The Rasner Effect Read Online Free PDF Page A

East. His claims of terrorist ties were never fully founded. For that matter, he was probably never even near a bridge before his showdown with the authorities. With the right spin in the media, he became the perfect international scapegoat.
    “You can’t have the American people worrying about serious domestic threats,” General Straker explained to him after the press reported the story. Jake understood. How would the American public react if they knew the bombing had nothing to do with terrorism, but because an unscrupulous American businessman paid for the assassination of another unscrupulous American businessman? Understanding, however, didn’t make him feel any better about the situation.
    He was just Charlie Wright now, cleaning a fucking Frat house. Jake shook his head and went back to work. How the mighty had fallen.

Chapter Three
    From the doorway of the therapy suite, Rick Rasner watched the teachers, safety officers, and various staff aides lead the patients to their classrooms. They rushed some of the children to the rooms while others were escorted to the end of the hallway where a short Asian man with thick-framed eyeglasses stood behind a table giving out small cups with medication. Rick assumed he was the facility’s psychiatrist.
    Four patients appeared. They walked in a trance-like state, with little movement in their knees, their arms stiff against their sides. A chubby Latino boy around sixteen years of age shuffled beside an aide pushing a tall, wheeled pole. From its top hung a clear IV bag. A long vinyl tube attached the bag to a needle stuck in the boy’s arm. The kids walked just like the zombies he had seen in old late-night horror movies.
    Sharon Hefner appeared in the hallway and immediately shouted orders. She seemed to be in her glory as the center of all the action. “Let’s move it people! School is about to start!” She clapped her hands to accentuate her words.
    Behind her, a young child, approximately eleven years old, stood on his head, palms pressed to the floor, his head touching the wall. His ripped jeans had dropped toward his knees due to his inverted position. Hefner walked up to him and stared down with her fists pressed against her hips. “What do you think you’re playing at, Pedro?”
    “I don’t want to go to class,” he whined.
    “Do I have to get Officer James over here to escort you?” Hefner pointed down the hallway where James was motioning other children into their rooms. “Or do I just report you to Miss Miller? You know where she’ll want you to go if I do…”
    Pedro gazed up at Hefner with wide and nervous eyes. “I don’t like that room.”
    “Then get off your brain, boy, and go use it in class. Decide right now which room you want to spend the day in.”
    After a few moments, Pedro’s legs dropped forward and he rolled himself into an upright position. He moved into his classroom as Hefner pointed the way. “You see?” she said to no one, “they think I’m here to take their crap, but I’m not.”
    Rick continued to observe the procedures of each class receiving its full roster of students, averaging between six and eight each. The doors slammed shut behind the students.
    An older woman, about five-foot-six, walked up to Rick. She had bags under her eyes and wrinkles underneath an abnormally large amount of red blush across her cheeks. She wore a long, red skirt that matched her noticeably dyed hair. “Mr. Rasner?”
    “Uhm, yes.”
    “I’m Janet Murphy, social worker. Please, call me Janet.”
    Rick shook her right hand, which was as sweaty as it was dainty. Her left hand clutched a Bible against her stomach. Janet placed her right hand over the book as well. There was an awkward silence as Rick remained in the doorway.
    Janet finally broke the silence. “So, we’re officemates now, are we?”
    “Oh, I’m standing in your way.” Rick moved aside. “Sorry about that.”
    “Think nothing of it.” Janet laughed and entered the