Muse hit last night. Just a short story for now. Dinah isn’t a pleasant story. It may turn into a full story at some point for now it is only a couple of chapters long. Not sure someone should read it before going to bed. It is disturbing but plays too much into what is going on in this country now.
############
PROLOGUE
“You can kiss their ass, I’m not going to!!”
I sighed. This was just the last in a long line of arguments that Greg and I had had over the last two years.
“All you want is to have babies while I put my ass on the line every day!”
“Greg, I thought we agreed not to make this stuff personal again. I know you are angry but please don’t accuse me of things that aren’t true..”
“They’re making it personal so why shouldn’t I?!!”
I knew he was too angry to think straight. I knew he was going to say things that he would regret. Or at least he used to regret them. However, I also knew that if I didn’t find a way to calm him down it would devolve into him doing things we would both wind up regretting.
“They closed another bank account! What right do they have to do that?! I did nothing wrong!! How am I supposed to do business?!! Crock of shit is what this is!!”
My husband didn’t normally swear. Or at least he didn’t around me. It was just another symptom of the rage he was feeling. I was angry too but I had reason to try and not let it control me. I told him, “You’re right. We’ve done nothing wrong. We are just operating a business. A legal business. But we both also know that they have left themselves enough loopholes that that doesn’t matter.”
“They won’t even put it in writing why they’ve closed the account. Just like the other ones they’ve closed. Thank God I never put cash through our primary account. We really would be up shit creek and unable to pay the bills. Dammit, Charlie is right. It’s time to stop being ‘flexible’ and start fighting back.”
“Greg …”
“**** it. I’m going out.”
“Greg … !”
# # # # #
“Mrs. Neumann …”
“I’ve answered all of your questions regardless of the number of times you’ve asked them. Regardless of the number of times you’ve dragged me out of wherever you’ve had me … including this jail cell known as a ‘mental health facility’ for the last year.”
“There were financial irregularities that you had to have known about.”
“And as I’ve stated before, when most of the things you are currently calling irregularities happened, they were still legal and not irregular. Anything that happened after Greg was shot and murdered …”
“Ma’am, we’ve instructed you before to not …”
“I’m calling it what it was and is. I’m not even adding the murder of my baby.” I took a calming breath because they would use anything and everything they could at this point. “A supposedly off-duty federal agent shot my husband when he was already down with a head wound where the bank security guard had pistol whipped him as he was trying to exit the bank and get away from the crazies making a run on the bank.”
“Ma’am ..”
“You keep trying to change the timeline, but you are wrong; at this point in the investigation probably wrong on purpose hoping to create a situation that exonerates your people. I will explain it again, Greg had an appointment with the bank manager to get the last of our funds out of accounts that the bank had closed at the orders of the federal banking regulators. He wasn’t the only one there doing that, but they didn’t know each other … the ones that had had their accounts closed. For whatever reason the branch manager had scheduled all of those people to come in on the same day on the bank’s Saturday hours. Some of the other banking customers there at the time heard the branch manager say there was insufficient cash on hand to issue anything other than cashier checks for the amount in the closed account.”
“That is not a fact that has been proven.”
“Yes it is. Even the mainstream media got that much correct. Lord knows what has happened to that woman that was a whistleblower and turned over all those documents to Congress.”
“That person is being extradited back to face charges.”
I shook my head. “No she isn’t because she’s in Russia and they aren’t folding to your pressure. They don’t want that double agent back in as exchange no matter how it is being spun by the White House’s press bullies.”
The agent who was playing “good cop” sighed and turned to another agent in the back of the room. “Mrs. Neumann appears to be suffering another psychotic break. Her medication needs to be increased.”
I’d expected it. That’s the way they handle anything they don’t want to hear. I told them, “Go ahead. Play your mind games agent. With what you probably know at this point, it will be your turn on this side of the table sooner rather than later.”
He didn’t hide a fear in his eyes quickly enough for me to not see it. Worse, the other agents in the room sensed their superior’s concern and internalized it. But oh well, I didn’t fight them when the straight jacket patrol came to haul me back to bizarroland. I know there were more like me in this place, some that had already really been driven crazy. It has been two years since the bank runs and they were still investigating and arresting people, but like me, most of them had not even been at any of the locations that day. We were the sacrifices the government agency was willing to use to prosecute the ones that were there … most of them family or close friends of the original group that had been arrested.
