The Colonel handed the letter to the General to read. A silence fell over the room. He took a few minutes to read then looked at Harold saying, "Now tell me Sergeant Huddleston, why is General Eisenhower so personally interested in John Vacara? Hell, looks like this cousin of yours is going to stir up a lot of problems if we don't find him in a hurry. I know General Eisenhower, he can't let go of an issue until it gets resolved. My best advice is to find your cousin, or we may all have hell to pay."
Harold knew from talking to Alpha Wolf early that morning that John must have used his powers during the invasion of Normandy and somehow everyone knew, including General Eisenhower. Beads of sweat were beginning to form on Harold's forehead with seconds turning to minutes. The outer office noise was penetrating into the room. Radio communications, shuffling of papers and feet walking on the old wooden floors making a creaking sound, seemed amplified to Harold's ears.
Harold cleared his throat looking at General Patton, "Well, Sir he has a gift only few have. His ability to move objects is remarkable and amazingly pronounced, Sir."
Both General Patton and Colonel Jackson looked at each other. They continued to stare at one another then General Patton nodded to Colonel Jackson to break the silence.
"Now Harold, I know you've been working long hours for the past two months so would you like to restate what you just said?" Colonel Jackson apologetically offered.
"Before you say any more Bob," General Patton interrupted putting up his hand up indicating for Colonel Jackson to stop speaking. "I just came from General Eisenhower's mobile command center reviewing documentation and films of the D-Day landing at Omaha Beach." General Patton got up from his chair and walked around to the window behind the Colonels desk looking out, "From what I read in the documents your cousin is personally responsible for saving hundreds of lives during the first wave of troops landing on the beach." Turning, General Patton looked Harold dead in the eyes walking over to the edge of the desk and placing both hands on top leaning toward him almost shouting. "But by God what I saw in those films was truly amazing, his astounding accuracy of the grenades he threw hundreds of feet into the concrete bunkers and the gravity defying rock climbing on the sea wall to open up the channel for our troops to gain access to the bluff above, was remarkable," General Patton remarked as he returned to a standing position looking at Colonel Jackson indicating he was not finished.
"Now Sergeant," General Patton interrogated, "Don't hold out one minor detail, why can he perform these inhuman feats?"
A silence had taken over the mood of the room. Not a word was said as General Patton sat down in Colonel Jackson's chair. The leather grunted, even grew, demanding the occupant be respectful. Leaning forward he opened the cigar box removing one from the top. An aroma filled Harold's nostrils as the lid dropped with a slight thump. The General struck a match underneath the desk as a bright flame came to life. He placed the burning match to the end of the cigar. Sucking, the cigar came to life, while he looked down the shaft as General Patton released a cloud of smoke from his lungs and shook the burning match, killing its life.
Harold was now convinced almost everyone knew of his powers so he decides telling the truth was the best possible route to take. Looking at the General, Harold responded, "John has abilities beyond human belief. He has been able to do these things since we were little boys. He started out moving little things like silverware, then as time went by, the objects, through practice and training, grew larger and heavier."
"You're telling us he can move objects with his mind?" General asked in disbelief.
"I did not see anything like that in the film; hold on one dog gone moment, we did notice he used a piece of steel as a shield after he landed on the beach. The film skipped a section."
"He could have used his powers to acquire the steel, or he didn't want to due to reserving his mental powers," Harold explained. "You see it takes extreme mental concentration to move heavy objects and John most likely didn't have time or the need to move objects, I wasn't there."
"What I saw in the films were the unbelievable height and accuracy he threw the grenades."
"How far did he throw them?" Harold asked.
"The best our engineers could determine was one hundred fifty feet vertically in the air," the General replied.
Harold sat quietly thinking. General Patton couldn't sit still. The leather chair's wheels squeaked with every inch he moved, a noise commonly heard when sitting in such chairs. The sun was now flowing through the Colonel's office window. All three men felt the tension in the room as Harold remarked, "That would be a simple task for him, a grenade weights less than two pounds."
"But with pin point accuracy Sergeant?" General Patton questioned. "How could a human be so accurate?"