Free Psychic Warrior by David Morehouse

are. I just want them to stop.”

    â€œI want you to see Dr. Mellin about this.”
    â€œI can’t, honey! Don’t you understand? If I do that, it’s all over for us. Everything we’ve worked for will be gone. The army doesn’t promote people who see things in their heads.” I looked at her, and we both burst out laughing. “Well, I guess that’s debatable, isn’t it?”
    â€œYeah,” Debbie said. “I think we’ve known some folks who saw things pretty routinely.”
    â€œMaybe so. But I’m not willing to run that risk right now. I’m willing to bet that it’ll go away eventually.”
    â€œDavid! It’s been over two months now. Just when do you think it’s going away?”
    â€œI don’t know. Maybe if I change my ways like the angel said. Maybe—”
    â€œWhat angel? David, you’re making me very angry.” She pulled her hands away and folded her arms across her chest.
    I. smiled at her pose. “Aw, look, I didn’t tell you these things because I didn’t know how to tell you. Hell, I don’t know what they mean. I don’t have any idea how to tell you what I saw and heard or how it even happened. I’m not sure I believe any of it myself, so cut me some slack here, all right?”
    Reluctantly, Debbie nodded. “Well, all right … . But what did you see and hear?”
    I took another deep breath. “I saw a being. Actually I saw several, but only one spoke to me.”
    â€œWhat did he say?”
    â€œHe said that what I was doing was wrong, or something like that. He said that I should choose a different path, a path of peace. Now what the hell am I supposed to make of that?”
    â€œI don’t know,” Deb said softly. “Have you prayed about it?”
    I shook my head slowly in the darkness of the room. “No, I haven’t. I haven’t prayed about much since it happened. I’m afraid to. I have this strange notion that if I
open myself up, all hell will break loose. I have enough hell in my head now, thank you.”
    â€œI’m worried. You can’t go on like this; you have to get someone to help you sort this out.”
    â€œWill it make you feel any better if I promise to do that, when I feel the time is right?”
    â€œIt will. You’ve never broken a promise to me yet.” She smiled, and I felt her grip my hand more tightly. “I love you,” she said.
    â€œAnd I love you. Let’s get back to bed and try to get some sleep.”
    I was never the same after that trip to Jordan and the bullet. Something in me changed, turned me inward. I thought perhaps I was spending too much time analyzing myself and the world around me. I thought that I needed to get on with the business of soldiering. But something kept telling me I had to prepare. I couldn’t put my finger on it yet, but that bullet meant something. The mysterious figure meant something—and so did the message.

THREE
    THE SELECTION
    R egretfully, we left the Rangers in May of 1987. I was given orders to attend the Defense Language Institute in Monterey, California, to learn Italian. I would then serve again as a general’s aide-de-camp, this time to an Italian general at CENTAF headquarters in Verona, Italy. The day I changed command and gave up my company, my Ranger battalion commander, Colonel Keith Nightingale, put his arms around Debbie and me to tell us that he had just received a phone call from the Department of the Army. The general had opted for an aide who was already in Italy and already spoke the language. That was his prerogative, and I would simply have to find another job. I was a free agent for the first time in my career.
    Several colonel and general officer friends whom I’ve already mentioned helped me find a new home. Within a few days, I received a phone call from my assignment officer in Virginia, who had found a possible