Page 20 of PSYCHOlogical
“Briggs, please.”
I took two more.
“Mister Briggs!”
Door handle in hand, I paused. “What?”
“Sit down, please.”
“I’d rather—”
“Sit down!” She let out a sigh. “We’re off the record.”
“Pfft.” I chuckled. “Does that even mean anything?”
“To me, it does,” she replied. “I guess it gets down to whetheryou can be trusted to keep your mouth shut. I’m of the opinion you can be trusted. I guess time will tell.”
I wasn’t thrilled about her implications regarding my trustworthiness. I forced an exaggerated sigh. “I’m listening.”
“What information did Shephard share with you about his assignment in Philadelphia?”
I shrugged. “Nothing.”
“Not one thing?”
“Correct. Nothing.”
“He was assigned to eliminate the threat away from his home, because of the consistent presence of the target’s wife. Contrary to orders, Shephard chose to do it at the target’s residence. In doing so, he also eliminated the target’s wife, and the neighbor, another woman.”
In the fog of war, things happen. If anyone knew it, I did. Rarely did an assignment go exactly as planned.
“What’s your point?” I asked.
“Are you aware of his assignment in Henderson, Nevada in the spring?”
“I guess not.”
“The target had the VX nerve agent in his possession. Intelligence indicted he intended to use it in a Las Vegas casino, through the air conditioning system. The outcome would have been catastrophic. Shephard was to use the nerve agent on the target in a warehouse where the chemical was being kept. It would look like an accident, and keep the chemical confined to a remote location.” She lowered her head and let out a sigh. When she looked up, she was visibly shaken. “Instead, he used a knife. A folding knife he carried on his person. According to the filed report, Shephard’s weapon malfunctioned, and the knife was his last resort. He killed the target, his wife, and two children, both of which were in high school. Each victim had antemortem ligature marks on their wrists and ankles. The autopsy revealed they didn’t die from damage to their internal organs.”
She looked like she was going to vomit. She swallowed heavily and looked away before meeting my gaze of disbelief.
“They bled to death,” she said. “Seated in a circle on the master bedroom floor, they died a slow, mentally excruciating death while watching their loved ones do the same. Shephard is a sociopath. He is also a sadist. He derives pleasure out of seeing people suffer. I’m sorry, but many of his recent actions while on assignment put this program, and the men and women in it, in danger.”
Shocked beyond belief at what she revealed, I stared blankly out the window. In hindsight, I knew Shephard was slipping into a dark place, but attributed it to combat-related stress. Had I known the true extent of his problems, I would have looked at matters differently.
“I have several more stories if you’d like to hear them,” she said. “His sociopathic tendencies have worsened in the last twelve months.”
The damage was done. Shephard dug his own grave. I shook my head. “I’ve heard enough.”
“I’m sorry,” she said.
“So am I.” Shephard knew how to kill with a knife. He’d been trained to do so. Allowing anyone to bleed to death was not only cruel, it put the program and the men in it at risk of exposure. The thought of him watching a family bleed out sent a chill the length of my spine. I shifted my gaze to meet hers. “I had no idea.”
“I’m not surprised that he kept those things to himself,” she said. “As disturbed as he is, he’s aware of what society deems as right and wrong. He didn’t want you to shut him out. He was protecting you.”
I exhaled a deep breath of regret. “What causes someone to do such…”
“There are brain-based causes for sociopathy, but we’re not sure where they’re derived from. He’s also a psychopath. And, he’s a sadist. It’s not his fault. Emotion is something he knows nothing about. Remorse, empathy, and shame are things he doesn’t feel. It makes the acts he commits different, in his eyes. For him to kill is no different than opening a door or eating a sandwich.”