Back in my cell the male nurse in control of the medication cart used a metal tongue depressor to open my mouth like a shoehorn, and tossed a pill of some type down my throat. I never knew what kind of med they were using. It was their way of controlling things … control the distribution of information and you control the world. However, lucky for me I have a strong gag reflex and it didn’t go down. The male nurse forced my mouth closed. I barely had a second to use my tongue to corral the pill and shove it under a crown I had on a back molar that had come loose early on when I was “accidentally” put in a room with male psychiatric patients. I was lucky getting slapped around was all that occurred, they’d definitely tried worse and it took a month before the last of the bruises on my personal and private parts had started to heal properly, especially that it had only been six months… six months since something those bastards did murdered my baby and I gave birth to a stillborn little girl. They wouldn’t be using that tactic again on me or any other of the women they had in custody because someone that had been visiting a family member got vids of it with their phone and for a while it kept popping up in mainstream media (and non mainstream media sources). Heck, even Congress played it during one of their own interrogations of some in the DOJ.
The “nurse,” if that really what he is, wrenched my mouth back open with the “shoehorn” and seeing that the pill appeared to have been swallowed, he pushed me backwards after causing me to gag with that tool from hell. Since I was in a straitjacket, I couldn’t catch myself and fell hard, knocking the wind out of me. Mr. Nurse no longer even bothered smirking, I wasn’t considered human enough (or possibly valuable enough) for him to get off on his brand of sadism.
I finally managed to maneuver myself into a sitting position and took up my favorite pose, leaning over into one of the room’s corners facing away from any of their stupid little cameras and observation windows. Next I knew was coming them playing with the thermostat. Why they still bother is beyond me. I haven’t changed my story since they took me into custody, two weeks after they’d killed Greg. I hadn’t even been one of the ones making all the noise in the mainstream news.
It took longer than normal to get the pill positioned so I could spit it out and hide it behind the wall padding. I was getting a little woozy. As I drifted, neither conscious or unconscious, my own personal nightmare played out behind my eyelids.
############
PROLOGUE
“You can kiss their ass, I’m not going to!!”
I sighed. This was just the last in a long line of arguments that Greg and I had had over the last two years.
“All you want is to have babies while I put my ass on the line every day!”
“Greg, I thought we agreed not to make this stuff personal again. I know you are angry but please don’t accuse me of things that aren’t true..”
“They’re making it personal so why shouldn’t I?!!”
I knew he was too angry to think straight. I knew he was going to say things that he would regret. Or at least he used to regret them. However, I also knew that if I didn’t find a way to calm him down it would devolve into him doing things we would both wind up regretting.
“They closed another bank account! What right do they have to do that?! I did nothing wrong!! How am I supposed to do business?!! Crock of shit is what this is!!”
My husband didn’t normally swear. Or at least he didn’t around me. It was just another symptom of the rage he was feeling. I was angry too but I had reason to try and not let it control me. I told him, “You’re right. We’ve done nothing wrong. We are just operating a business. A legal business. But we both also know that they have left themselves enough loopholes that that doesn’t matter.”
“They won’t even put it in writing why they’ve closed the account. Just like the other ones they’ve closed. Thank God I never put cash through our primary account. We really would be up shit creek and unable to pay the bills. Dammit, Charlie is right. It’s time to stop being ‘flexible’ and start fighting back.”
“Greg …”
“**** it. I’m going out.”
“Greg … !”
# # # # #
“Mrs. Neumann …”
“I’ve answered all of your questions regardless of the number of times you’ve asked them. Regardless of the number of times you’ve dragged me out of wherever you’ve had me … including this jail cell known as a ‘mental health facility’ for the last year.”
“There were financial irregularities that you had to have known about.”
“And as I’ve stated before, when most of the things you are currently calling irregularities happened, they were still legal and not irregular. Anything that happened after Greg was shot and murdered …”
“Ma’am, we’ve instructed you before to not …”
“I’m calling it what it was and is. I’m not even adding the murder of my baby.” I took a calming breath because they would use anything and everything they could at this point. “A supposedly off-duty federal agent shot my husband when he was already down with a head wound where the bank security guard had pistol whipped him as he was trying to exit the bank and get away from the crazies making a run on the bank.”
