Blown for Good - Marc Morgan Headley [157]
Brilliant. Just my luck. I rush over here and now I am stuck. The problem is in Denver. They are snowed in and my flight has to go through there. The next flight is the following morning. I would be staying in LA another night. Another night I could be apprehended by the Int Base “blow drill” currently taking place.
I get a voucher for a hotel and head over to the Airport Hilton. Even with the voucher, I have to pay tax and some other fees. It ends up being “only about $50,” as the guy at the counter puts it. That is about 1/5th my net worth at that point.
I head up to the room and realize that I am starving. I have not eaten all day. That, combined with the intense stress of the day’s activities, I really need to get a bite to eat.
I sit down for a meal in the hotel restaurant. The food is so good that it is actually a pleasure to eat. It is delicious and fulfills my hunger. Too bad that fifteen years at Gold has indoctrinated me to eat a meal in under five minutes flat. For most of my years at Gold, we had 15-minute meal breaks. That included travel time to the dining hall. You had to get to the dining hall, get your food, sit down, eat it, clear your plate and get outside for a cigarette, all in under 15 minutes. Taking more than five minutes to eat was sure to use up your remaining time to do any of those other things, so gulping your meals was more a necessity than an acquired skill.
So here I am at a decent restaurant in a hotel, and my entire plate of food is gone before the waitress can come back and ask how everything was. She gives me a shocked look when she comes over and takes away the empty plate. I have eaten an entire beef dip sandwich, fries and a bowl of soup in no more than three minutes. I have also polished off the full glass of coke and am chomping on the last few cubes of the ice as she approaches my table.
“Was everything to your liking?” She asks awkwardly.
“Oh yes, thank you. Can I get the check?” I say, hoping that is the right thing to say.
I can only imagine what she thinks as she walks away. National speed eating champion? Starvation survivor? Pretty close, just your average Scientology Int Base Staff Member recently escaped!
I go up to the room, take a shower and get ready for bed. I take about twice as long in the shower as I was used to and let the water run the entire time. Wow, a ten-minute shower, I am really living it up now. I turn the TV on and lie on the bed. As I lay there I cannot help but think about my wife and family. I cannot help it. I cry myself to sleep that night. I think I have finally gotten it out of my system, though. When I get on the plane in the morning I realize that I have not lost these loved ones, they have been stolen from me.
Chapter Thirty-Four – New Life
I arrive in Kansas City in the afternoon. I had a layover in Denver and decide that I will call the Base from a pay phone there and tell them not to look for me. My rationale is that they will trace the number to Denver and look for me there. Since I won’t be there, that will burn some time and keep them off my trail for a while.
I go to a public payphone in the airport and dial the 1-800 I WANT HELP line. I know that rings directly to the Main Security Booth, so I will get a guard that will know about me leaving. Matt Butler answers the phone.
“Hey Matt, this is Marc. I am no longer in California and don’t bother coming after me, I am never ever coming back and nothing you say or do can change that.” I hang up before he even utters a single word back. Good. They will trace the call via phone records and figure out that I am in Denver. I have family in Denver so it would likely lead them to believe that is my final destination. This will work out even better. I doubt any of my cousins in Denver would be very helpful in tracking me down nor would they even think about talking to some goons from the Int Base.
After watching over my shoulder full time and expecting any minute for someone to pop out behind a pillar and grab me, I finally get