Jim Marrs - PSI Spies - Amazon S3

PsiInt: Psychic Intelligence 23Morehouse looked to his right, into his commanding officer’soffice, to see if anything seemed out of the ordinary. Once hesaw that everything appeared routine, he veered left into hisown office. The small cubicle was depressing. It had no windowsand nothing hung on the walls—no photos, no pictures,no posters, nothing. A few weeks earlier, Morehousehad tried to bring the room to life by mounting his militaryawards, plaques, and trophies on the wall, but one of his superiorshad ordered the removal of this self-aggrandizing museum.Sadly, Morehouse had removed the items, all except forthe Kevlar helmet he had brought back from his tour in Jordanthe year before. The bullet hole from a 7.62-millimeterslug was still prominent on that helmet. The shot to hishead had been deflected by the helmet, but the shock ofthe bullet strike had opened doors into his mind he had neverknown existed. The incident had begun a series of strangeexperiences.Morehouse had no more than settled into the chairbehind his large wooden desk when he made his decision:He decided to see the psychologist and talk about hisexperiences.He walked down the hallway and entered Cole’s office.The psychologist was sitting behind his desk with his headburied in a stack of papers.Cole pushed the stack aside, looked up, and said, “Hi,Dave. What’s up? Are you still concerned about that last manwe checked?”“No, I have a little personal matter I want to talk with youabout,” replied Morehouse.