“Ma’am ..”
“You keep trying to change the timeline, but you are wrong; at this point in the investigation probably wrong on purpose hoping to create a situation that exonerates your people. I will explain it again, Greg had an appointment with the bank manager to get the last of our funds out of accounts that the bank had closed at the orders of the federal banking regulators. He wasn’t the only one there doing that, but they didn’t know each other … the ones that had had their accounts closed. For whatever reason the branch manager had scheduled all of those people to come in on the same day on the bank’s Saturday hours. Some of the other banking customers there at the time heard the branch manager say there was insufficient cash on hand to issue anything other than cashier checks for the amount in the closed account.”
“That is not a fact that has been proven.”
“Yes it is. Even the mainstream media got that much correct. Lord knows what has happened to that woman that was a whistleblower and turned over all those documents to Congress.”
“That person is being extradited back to face charges.”
I shook my head. “No she isn’t because she’s in Russia and they aren’t folding to your pressure. They don’t want that double agent back in as exchange no matter how it is being spun by the White House’s press bullies.”
The agent who was playing “good cop” sighed and turned to another agent in the back of the room. “Mrs. Neumann appears to be suffering another psychotic break. Her medication needs to be increased.”
I’d expected it. That’s the way they handle anything they don’t want to hear. I told them, “Go ahead. Play your mind games agent. With what you probably know at this point, it will be your turn on this side of the table sooner rather than later.”
He didn’t hide a fear in his eyes quickly enough for me to not see it. Worse, the other agents in the room sensed their superior’s concern and internalized it. But oh well, I didn’t fight them when the straight jacket patrol came to haul me back to bizarroland. I know there were more like me in this place, some that had already really been driven crazy. It has been two years since the bank runs and they were still investigating and arresting people, but like me, most of them had not even been at any of the locations that day. We were the sacrifices the government agency was willing to use to prosecute the ones that were there … most of them family or close friends of the original group that had been arrested.
Back in my cell the male nurse in control of the medication cart used a metal tongue depressor to open my mouth like a shoehorn, and tossed a pill of some type down my throat. I never knew what kind of med they were using. It was their way of controlling things … control the distribution of information and you control the world. However, lucky for me I have a strong gag reflex and it didn’t go down. The male nurse forced my mouth closed. I barely had a second to use my tongue to corral the pill and shove it under a crown I had on a back molar that had come loose early on when I was “accidentally” put in a room with male psychiatric patients. I was lucky getting slapped around was all that occurred, they’d definitely tried worse and it took a month before the last of the bruises on my personal and private parts had started to heal properly, especially that it had only been six months… six months since something those bastards did murdered my baby and I gave birth to a stillborn little girl. They wouldn’t be using that tactic again on me or any other of the women they had in custody because someone that had been visiting a family member got vids of it with their phone and for a while it kept popping up in mainstream media (and non mainstream media sources). Heck, even Congress played it during one of their own interrogations of some in the DOJ.
The “nurse,” if that really what he is, wrenched my mouth back open with the “shoehorn” and seeing that the pill appeared to have been swallowed, he pushed me backwards after causing me to gag with that tool from hell. Since I was in a straitjacket, I couldn’t catch myself and fell hard, knocking the wind out of me. Mr. Nurse no longer even bothered smirking, I wasn’t considered human enough (or possibly valuable enough) for him to get off on his brand of sadism.
I finally managed to maneuver myself into a sitting position and took up my favorite pose, leaning over into one of the room’s corners facing away from any of their stupid little cameras and observation windows. Next I knew was coming them playing with the thermostat. Why they still bother is beyond me. I haven’t changed my story since they took me into custody, two weeks after they’d killed Greg. I hadn’t even been one of the ones making all the noise in the mainstream news.
It took longer than normal to get the pill positioned so I could spit it out and hide it behind the wall padding. I was getting a little woozy. As I drifted, neither conscious or unconscious, my own personal nightmare played out behind my eyelids.