What about me," Mike asked. "Can you read me?"

She thought for a moment. "You're wondering if I can feel what people are thinking, can I make them think things. The answer is yes, sometimes I can. Not always, but it's been growing as I get older. It started when I started changing."

The three men sat in shock for a moment. "What the hell?" Mike finally said. "This is science fiction stuff. I don't know what to say. That's exactly what I was thinking. She can do it Rawlins; she can read minds like some kind of magic."

"What do you mean, 'you started changing'?" Lawson asked.

"Well, when my hips started getting fatter and my boobs started growing," She blushed again.

"It was probably latent and the chemical changes of puberty triggered it," Rawlins thought out loud.

"Maybe, I never do it unless I'm in danger. It's like forcing someone to do something physically, only much worse. I hate it but I've done it eight times to save my life and get away."

The men looked at each other and nodded. "We believe you, honey. Go on."

"Well, this went on until I was thirteen," she said. "I was never allowed to go outside until I was thirteen. Dr. Watts began to want me to look at people when I was eight and see what they were thinking. They brought in horrible people, murderers and rapists and things and made me look at them. They had awful minds and I hated it, but they told me I was helping to catch bad people and find victims so I did it. I told Dr. Watts I wouldn't do it unless he let me go outside every day. He was furious and they starved me for a while, but I still wouldn't do it. Finally, they let me go outside for two hours every day. I began to notice that there were fewer and fewer other children in the dormitory. Finally, there was only me and one other boy.

Then they started bringing in people that weren't bad. They were enemies of the government, but they just wanted to be free or practice their religion or they hated the government or told their secrets. After the first couple of people, I refused to do it anymore. That's when they started hurting me."

"My God boss," Mike sat up. "This is a horror story! What did they do to you, sweetheart?"

"They started by taking my clothes. They gave me drugs and kept me in a cell, naked and then they turned off the heat. They kept it warm enough that I didn't freeze to death, but I was miserable all the time. They came in periodically and threw cold water on me so that I was always cold. I got pneumonia and almost died. They took me to a hospital room and let me get better and they turned the heat back up but then they put me in a cell with a very bright light. They never turned it off. They played deafening sounds and one song over loudspeakers outside my cell so that I couldn't sleep. It was Achey Breaky Heart. I don't know how long that went on because I think I went insane and had a breakdown of some sort. I lost whole weeks I don't even remember.

When I got better, they started beating me. They used rubber clubs. It was never enough to break my bones or cut me but I was bruised and battered so badly that I couldn't sit or lie down because it hurt so bad. Then they beat the bottoms of my feet. I got pneumonia again after they accidently broke my ribs and the beatings stopped. Every day Dr. Watts would come in the morning and talk to me He would tell me how much he loved me and how easy it would be to make it all stop. I could tell he was lying. All I had to do was cooperate. All I had to do was tell him how I could read people.

Sawyer began to sob uncontrollably. Her words became nearly unintelligible. Lawson couldn't bear it another instant. He leaped up and caught her up in his arms. He took her back to the sofa and held her as Rawlins and Mike patted her and tried to comfort her. Finally she regained some control.

She didn't stand back up but remained on Lawson's lap and Rawlins and Mike continued to stroke her hair and shoulders.

"I finally agreed to cooperate and interrogate the prisoners held in the facility. I was well treated for a while. Every day I hated myself more. It was like being a serial rapist, violating innocent people's minds for information that was used against them. Finally I tried to kill myself. I saved up the drugs they gave me and took them all at once. Dr. Watts became more and more aggressive about asking me how I was able to read people. Finally he became so enraged that he told my guards that I was no longer cooperating and that I would have to be punished. Three times a day they took me to a room and fastened me to a chair with my head strapped back. They put a hood over my face. They ran water over the hood and it felt like I was drowning. It was the most horrible thing they did to me. They would keep this up until I passed out. They would take off the hood and allow me to recover and then repeat the process.

If I could have, I would have told them after the first day, but I couldn't. I couldn't tell them because I don't know how I do it. Dr. Watts refused to believe me. I could see that they would eventually make a mistake and kill me. It would be an accident, but I would be dead."

"Jesus H. Christ. What kind of people are these monsters? How could anyone do that to a thirteen-year-old girl?" Mike stood up and paced back and forth for a few minutes, his hands clenching into fists and then relaxing.

"You'd be amazed at what people can rationalize," Rawlins said. "I've heard all the arguments. What if we could save hundreds or thousands of lives by torturing one person? Once you get over that hurdle, how far is it to being willing to torture people for abstract reasons, or just because you can or they have secrets you want to know? Others just follow orders. You order them to water board someone and they do it because they haven't got the character or backbone to spit in your face. Some people get their jollies by having power over other people, forcing them to do things. They're sick bastards that need to be put down like the mad dogs they are. I'm sorry, Sawyer. I'm just so angry and horrified I interrupted you. Please continue."

"That's okay Rawlins. I became desperate because I knew they were never going to stop until they killed me or I found a way to kill myself. That was when I discovered that I could make people think things. The next time they took me to the water room, I was feeling very strong in my mind. I made one of the men think the other was killing me. He attacked that man and killed him. I made him think I was his daughter and he was taking me home.